I have not been around.
That statement is more true than you can possibly imagine. I have been home for almost two weeks after spending nine and a half weeks in hospital. Three of them in intensive care. I am lucky to be here at all. My family were told to expect the worst on more than one occasion and when it seemed I was going to live there was still the risk of organ damage, brain damage, stroke, etc.
Yes. I am very lucky. There has been no permanent damage. I will make a full recovery and be back to the way I was before eventually.
If you have read this far then you must be wondering what I am talking about, what happened to me. A couple of entries ago I was complaining about the delay in having my gall bladder removed. In January I went into hospital via accident and emergency because I was in so much pain and a couple of days later I had the operation I had waited for for so long. Within a day or two of coming home I was in an operating theatre fighting for my life. Unfortunately, I developed a blood clot on my right lung. Multiple complications followed its removal. Around 15 hours in theatre, 56+ units of blood and an Ecmo machine, and especially the dedication and skill of the surgical team gave me my life back.
I will probably talk about this a lot when I have enough energy to use the computer. For this I apologise in advance. But the traumatic events of these last couple of months have left me grappling to come to terms with what happened. I have been home for almost two weeks, roughly 8 weeks ago I had just left intensive care and could not even feed myself. Now I can prepare a simple meal and am mobile within the house, although I cannot manage the stairs. Carers come in every day and a nurse visits every other day to change the dressings on wounds left by the Ecmo machine.
I hate my helplessness.
I am grateful to be alive.