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It's these voices, their knowledge and perspective, their personalities and humor, that we seek to share with you every night in Top Comments. Some comments the diarists pick. Other posts are nominated by your fellow Kossacks at topcomments at gmail dot com.
And we always welcome your participation - as a reader, as a nominator, or simply as a new and valued voice in our conversations.
From the film adaptation of The Two Towers, second volume in Tolkien's Lord of the Rings trilogy.
Dark have been my dreams of late.
This is the first clear statement by King Theoden of Rohan, after the wizard Gandalf has purged him of the spell that held him in a withered stupor.
Many of you know of my recent two-month sojourn at the hospital. I managed to pick up a rare strain of strep throat called strep milleri. This strain rarely gets into the heart and lungs; mine did so. This strain rarely kills; I was in grave peril on two occasions and lucky to have the level of experienced care that I did. The first time was the race to figure out exactly what I had, getting the antibiotics in play to address it and getting the superabundance of infected fluid and tissue out of my lungs. The second was identifying why my blood pressure began to collapse - my heart was being crushed by infected fluid in my pericardium, which was cut open and drained.
Then there were the relatively minor threats to life, such as (this apparently is uncommon too) severe reaction to heparin,a common blood thinner, during which my platelet count zeroed out...and the temporary shutdown of my body's production of new red blood cells (and the need for two pints of whole blood once they figured that one out). I suppose the pronounced swelling from an excess of fluids during an episode where I had 'diminished kidney function' should be added as well.
Suffice to say it all turned out nicely. Yup. I am home and on the mend after, let me count 'em, 43 days and 42 nights in the hospital.
I do not recall many of these days and nights. I was admitted into Charlotte Medical Center (CMC) on February 15. I remember being in the ER at about 9PM; I remember talk of an operating room opening up at 1 PM. Then one was available at 10 AM. The cry went up - OK we're on. A shot in the arm. Maybe it was an IV. I remember needing to pee. I remember trying to in a cup. No dice. Then they set in a catheter. Remember being on my side, feeling nothing at all. Then...zzzzz.
However...mostly, this diary is not my story. Rather it is that of my wife, aka mkkendrick or MKK here at DKOS.
This is about what she went through.
MKK is here to give me the scoop - I am taken to the OR, MKK follows to the OR waiting room. A couple of hours later - all is well, they sent me to ICU, where I lay more or less quietly save for occasional wigging out concerning some medical downturn, or a surgery, or a scan.
My wife's experience during this time were dominated by fear and concern, and attempts to get in touch with people starting with her time in the waiting room. She was using the wireless access in the hospital to email people. Her mobile was out of power so she waited on a friend from church to bring the charger. Another friend brought coffee and stayed with MKK for a while. Once charged, she called our mothers, hers and mine, and my employer.
After the surgery was over and I was situated, MKK found the Garden Cafe, which became her dietary home away from home due to the fine fixings of Brandon, who I have never met but hear is a cooking god. MKK has told me we will go there together next week after my cardiologist visit.
Following that first lunch, she returned to ask about what was happening with me. There was not much going on; I was just laying there. She asked how long I would be knocked out; the answer - he's stable for now but critically ill, this could be a while. In time Mary went to friends to take a nap, ate dinner with the boys (who were staying with these friends for several days. She came back to look at me a while, sleeping away, realized - oh, he's just going to sleep, then she went to get some sleep herself.
That became the pattern of my wife's life; go to hospital, take up residence in a corner of my ICU room with puzzles and newspapers, and hold vigil, checking my monitors frequently, getting updates on labs from the nurses, and made sure she was in the room for as many doctor visits as possible, which tended to be early in the morning. She would make sure she was there early for rounds, got information from them, asked questions if there were any scans or procedures planned.
As I listed in the preface above - too often in the early going, the news was bad, and MKK dreaded to approach the hospital wondering - What new bad news will I get today? Sidebar - on a couple of occasions, per MKK, "I would get the next day's bad news a day early", as doctors were openly considering procedures or challenges in my treatment.
Some days were very scary for her, downturns in my condition, major surgeries. MKK very early figured out that almost all the action happened during the day, so reconciled that it was ok to go home at night, and arrange for the boys to get back to some semblance of a normal life...with the exception of my being in the hospital.
A Facebook group was put up about a week after my being in the hospital, and then MKK would end her day posting an update, to let everyone know what was going on. Soon the impromptu news page became a hub for helping my wife and our two boys (sometimes known as The Pods) with things such as meals, and childcare, rides to scouts or church. MKK was getting offers of help from every direction. Organizing so much generosity was a bit of a logistical challenge; happily MKK's mother and best friend put together the calendars and the contact information to manage. Church was helpful, likewise my employer and colleagues. My many relatives in the area mobilized as well.
And all of this demonstration of human compassion and care and kindness happened around me while I was unconscious...
On February 24, my blood pressure fell way down. It was the result of a perfect storm of badness. I had to be given two pints of blood because my body no longer was producing red blood cells. I then needed a pigtail catheter inserted into my left side into the pleural space to drain fluid that was affecting my breathing. Then an echogram detected fluid around the heart that had not been there before. And they scheduled me for a pericardial window procedure - basically heart surgery - for the next day. I was stabilized ahead of this last, but it was precarious.
At which point my dear wife's incredible strength was almost overcome.
It was then that she entertained the possibility that I would not be coming home from the hospital. That I might not make it.
MKK spoke with her mother, who recognized from her tone of voice that while saying strong hopeful confident things, MKK was at the breaking point.
Later she met with our minister, who reminded her - "You do not know the situation but you do know yourself. And you smart, wise, still the same person who can look at a lot of complicated information and get it organized and making sense. You don't know the situation but you know MKK and that will help you get through this." It was a message of quiet confidence, and this helped my wife greatly in the days to come.
As it turned out, there were several days of steady improvement, enough that they began to take me off sedation on March 1; on March 2 I was cognizant enough to answer questions and, though it would seem to be as if in a dream, to watch five yards of gauze stripping pulled out of a hole in my neck by a physician's assistant in a business suit. MKK was there, of course, informing me that they were not planning to have more surgeries but they wanted to do a scan later to be sure...
...then the next day it was as if I had forgotten (since it was to me just a dream) everything that happened the day before, and she had to explain it all over. I believe this is what they call an example of anterograde amnesia, though in my case I would eventually (as in a few days ago) recover some of the actual details of that day.
This would be confusing and disheartening to my wife as well, because from MKK's perspective she was happy to see me awake but dismayed that I was not fully myself, nor reacting in expected ways to her. A big reason for that is that I had suffered from horrid nightmares the entire time I was under sedation, and as I was coming out, and populating my dreams with the influx of new information after many days of being starved for it, I had over the subsequent night a dream where I was being discharged...but MKK did not come around to get me. And I was just left there in a chair waiting and waiting.
Dark have been my dreams of late...
Anyway, that next day I woke up, and I was very cross with MKK. "You ditched me!" I snapped awake and glared at her.
Suffice to say she was put out by this statement.
"I did not! I've been here every day! Besides you sent me home saying I needed to be with the boys! I did what you told me to!"
I paused for multiple reasons. I can remember this now. Let the following be illustrative of just what prolonged doses of sedative can do to a person...
I woke up confused as to
- what city I lived in
- what year it was
- how old our children were
- how many we had
- that we had a daughter as well as two boys
- who my employer was
- it goes on and on and on
And in the words of my wife to a friend, reported to me today - "He's awake but he's not himself. I want my sweetie back!"
I could barely talk, as I had had a ventilator tube down my throat for two weeks. Based on a visit much later to my then-digs. I had a very different vision of my surroundings (the room, its placement, its furnishings, etc) at that time than what it actually was,and that was just for starters. I was basically sleepwalking. The difference between real dreams and waking ones was negligible. The dreams were that sharp; wakefulness was that fuzzy.
And then my condition deteriorated yet again.. I was having trouble breathing..and they needed to literally battle me to get the tube back down my throat. It was going poorly for them.. so they called in reinforcements.
My wife to the rescue.. of the nurses.. who, already frightened about my return to ICU, was not in a mood to put up with more of my crazy talk. She yelled at me saying she was with the nurses in this, that I needed to listen and do what they said.
I immediately became meek and behaved. She was the only one who could get through to me.
And then I went into the dark again. And more dark dreams. The worst of all, actually. That is for another story.
But I would be awakened a few days later by a nurse, who saw me stirring, and told me "Hey, there. You're in a hospital. You've just come out of surgery; do you understand me?" I could not talk but I looked up, saw her but not her face, but I held up a thumbs up and nodded. "Ok, are you in any pain?" I shook my head a bit and dozed off. I had a clearer understanding of my condition at this point...and, like someone who has had 5 drinks as opposed to 10 of them, I knew I was loopy and why.
Not two days later they removed the ventilator and I was breathing on my own. During this week, what I saw around me, in regards to my environment and what the environment actually was, converged. I was catching up on reality - or it with me. The sedative wore off, my dreams became more a thing of night time rather than a never-ending experience. They were still quite intense, but gradually the appropriate division of states of consciousness asserted itself.
During this time, I was given a cognitive test...and asked to identify the year and month, the names and ages of my children (all two of them), what the name and function of a spoon was, what the name and function of a pen was and who that woman in the corner reading a book was (MKK), who was beaming at this point because I was being rather snarky in my answers because I thought the questions were really simplistic, even insultingly so. She would tell me later her thought "Oh, that's him being himself again! My sweetie's back! Yay!"
It would be a couple of weeks more before I left the hospital but for my wife.. for me.. it was the moment I truly came home. And she had been there all along, waiting for me to return.
And that is what she went through.
And now for some Top Comments!
Eileen B exposits on the fragile spouse meme used by abusers.
Nearly every woman involved with an abusive man (exchange the genders anyway you like) is told by her abuser that she's "too sensitive" or "thin skinned."
In other words, she should accept the abuse.
Which of course she should never, ever do...a lesson too few learn soon enough to save themselves and others.
samantha in oregon asks in her own special way how far will these crazy people go?
Disown your kid if he or she voted for Obama
Divorce your spouse for voting for Obama!
Don't walk on the sidewalk if an Obama supporter has been walking on it!
Refuse to bathe because Obama voters bathe!
"Pull your wife's shotgun on a census worker!"
OK, a right-wing lunatic (redundant I know) actually said the last one, but I'm wondering just how far their lunacy will go ...
Well, no one's gone McVeigh on us in almost 16 years. Since, well, McVeigh. Keep your fingers crossed. Maybe they won't see just how far into Terrorist Land their kind have pushed the window already.
turkana itemizes some of the great technical moments from cinema in short order.
the greatest acting performance in any scene ever filmed: marlon brando, with his wife, in last tango in paris.
for an actress, miranda richardson, in the kitchen, at the end of damage.
maybe the best line ever was orson welles, improvising, in the ferris wheel, in the third man.
maybe the best scene by a director was the long, single shot, opening pan from touch of evil.
there isn't a scene in network that isn't astonishing for the writing and acting.
You have meddled with the primary forces of DKOS, Mr. Turkana, and I will not have it :)
How about them Top Comments Submissions?
maggiejean sends in this from Greasy Grant on full employment
If Obama's policies led to full employment, Megyn Kelly, Gingrich, etc. would accuse Obama of stealing eight hours of daily leisure time from millions of Americans.
LaughingPlanet proffers this gem from LaFeminista in her own diary
The Burqa a complicated issue, on both sides of the garment.
Heh. :)
Julie Gulden shares some snarkilicious advice from pat208
Uh, hello. This is the INTERNET!
You're not supposed to stop and think about anything!
Hee. Now that's a classic!
Benintn sez The Field makes a timely and apt analogy between Puritans and critics of pro-Obama diaries.
JanF - This comment by DBunn in Friday morning's Morning Feature contained some delightful snark related to the metaphor of Climate Change as a villain hiding in the closet while the unsuspecting Mary goes about her evening routine.
lineatus - Sure, vcthree's cherry pie recipe sounds delicious, but as zappodave reminds us According to new Meteor Blades rule number 14, Recipes must be in season. :)
And Now for the TOP MOJO
Top Mojo (cskendrick/sardonyx-style) excluding search-identifiable tip jars, first diary comments, Cheers and Jeers, various pooties, and Mojo Friday:
1) I hope Blackwaterdog continues to post her by LaurenMonica — 261
2) It is this attitude, and those just like yours, by panicbean — 224
3) And gawd what a great interview he is by voracious — 188
4) I once said... by kcc — 172
5) gawd, what an idiot she is. by ezdidit — 171
6) Then don't do it in your own diaries by sullivanst — 152
7) You know that our society has suspended disbelief by I said GOOD DAY sir — 150
8) Pre-existing conditions... by grannyhelen — 140
9) Photo diaries have a long history on this site. by sheddhead — 125
10) Signing the New START treaty with Medveydev is by Little Lulu — 124
11) 28% voted no by Cedwyn — 118
12) Why are TV commentators.. by The Bohemian Rebel — 117
13) Stephanopolus is such a useless disgrace by Voodoo king — 111
14) What is wrong with cheerleading for the leader of by OIL GUY — 109
15) They really should've compromised by having by DemocraticLuntz — 108
16) if you have those questions by indybend — 108
17) BWD's diaries represent her point-of-view by dansac — 108
18) for the nth time by drache — 106
19) You know by jsfox — 104
20) Your last paragraph is an epitome of the truth. by Nena20409 — 96
21) I think the fair compromise by jhw22 — 95
22) So write your own freaking diary asking by gustynpip — 91
23) EXACTLY...and really, who the fuck do these... by APA Guy — 88
24) After we stop laughing... by Ekaterin — 88
25) You might want to add this to your diary by DJShay — 86
26) The same mentality of "I got mine" by innereye — 85
27) No, that wasn't your point. by Inland — 84
28) At anyone time by IowaEdwardsSupporter — 84
29) What a sorry pass by MeMeMeMeMe — 81
30) Funny. If some priest had spoken out by beltane — 81
31) I find BWD's photo diaries by MufsMom — 81
Top Mojo with No Exclusions:
1) Tip Jar by ClearBuzz — 610
2) Tip Jar by RandySF — 541
3) Tip Jar by Olympia — 519
4) Tip Jar by CatM — 508
5) Tip Jar by LaurenMonica — 458
6) this is how it works: by Turkana — 424
7) Tip Jar by dissonantdissident — 414
8) Tip Jar by Alan Grayson — 345
9) Tip Jar by Old Redneck — 315
10) Tip Jar by Alien Abductee — 265
11) I hope Blackwaterdog continues to post her by LaurenMonica — 261
12) It is this attitude, and those just like yours, by panicbean — 224
13) Tip Jar by deaniac83 — 213
14) And gawd what a great interview he is by voracious — 188
15) Tip Jar by bobswern — 181
16) I once said... by kcc — 172
17) gawd, what an idiot she is. by ezdidit — 171
18) Tip Jar by irishwitch — 167
19) Tip Jar by teacherken — 155
20) Then don't do it in your own diaries by sullivanst — 152
21) You know that our society has suspended disbelief by I said GOOD DAY sir — 150
22) Scritchie Jar by triciawyse — 143
23) Pre-existing conditions... by grannyhelen — 140
24) Tip Jar by MrLiberal — 139
25) Tips for AZ n/t by RodneyGlassman — 132
26) Photo diaries have a long history on this site. by sheddhead — 125
27) Signing the New START treaty with Medveydev is by Little Lulu — 124
28) 28% voted no by Cedwyn — 118
29) Why are TV commentators.. by The Bohemian Rebel — 117
30) Stephanopolus is such a useless disgrace by Voodoo king — 111