Sunday, January 20, 2008

Committed: Chapter 4


There's a bathroom chair right beside me and as I open my eyes I know that I need it. Close. The Undoing mud is coming out of me. Rushing out of me. And will for the next 12 hours.

My nurse is the most angelic woman I have ever met. She's as heavenly as the ER nurse was hellish. Nothing but kindness and empathy. She looks at me and says, "You didn't mean to be here, did you?" I have no words. Just more tears as I shake my head no.

I'm in a private room in the Intensive Care Unit with my very own angel. Tubes and wires snake around me preventing me from moving without her. I look up and see the number 38 on the monitor. The number that she's keeping an eye on. I know that whatever it means, it's way too low to be good.

I spend hours coming into consciousness and going to the bathroom chair. Every time I need her, she magically appears. Helps me. Is never rushed or angry. It's as if I'm the only thing she has to do.

I haven't seen anyone I know but my angel. I don't even wonder about anyone else. The peace of this place and the drugs to calm me are doing their tricks. My number is starting to go up and I know that's a good thing.

I feel saved. Safe. For the first time in a long, long time.

Things start to clear up and the reality starts to hit me. I didn't die. How the hell am I still here? I remember that my Aunt Gladys was in the ER with me. She was going to call my parents who were out of town for the holiday with the rest of my family. That means everyone knows. They'll all think that I am one of those weak people who just want attention. Who put themselves in a situation so that everyone must be focused upon them.

They walk in and I feel like their child again. I'm her baby. Her only child. I can tell it's breaking her heart to see me like this. I see the pain and guilt in their faces. What ifs float above their heads and swirl around the room silently.

They smile through their sadness and ask me how I'm feeling. I still have no words, only tears. They can only stay a few minutes. I need my rest. Just seeing them makes me tired. The angel asks them to leave.

Later, a lady comes in. She wants to talk and asks if I feel up to it. She's evaluating me. Seeing if I know what day it is, who the president is. She says that I can choose to stay if I want to. That no one will know I am here. I will be invisible to the world. She thinks four days would be a good stay. But it's up to me. I will be admitting myself. No one's committing me. My choice.

I say yes. But not for why she thinks.

18 comments:

Dana said...

I continue to read (and will continue to read), and understand the despair a little more.

Thank you!

motherx said...

What a dark time. Very honest and well written!

buffalodickdy said...

I am glad that I know you got past this, because I wouldn't know what to do if this was hapening right now...

Matt-Man said...

Fascinating stuff Real. And by the way, I think your site looks much better as you have it now. Cheers!!

Alli said...

Yes, your writing is beautiful and very heart felt.

Palm Springs Savant said...

WOW. I'm finally catching up after having been away for a few days. Yikes, this is some story, very personal and painful to share I am sure. Thank you for sharing this with us.

Jay said...

This has been really amazing to follow. I don't think too many people would be able to open themselves up like this. I wouldn't anyway.

Ms. Tuesday said...

I came from Corky's Log... fascinated by your story and didnt want to lurk.

Props for being able to talk so openly and honestly about something like this. And the writing is fantastic... there could be a novel in the works. A Million Little Pieces... but true.
=)

Biscuit said...

I'm glad you had your angel. I can so identify with your feelings of despair, and just having someone acknowledge your pain means so much. You did that for me recently, when you told me not to let anyone deny me the right to my feelings. So, you're a bit angelic yourself :)

mackeydoodle said...

I admire you you for sharing this very personal story.
How hard it must be for you to revisit this.

SWIZZLE STICK said...

I woke up this morning hoping for another post. Your writing is real, painful, heartfelt and has me spellbound. Thank you for your strength.

katy said...

you have done really well in sharing this it couldn't have been easy well done x

R.E.H. said...

I'm having a hard time coming up with anything to write that hasn't already been said here.

I know how you must've felt - sort of. I can only hope that you, like me, found after this "episode" of your life just how much life is worth living - through the good as well as the bad.

Eagerly awaiting further reading here.

Jeff B said...

Your honesty in presenting the facts along with your emotion is beautifully done here. Thank you again for being willing to share this very personal story with us.

Simply Curious said...

Shit. I've been following this and I just have to say that the vivid portrayal here is heart wrenching...It's so easy, yet so hard to read.

tt said...

I've decided to go buy some stock in kleenex!**snif-snif**
Between you and REH....I feel like i'm peeking into a window to your soul. I almost feel like I'm trespassing. But I can't help myself; I've got to keep sneaking a peek; I've got to make sure everything is going to be ok...
Gracious girl...You're writing this in such a way that I can really feel your sadness and despair.

Southern Sage said...

wow
a real page turner.

Hot Lemon said...

wow-- four days? This is obviously in the days before managed care. I love kindly RN's...