So much has happened since I last wrote that I got too overwhelmed to write anything at all. And then what would likely be immediately obvious to most people popped into my head: it’s possible to update in bits and pieces rather than all at once. So here’s a bit. Or a piece. (You decide.)
Back, now, to the topic at hand.
A few Saturdays ago, I went into status epilepticus and was rushed to an acute-care hospital. Shortly after I arrived, the doctors deemed it necessary to intubate me. I was on a ventilator until that Monday evening and in the ICU until the Tuesday night, when I was transported to the neuro ward. I was (finally) brought back to the rehab facility the following Monday, nine days after I left.
For many reasons, some obvious and some a little less so, the whole thing was traumatic. Having such a major seizure when they’ve been pretty good lately; finding myself back in the ICU; “waking up” after being on a ventilator and in an induced coma; worrying about losing the progress I’ve been working so hard to make. Feeling so physically awful. Feeling so out of control.
There’ve been, of course, silver linings, as there almost always are if I look hard enough for them. The epileptologist I was seeing at the hospital put me on a new medication that she’s confident will work well for me. I have a renewed appreciation for the calmer atmosphere at my rehab facility. And more (most?) importantly, my collection of Jellycat stuffed toys grew exponentially. If you’re ever looking for a gift for me … (kidding).