Looking at the tiled ceiling is never a fun thing.
It’s truly a thing of constant dismay and left me in a befuddled state for someone who’s already thinking a lot off the top to begin with & is forced to sit on their hands in this situation. So many things go through my head right now.
“Maybe I shouldn’t be here, figuratively & metaphorically ”
“What happens after this, it’s unexplored territory for me?”
“Will I ever get back to doing things normally?
“What happened while I was sedated?”
“Where am I foundation wise in other people’s lives?”
“Maybe I’m just a vicious a*% koala bear.”
That last one was brought up by the comedian Katt Williams in his set in DC & may be outlandish but still valid because of the situation, the same way he was talking about the tigers in San Diego was how I felt.
Over the past 70 days from the good days like being cleared & having full kidney function again to the bad ones when I found out I had tracheotomy because I was labored in breathing, it has been a roller coaster of emotions & events from the start in May to now. This moment in life is a slow crawl of progression of achievements, there has been progress but if could snap my finger like Thanos to get out of this situation I would do it to stop getting poked and prodded everyday (which is normal in a hospital) & be back at 100% I would. In my stay I’ve gotten desperate because I’ve done things like hop & slide to a nearby seat in the room because I was tired of being in the bed making one of the nurses say she would beat me with a wet noodle if she could (fully justified) for all the trouble I made or even being a fall risk patient I have a bed alarm that if it goes off, a person comes rushing in from nursing staff sometimes way quicker than the call button because its probably worse case scenario, so one occasion when I lost that remote with the long cord & raised up with the ingenuity of McGyver to get help since I didn’t have that red call button. These last 2 & 1/3 months have been
a huge test for not only myself but the people around as me well. Going from moving normally to being on a walker or in a wheelchair or being able to talk to being mute is hard for anyone especially having to rebuild after having those things most of your life (26 years) is hard, it felt like someone kicked over my wood block tower. Once I finally get released the journey may be tough mentally and physically I’m gonna keep swinging till my lifetime is a wrap because others didn’t get the same chance. I was finally released and went back home to Texas which I thought would never happen & as I got back to West Texas City Phil (a family friend) guided me past the wheelchair that was in the garage on my walker & told me “you’re not gonna need that thing.” When the guy speaks you listen because he had his own tribulations on his own but when people around you are doing great things you tend to become a sponge. It may have been a small part of my journey out of the hospital, however it left me with a huger chip on my shoulder & it was fuel to my resilient nature.