My Brain is Broken

This entry is part 3 of 7 in the series Never-Ending Nightmare - Someone Please Wake Me Up

 

 

 

 

The nightmare continues………………

I survived my first and last helicopter ride only to be left in the care of:

Useless Doctors

Did you ever play with a water balloon, squeezing it until all the water was on one side, just to see how much it would take to burst? Remember how thin the balloon would get before spewing water everywhere? My Brain is Broken - Part 3 of 7-part series summarizing the 18 months following a massive thalamic hemorrhagic stroke. Well I had 2 near bursting balloons for eyes with the fattest drill bit ever burrowing deep into my brain between them.

What’s my pain level from 1-10? FIVE F-ING HUNDRED.

This is how my days in ICU went:

Day 1

Doctor 1:

Dr: Do you know where you are?
Me: The hospital

Dr: Do you know why you’re here?
Me: My brain is broken

Dr: What’s wrong with your brain?
Me: It’s bleeding (like I even had a clue as to what that meant to me or my future)

Dr: Who’s the president?
Me: Well if it’s still October, then Obama

Doctor 2:

Dr: Do you know where you are?
Me: The hospital

Dr: Do you know why you’re here?
Me: My brain is broken

Dr: What’s wrong with your brain?
Me: It’s bleeding

Dr: Who’s the president?
Me: Well if it’s still October, then Obama

Doctor 3:

Dr: Do you know where you are?
Me: yes

Dr: Do you know why you’re here?
Me: My brain is broken

Dr: What’s wrong with your brain?
Me: Go ask the doctor that was just here

Dr: Who’s the president?
Me: Well if it’s still October, then Obama

 

My Brain is Broken - Part 3 of 7-part series summarizing the 18 months following a massive thalamic hemorrhagic stroke. Doctor 4:

Dr: Do you know where you are?
Me: Why are you bothering me

Dr: Do you know why you’re here?
Me: My brain is broken

Dr: What’s wrong with your brain?
Me: It’s bleeding

Dr: Who’s the president?
Me: I don’t care

 

Doctor 5:

Dr: Do you know where you are?
Me: This is old

Dr: Do you know why you’re here?
Me: My brain is broken

Dr: What’s wrong with your brain?
Me: If you need to ask me, I’m screwed

Dr: Who’s the president?
Me: Who cares?

Doctor 6:

Me: Don’t even start, if you’re not going to take care of the pain, GET OUT

Well I obviously didn’t lose my smart-ass attitude but I did lose that connection between my brain and my mouth.  More than just the filter that stops you from saying what you’re thinking.  I actually wondered who said some things because I never thought them, my mouth just spewed sounds that became words.  The things I heard were very odd.

It started with Freddy’s brother and sister-in-law attempting to visit and someone asking me if it was ok if they came in. I loudly said, “No, she’s a LUNATIC”. Poor horrified Danny went chasing after them apologetically. Oh well, what are you gonna do. She hasn’t talked to me since, which is more than fine with us (she kinda is a lunatic).

At that point, I heard my ex-husband behind me say something about what I’d say if I knew he was there. Hearing his voice left me very perplexed but again, oh well.

I have no idea what anyone looks like, I can’t lift my head or open my eyes. I still haven’t gotten water.

It still hasn’t occurred to me that I may die. I came to find out that I spent 4 days near death with only a 25% chance of living. Guess that’s why all these strange people were there, I was dead.

My Brain is Broken - Part 3 of 7-part series summarizing the 18 months following a massive thalamic hemorrhagic stroke. The funniest thing happened that first night in ICU. Freddy, always scraggly looking, in constant need of a haircut and perpetually filthy (sells & fixes old used cars) needed a break. Not wanting to leave – it was touch and go, found a deserted corner in the cafeteria in the middle of the night to rest.

Security decided he was homeless and not only questioned his purpose for being there but made him prove that he had someone in ICU by escorting him back to ICU. I’m so sorry I missed that. It would have been hysterical. I hope everyone else waiting at least laughed.

The next day, still not realizing the seriousness of my situation, I was really confused to hear my brother’s voice. He was in Florida. Am I now hearing voices, why would he be here? I was fine – well except for my head exploding. This is ridiculous, everyone go home.

Later I found out that Danny never left the hospital for those first 4 days. Weeks later when we talked about it, I asked why. He said, “You wouldn’t leave me”. I cried. It was very touching but still to this day, I’m a little upset about it. Being there all that time had to be extremely hard on him, especially since he was alone at times.  Feeling guilty for affecting my family started way before the real effects kicked into high gear.

I’m sure Tommy wouldn’t have left either but he was 14, not allowed to make his own decisions. Boy could I relate to him over the coming months.

Doctors Day 2

Now remember, that humongous drill bit is burrowing deep into my brain between my bursting eyeballs. By now I’m also on FIRE unable to comprehend how anyone can touch me without being burned. My insides had to be melting. There wasn’t enough ice.

My Brain is Broken - Part 3 of 7-part series summarizing the 18 months following a massive thalamic hemorrhagic stroke.

Doctor 1

Dr: Do you know where you are?
Me: Just put me to sleep until it passes.

Dr: “No, we can’t do that because we won’t know if you’re sleeping from the meds or the stroke”’
Me: WHO F-ING CARES – this is insane, you’re not helping with the pain, and you’re not stopping the bleeding. What purpose do you serve?

Oh wait, I know that answer. They visit me to master the art of asking questions.

Doctor 2

Ok, I’ll cooperate for a moment (maybe if I do they’ll help me).

Dr: Do you know where you are?
Me: The hospital

Dr: Do you know why you’re here?
Me: My brain is broken

Dr: What’s wrong with your brain?
Me: You won’t fix it

Then again, maybe I won’t. This went on for my entire 5-day stay in ICU a minimum of 6 times a day.

Swallow Police

Days later I made it to the step down unit. Slightly more aware of my surroundings, I was finally granted an audience with Brian from the swallow police. It’s about time – water – NOT. No, Brian gave me applesauce, yuck. At which point crazy talk steps in, and out of my mouth I hear, “applesauce, I’m the boss of the applesauce”.  Of course when this was happening my family was there to witness and remind.

So I never forget this silliness, a month later in rehab, my family gets together and purchases me an iPad to aid in my recovery and has it personalized with yup, you guessed it, “Boss of the Applesauce” – thank you Auntie Randi.

My Brain is Broken - Part 3 of 7-part series summarizing the 18 months following a massive thalamic hemorrhagic stroke. 5 more days in the hospital and I can only open my eyes for seconds, I’m still in excruciating pain and still burning hot, and some silly fool (probably one of the doctors who practices the art of asking questions) decided I was ready for rehab.

 

Watch Out – Crazy Mom

I was really at the top of my game that day (can you hear the sarcasm?). This adorable young nurse was trying to get me to swallow some obscenely tasting medicine. I just wasn’t going to do it. But she was so cute and sweet that I said I would if she had dinner with Danny. They would have made such a cute couple, and really he just needed a laugh. He’d been at the hospital way too much. So not like me at all but “me” has already disappeared.

Right when they really started chatting, probably about how crazy his mother is, the ambulance came to take me to rehab. I freaked, not really understanding what was going on. I begged him to come with me and took him away from the most interesting conversation he had in 10 days.

I feel so bad for making so many people feel uncomfortable. But I didn’t stop there.

Lunatic On-Board My Brain is Broken - Part 3 of 7-part series summarizing the 18 months following a massive thalamic hemorrhagic stroke.

So I’m all settled in the ambulance and I ask where they were taking me. The driver very kindly tells me to Rehab with all the details and location, only for me to adamantly say “WRONG”. I then proceed to spew off my address and say “Take me there”.

Poor Danny; he just can’t escape my many embarrassing moments. He seems to be around for all of them; feeling the need to constantly apologize for my rude inappropriate behavior.

Poor me; the only things I truly remember are my embarrassing moments.

Why is it that when our mind fails us, it deletes the good stuff and leaves the garbage we’d be more than happy to forget?

Stay tuned for part 4 – Ignorance is Bliss – my months in rehab.

Till next time - Have Wonderful Days - Leslie

 

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2 Responses to My Brain is Broken

  1. Vania Swinford May 31, 2015 at 10:08 am #

    Very well written Leslie

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