im not gonna cut this. sorry
Isn't it scary to think that one minute you can be here and fine and the next you could be gone?
One turn in the wrong direction, one mistake, one small mistake.
I gotta stop thinking about this, it's getting upsetting but all the time I mean ALL THE TIME I think about the surgery thing about 6 months ago. I hate bringing it up bc I don't wanna anyone to think I'm digging for attention. I'm not, it's just I can't get it out of my head.
I was sitting in 4th block today, Psychology of all places, I'm totally fine and all of a sudden I think about that day, first falling asleep on the table then waking up in that bed. And I was in pain. The same pain i was in on that day.
I don't think I can describe how much pain I was in. I opened my eyes and I couldn't move. I was stiff. When I put myself back in that place, I can still feel everything. I can feel the stabbing pain, the stabbing stabbing pain when I took shallow breaths not BEING ABLE to catch my breath. Begging for morphine that never completely helped.
The shots and shots and millions of shots I had placed into my arms and hands in that short period of time. I explain to a lot of people how now I'm terrfied of needles. Someone who could once walk into a hospital and get a couple shots without wincing now bursts ito tears at the thought of a needle coming ner their skin.
The morphine drip I had in my arm and having to push the button that would insert morhine into my arm every 10 minutes just so the crying would subside and I could relax. When the morphine went into my arm it would burn so bad. It hurt and made my arm cold but in a bad way. It felt like hell. I can feel it right now. I CAN FEEL IT!!!!!!
I wouldn't sleep for more than an hour or two, I'd wake up in my own sweat and tears. The pain made me wish I could have died right there. I couldn't walk.
First waking up, immediately after surgery I remember having pressure on my calves. I couldn't walk for a couple days. Just to get up and go to the bathroom felt like every move was slowly killing me.
Why do I do this to myself?
I remember coming home. The drive home. I was still in the worst pain. Every bump we'd go over would kill me. I remember going to walgreens to get Vicodin and then passing out, waking up to my mom's voice. Trying to get up the stes and then trying to get somewhere fast and get somewhere comfortable.
My shoulders were in reall bad pain too. My surgeon had an explanation to why my shoulders were really sore but I can't describe this. Something about having to let air go into my body while they did what they had to do. There was still air in the cavity of my shoulder. something like that. This pan in my shoulders, there wasn't a position i could lay that wouldnt hurt. I slept on the couch forever it seems. I had to be propped against pillows and a large blanket folded because if I laid flat or even a little flat it would feel like my insides were ripping. I couldn't eat for an entire month or maybe it was longer. I remember going 2 weeks almost before I could get enough strength to get a shower. The bandages starting to get crusty and dry so we took them off.
Then going back for a follow-up and my surgeon said later "I looked like I was on the verge of death" and finding out that he wasn't stretching the truth.
No one knew what was going on inside but I was dying. Bile was leaking and stroying every organ in my body.
I almost died from something that was supposed to help me.
I almost died.
I almost died.
I COULD HAVE FUCKING DIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I can't get out of this state of mind.
Why do I put myself back there?
Why do I keep thinking about it?
One turn in the wrong direction, one mistake, one small mistake.
I gotta stop thinking about this, it's getting upsetting but all the time I mean ALL THE TIME I think about the surgery thing about 6 months ago. I hate bringing it up bc I don't wanna anyone to think I'm digging for attention. I'm not, it's just I can't get it out of my head.
I was sitting in 4th block today, Psychology of all places, I'm totally fine and all of a sudden I think about that day, first falling asleep on the table then waking up in that bed. And I was in pain. The same pain i was in on that day.
I don't think I can describe how much pain I was in. I opened my eyes and I couldn't move. I was stiff. When I put myself back in that place, I can still feel everything. I can feel the stabbing pain, the stabbing stabbing pain when I took shallow breaths not BEING ABLE to catch my breath. Begging for morphine that never completely helped.
The shots and shots and millions of shots I had placed into my arms and hands in that short period of time. I explain to a lot of people how now I'm terrfied of needles. Someone who could once walk into a hospital and get a couple shots without wincing now bursts ito tears at the thought of a needle coming ner their skin.
The morphine drip I had in my arm and having to push the button that would insert morhine into my arm every 10 minutes just so the crying would subside and I could relax. When the morphine went into my arm it would burn so bad. It hurt and made my arm cold but in a bad way. It felt like hell. I can feel it right now. I CAN FEEL IT!!!!!!
I wouldn't sleep for more than an hour or two, I'd wake up in my own sweat and tears. The pain made me wish I could have died right there. I couldn't walk.
First waking up, immediately after surgery I remember having pressure on my calves. I couldn't walk for a couple days. Just to get up and go to the bathroom felt like every move was slowly killing me.
Why do I do this to myself?
I remember coming home. The drive home. I was still in the worst pain. Every bump we'd go over would kill me. I remember going to walgreens to get Vicodin and then passing out, waking up to my mom's voice. Trying to get up the stes and then trying to get somewhere fast and get somewhere comfortable.
My shoulders were in reall bad pain too. My surgeon had an explanation to why my shoulders were really sore but I can't describe this. Something about having to let air go into my body while they did what they had to do. There was still air in the cavity of my shoulder. something like that. This pan in my shoulders, there wasn't a position i could lay that wouldnt hurt. I slept on the couch forever it seems. I had to be propped against pillows and a large blanket folded because if I laid flat or even a little flat it would feel like my insides were ripping. I couldn't eat for an entire month or maybe it was longer. I remember going 2 weeks almost before I could get enough strength to get a shower. The bandages starting to get crusty and dry so we took them off.
Then going back for a follow-up and my surgeon said later "I looked like I was on the verge of death" and finding out that he wasn't stretching the truth.
No one knew what was going on inside but I was dying. Bile was leaking and stroying every organ in my body.
I almost died from something that was supposed to help me.
I almost died.
I almost died.
I COULD HAVE FUCKING DIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I can't get out of this state of mind.
Why do I put myself back there?
Why do I keep thinking about it?