Six weeks
It’s been six weeks since I almost died. Four weeks of my brain not working the same because it was fighting the infection in my leg. Six different antibiotics over three weeks. One week in the hospital where I was in three rooms, had two beds, saw at least twenty doctors and only had one bad caregiving experience. It’s been four weeks since I puked in the shower from the pain. I’ve had countless doses of five types of pain medication. I’ve missed four weeks of work - three of them without pay. Filled out dozens of forms. I haven’t received a bill yet. I did get a huge foam cushion to elevate my leg and a huge bottle of thick unscented lotion. Lots of skin has peeled off.
The amazing part was that I stayed in my body though out my illness. Present, noticing what was happening. Feeling everything from the inside. I was close to the veil a couple of times. The threshold to death. But it was inside me rather than outside where I’ve experienced it before. It was strange to feel death inside me but it wasn’t scary. Scary is knowing that I’m more vulnerable to reinfections. That cuts, scrapes, and blisters are now causes for alarm. My life and body have changed again and I’m grateful for it all.
The amazing part was that I stayed in my body though out my illness. Present, noticing what was happening. Feeling everything from the inside. I was close to the veil a couple of times. The threshold to death. But it was inside me rather than outside where I’ve experienced it before. It was strange to feel death inside me but it wasn’t scary. Scary is knowing that I’m more vulnerable to reinfections. That cuts, scrapes, and blisters are now causes for alarm. My life and body have changed again and I’m grateful for it all.