This discussion covers my stay in the hospital after surgery and before I was able to return home. I will try not to be too graphic. But I want to continue to be honest and give my full view of events. And remember, even then I was strong-willed in my determination not to be depressed and to be thankful about my prognosis. This was not easy. But I kept a positive attitude. I was resolute that the future would be bright.
So, please do not be discouraged from what you are about to read. There’s another old saying I like to keep in mind. It is attributed to the philosopher Nietzsche: “That which does not kill us, makes us stronger.” I never realized how true that saying was until I began traveling along this journey that I’m on.
Initially, I was placed in an intensive care unit in the hospital. There were five other people in the room besides me, set up three and three. At that point, I was completely out of it. I was on various IVs and high-dose pain medications. I was being fed through my nose and had a catheter to relieve myself. Moving at all was the last thing that I had on my mind.
Being in the ICU was an experience in and of itself. One woman was hallucinating and screaming, and had to be sent to another room. And with the actions of one man, I thought I also must be hallucinating. He kept taking off all of his clothes and fighting with the aides when they tried to get him dressed. He too was removed from the ICU. After seeing that patient, I thought it’s sure interesting being in the hospital.