“I am on a journey I have never been on before…I’m figuring it out as I go.”
—-Marilyn Dalrymple
The day before Thanksgiving I slipped on the wet bathroom floor. Stupid that it even happened. Broke my femur in four places. During repair surgery, two blood clots landed in my lung. Downhill spiral ensued with most organs shutting down. Intubation for 10 days. Five percent chance of survival. Family informed and present. At 77 years of age, a miracle of sorts allowed me to remain on the planet.
I began the climb out of hell in the ICU, then the regular hospital. In a foggy daze. Lying flat on my back. Dialysis. Feeding by tube. Pain, bad. On oxygen. A catheter. Slowly, slowly “being out of it” morphed into “what the hell happened to me”?
Sent to an acute rehab from the hospital, I began the healing process. Physical, occupational and speech therapy for hours, then dropped back into bed via a Hoyer lift. I do not remember much of this 17 day experience. Then on to a skilled nursing facility for more therapy. No more Hoyer lift, no more oxygen, no more catheter, real food although soft only, and finally a walker with 50% weight bearing on the broken leg. Five long weeks. Good care. Finally home after three months of my life gone.
Now at full weight bearing. Still on the walker. Somehow my good leg ended up with a drop foot so I must learn to walk again being careful not to drag my toes and fall again.
So? I am definitely on a journey I’ve never been on before. One that will most likely look little like my former life. Ride my bike? Pickleball? Garden to the extent I once enjoyed? Long distance travel? Don’t know. Don’t know.
Many have prayed for me. Friends call to check in. My family stays close. What no one has asked is this: “What have you learned?”
Here is what I learned during my trip to hell:
*I can identify a compassionate human in about two seconds. Nurses, doctors, techs, PT people——-compassion IS present in the health care community but so is indifference. I was very afraid of indifference in my helplessness and so grateful for those who truly “saw” me.
*I was not technically dead so I cannot tell you about the light nor the tunnel but it was not dark during my nearly dying time. I cannot explain nor describe it. It was something unfortunately not uplifting.
*Family is everything. You can say you know this but until they sit by your bedside for weeks, it might be an empty aphorism.
*The advice to take one day at a time was never more true. A useful piece of wisdom.
*The beauty of nature, the roar of the wind, the sun shining on the water, and birds chirping at the backyard feeder give meaning to my life more than ever.
*I remain scared to die.
With these lessons, may I claw, crawl, or carefully walk some of the way back up the Slippery Slope…
“And one day, just like that,
You’ll rediscover your light.
You’ll embrace your inner warrior.
You’ll snatch your power back.
And the whole game will change.”
——-Author Unknown
Thank you for being an amazing example of a true woman warrior. You did not give up - many of us would have, I believe.
It is so wonderful to hear from you. Thank you! ❤☮
My friend, I am so glad you are recovering. I had not seen a "post from the slope" in some time and I was worried about you. You might find that worry strange, coming from a complete stranger, but I've enjoyed our interactions.
I must stay your story resonated with me. I was in Manhattan last week and took a tumble on a 53rd street sidewalk. As I was trying to get up two angels appeared on either side to help me up. I say angels, but they were simply two strangers that rushed to assist another stranger in need. And disappeared as quickly as they appeared. Fortunately, no broken bones, but an inability to use my right arm. I'm better now, just 'winged'.
I hope you continue to recover and you get back up the slope.
Regards,