fast. Your body eventually becomes dependent on the respirator and it’s very hard to get off
of them. On a very special day while in I.C.U., my nurse told me that I had a visitor. She said
it was my son, so I fought off sleeping, wanting to be totally awake for his visit. That day
wore on forever and ever. I was so anxious to see him. I lay there all balled up in emotion,
and not being able to talk yet because I needed a respiratory therapist to deflate my cuff and
put on my passing Muir. He came in, and we mainly talked about things which we are both
interested in. I want to say so much to him but my oxygen levels were dropping and the nurses
cut me short. I’ve missed him so much over the years and never got to say all I wanted to.
This was my turning point. That day was when I really began fighting for my life, rather than
attempting to exist. I became one motivated man on a mission. I wanted to get weaned off that
vent. I wanted to make it and have a chance to get to know my son.
I had no way of knowing the fight to get off the respirator would be such a struggle. You have
no feeling in your stomach,being paralyzed. I had faith in my respiratory therapists, and their
support in my struggle. I was determined to put forth every effort to get off the vent. It took all
of the concentration I had to make it through each second of being disconnected from that
machine. Every second felt like eternity as I counted in my head (1,001 – 1,002, etc) to space
my breaths, and keep my mind diverted from the feeling like I was suffocating. My body was
dependent on that machine, and I worked very hard to try to “retrain” it. It was a very tough
battle, where milliseconds are milestones. My mouth became so dry – unbearably dry. Real
tough to describe how dry.
I began moving my right arm with limited range. I watched my toes wiggle one day.
Movement is strange - really delayed and deliberate. I haven’t been able to wiggle my toes
like that again yet. I know that if I did it once, I can do it again. A couple of good therapists
got together and taped a suction device to my right wrist, giving me my first step toward
independence. Now I wouldn't have to use my call button every time I felt like I was choking
from the mucus. My left shoulder is still hurting, but I am feeling a little more comfortable
with the physical therapist sessions.
Lisa shows up on our previously scheduled wedding day of Aug. 25th, in her wedding dress.
What a site of beauty - she still wanted to marry me. We were going to find a minister to do it
right there in the hospital. The minister of the hospital wouldn't’t do it though, because neither
of us were Catholic. I personally did not believe in God until this had happened. Now I know
there truly is a higher power, and we definitely have made a deal with it to experience certain
things or influence certain lives in our paths.
Another thing nobody clued me in on was the emotions that overwhelm you. I could not even
watch T.V. without crying over something – anything. It was crazy. I was getting more and
more tolerant of people. The more hatred I let go, the more progress I made. My
communication was coming back because of the talk valve, and I was a man on a mission to
get better. Laying there consumed with emotions of my new lifeless body and the uncertainty of
the future,really tough times for sure.
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