liverdamage

(First published 2/16/2020)

So if you know me, you know the whole Denver thing. Recap: minor surgery went tremendously wrong, bad things happened including septic shock and living on a vent for awhile.

Once that was over, I had to learn to walk and feed myself again. 3 months hospitalized in that hospital, then most of the rest of 2012 in various hospitals in Missouri learning to live again. It sucked.

I swore I would never step back into Denver. I have purposely chosen flights over the past eight years that cost hundreds of dollars more just to avoid DIA as a layover. But this weekend, I came, for the eighth anniversary (today!) of the day I should have died. Took the man who saved my life in more ways than he will ever imagine out to dinner. When I told him I didn’t know if he remembered me, he told me I was the patient he’d never forget. He was my champion in ways that I never knew.

He made sure I survived. The burger we bought him last night seems like inadequate payback. (He did not perform the botched surgery, he was just the poor guy tasked to clean up the mess that slip of the surgeon’s knife created.)

T

hen today I went to that hospital. I remembered absolutely nothing. I lived there for months and to me it all looked unfamiliar. A patient was in my old room, 734, but I took a photo right outside of it. After I got out of the ICU, I spent 2 months in that room.

Dr P asked me what I learned from the whole debacle.

I learned every day is a gift.

I learned I should have spoken up when I knew something was wrong right after that surgery happened instead of waiting until everything went to hell in a hand basket (which was a matter of maybe six hours).

I learned I am stronger than I ever knew.

I learned who my true friends are and the people who have my back.

I learned that despite getting divorced when I was very young, my parents are a badass team when it comes to taking care of what they both call the best thing they ever did together (me).

I learned that my mother in law is marvelous and has the patience of Job, the way she flew 5000 miles on a moments notice and kept trying to feed me when I couldn’t feed myself.

I learned that my grandmother has the ability to put me on prayer lists in churches I’ve never even heard of.

I learned that I have a cousin/soul sister that will fly to come see me despite being six weeks pregnant and feeling like crap, just to make sure I’m okay and remind me she has my back always.

####I learned that my husband is the most amazing man on the planet and without him I wouldn’t have made it out of that hospital, let alone where I am now.

And most of all, even though I am a deep cynic, l learned there are amazing people in the world, like this particular physician who kicked ass, took names (literally) and saved my life. I’ll forever be indebted to you, sir.

#Vacterl #vatersyndrome #liverdamage #ercp

So if you know me, you know the whole Denver thing. Recap: minor surgery went tremendously wrong, bad things happened including septic shock and living on a vent for awhile. Once that was over, I had to learn to walk and feed myself again. 3 months hospitalized in that hospital, then most of the rest of 2012 in various hospitals in Missouri learning to live again. It sucked.

I swore I would never step back into Denver. I have purposely chosen flights over the past eight years that cost hundreds of dollars more just to avoid DIA as a layover. But this weekend, I came, for the eighth anniversary (today!) of the day I should have died. Took the man who saved my life in more ways than he will ever imagine out to dinner. When I told him I didn’t know if he remembered me, he told me I was the patient he’d never forget. He was my champion in ways that I never knew. He made sure I survived. The burger we bought him last night seems like inadequate payback. (He did not perform the botched surgery, he was just the poor guy tasked to clean up the mess that slip of the surgeon’s knife created.)

Then today I went to that hospital. I remembered absolutely nothing. I lived there for months and to me it all looked unfamiliar. A patient was in my old room, 734, but I took a photo right outside of it. After I got out of the ICU, I spent 2 months in that room.

Dr P asked me what I learned from the whole debacle.

I learned every day is a gift.

I learned I should have spoken up when I knew something was wrong right after that surgery happened instead of waiting until everything went to hell in a hand basket (which was a matter of maybe six hours).

I learned I am stronger than I ever knew.

I learned who my true friends are and the people who have my back.

I learned that despite getting divorced when I was very young, my parents are a badass team when it comes to taking care of what they both call the best thing they ever did together (me).

I learned that my mother in law is marvelous and has the patience of Job, the way she flew 5000 miles on a moments notice and kept trying to feed me when I couldn’t feed myself.

I learned that my grandmother has the ability to put me on prayer lists in churches I’ve never even heard of.

I learned that I have a cousin/soul sister that will fly to come see me despite being six weeks pregnant and feeling like crap, just to make sure I’m okay and remind me she has my back always.

I learned that my husband is the most amazing man on the planet and without him I wouldn’t have made it out of that hospital, let alone where I am now.

And most of all, even though I am a deep cynic, l learned there are amazing people in the world, like this particular physician who kicked ass, took names (literally) and saved my life. I’ll forever be indebted to you, sir.

#Vacterl #vatersyndrome #liverdamage #ercp