Episode 5: "How do you remove that?

I need to backtrack a little here.

I had an AWESOME head of hair when I was admitted. Long and curly. It never hit me until I looked in a mirror the second day at Munson, that it was gone. They cut it all off and shaved my head in Petoskey. So long awesome hair!

 I also forgot to mention that my feeding tube, catheter and med tap were still connected to my body when I was transferred, just in case they needed to be used again. 1 week in, it was time to remove all three. The nurse came in the first week and "gently" removed my catheter. It was quick. I told her that I still felt pressure, and she said not to worry. My bladder was empty.

It wasn't.....I peed all over her, my bed and myself. I was so embarrassed, but God bless her, she laughed and said not to worry. It sometimes happen. Wow. That was the first and last time I ever urinated on someone. Not as kinky as I thought it was going to be.

The next day they removed the sutures on my med tap. I When they took it off my chest, it bled alot, and scared me. My blood was so thinned by the meds, I felt like the oil that Jed Clampett discovered when he was shooting at some food. It actually it! 10 minutes later, I was stitched up and ready to go. The next morning it was time for the feeding tube to be removed.

I was wheeled into the OR and prepped. They didn't put me out, but MAN was I loopy. I could hear music playing, and I asked him how he was going to remove the tube.

"Just like a lawnmower!" he said, and proceeded to yank it right out. It was actually pretty cool. I never felt a thing because of the drugs, and I laughed. It was that easy. Some stitches and back to my room I went.

Now being in Traverse, I was far away from friends and family so I didn't have many visitors. My sister who DID live in Traverse would come by and eat lunch with me 3-4 days out of the week. My parents would come by on the weekends, and my ex-wife would stop by occasionally. But I had the GREATEST staff in the world that were always there no matter what I needed, ready to make me laugh.

Therapy. LOTS of theraband. Kind of like a latex rubber mesh that you hook to something, and pull to strengthen your muscles. It was always a joy when it snapped back hitting me. Also this weird mouth thing. I call it that because I have NO idea what it's real name is. You put it in your mouth and it's like a spring. You open your mouth, then try to close it against this spring. This went on for about 15 minutes a day. It loved to fly out of my mouth as well.

The beginning of the second week I finally got a bath. Oh my GOD! HOORAY!!!!! They put me on a flat gurney and my nurse wheeled me into a giant shower. It was the size of a living room. Bare naked lying there with a VERY good looking nurse bathing me. Yeah, it was awesome....not going to lie to you. But still, I wasn't able to do this on my own, and reality kind of hit me. I always took simple things for granted. I miss being able to shower myself. To eat food myself, Everything I needed I had to be assisted. And it hit me again. The guilt.

My days were filled with therapy, and tests. My nerves were coming back at a tremendous rate. You may think that's a good thing, but the pain that goes with the regeneration was horrible. They had to up my meds to keep me sedated from the agonizing burning of my now reviving nerves. They also fed me whatever I wanted. I was so tired in the mornings, I usually just had sausage. Because I was on a calorie count, and had to reach a certain goal, I usually had 10 big links. Nothing else sounded good. At least it didn't have to be ground up anymore.

Easter was coming and I wanted to see my family. My Mom and Dad cooked up this massive amount of food and brought it down to the hospital. My family and I sat in the rec room, me in a wheelchair of course, and had Easter dinner. They also brought enough food for the staff as a way for thanking them for the great care they gave me. Bob Munieo, a helluva great guy, even sent a HUGE blueberry cheesecake for me that he made from scratch. I shared it with my nurses. They were always so good to me so it made me smile that I could give something to them.

I had to learn how to get up if I were to fall. This was extremely painful and awkward. They would set me on the ground, and I would have to use my wheelchair or whatever was available for leverage, and pull myself up. I was getting pretty good, but a little cocky.

The nurse came in at the beginning of week 4 and I wanted to surprise her. Not only was I able to dress myself, (shorts and a t-shirt) but I sat up and relaxed on the end of the bed. Then my cockiness got the best of me. I pushed myself up using the chair next to the table. I was able to actually stand, and then promptly fell straight over onto the tile floor. Face first with a thud. Ow. Learned a valuable lesson that day. Don't be an idiot.

Week 4 was great. I actually got to go to the library on a day trip outside. I finally was able to check my e-mail. Hmmmm.....over 1500 of them. I blew through what I could and went back to Munson. I also realized I had over 200 cards and letters from my friends and family. I finally got to read them all. I had to cry. It was overwhelming.

Then something happened at the end of week 4. I suddenly got sick. VERY sick. I spiked a 103 temp and my enzyte count shot through the roof. My liver wasn't working right and my kidneys were failing. It happened literally in 6 hours. I was rushed to ICU and hooked up to ANOTHER ton of machines. What the hell was going on? I was doing so good! They stopped all meds, and monitored me to see what happened. Turned out I had "Drug Fever". My body was just too saturated with meds, and it was shutting down. As soon as the meds were adjusted, the fever broke.

Now, when I was back in ICU 3 people came to see me. To this day I swear it was Bryan Winegar, Tim Roeth and Shannon LaVoie. They snuck me in a pizza from Crusted Creations in Traverse. And it was like heaven. But when I asked Bryan about it, he says it wasn't him. Same with Tim. I have not spoken to Shannon, but if it wasn't them? Who was it? I honestly don't know who it was. But they were angels. Angels with a pepperoni pizza and double cheese.

Back to my room after 3 days I went. Week 5 was just starting and I was looking forward to busting my ass so I could go home. The depression was still effecting me, and I was able to talk to the hospital counselor about my survivors guilt. It was hard going through what I did, and know that I lived. It just felt weird. I can't explain it to this day. I felt guilty for being alive and having all of these people have to take care of me. To put mu friends and family what I went through. I just didn't feel right, and it effected me.

Then something happened. One afternoon a guy came to my room. He told me he had been sick with GBS a few years back, and he wanted to give me something. He handed me an envelope and said "Someone gave me an envelope when I was in the hospital. He told me to do the same for someone else who needs it when you can."

In the envelope was $100. I was floored. I wanted to say more to him, but he left. Just like that. A stranger just handed me $100 because he thought I needed it. He was paying it forward. I suddenly felt really good. I felt like I was SUPPOSED to survive. I would from that day on help anyone who needed help. That is why to this day I help people by fixing their computers at no charge if they can't afford it, and give computers to those who need one. I was going to be ok.

The next day, I was told I was going home. After nearly 13 weeks. I was going home.

Did the ambulance driver that drove me home stop for Wendy's so I could get a cheeseburger and a Frosty? Find out tomorrow for the meaty conclusion!