One Year Ago Today...

Just spent an hour trying to open my blog. Thanks Google! Grrrr....

Anyway...

One year ago I was having trouble with a pain in my leg. There were two spots in my lower left leg that hurt. I didn't know why, so I took some Tylenol and sat in the living room hoping that would take care of it. As many of you know, in 2010 I was diognosed with Large Granular Lymphosite Leukemia. The symptoms are flu like, high fever, chills, sweats, fatigue. I  was referred to a specialist and was put on a drug called Methotrexate that seemed to be keeping me on an even keel after I had a secondary infection that put me in the hospital. I was doing OK, but had a weakened immune system.

Back to Dec. 7, 2012. During the month before, I had been getting flu-like symptoms. I got a flu shot and did a round of antibiotics that seemed to help. Still I wasn't feeling real well. The pain was getting worse. I took more Tylenol and tried to go to sleep for a while. Finally it was decided that I go to the hospital. We drove to emergency. I remember every bump and felt like it was taking forever. They admitted me and after that I don't remember much of the nest three days. I had developed a serious bacterial infection called necroizing fesciitis which I joking tell people is Latin for "Death Warmed Over." They gave me a 5% chance of survival. On the morning of December 8th my left leg was amputated above the knee.

According to people who where there, I had 15 IV bags hooked up to me. My bandmates played our music to me. My brother came in from California to see me. I don't remember any of these things. When I awoke, I was consious that I was in a hospital bed. I don't remember being aware of missing my leg. I felt like my leg was bent at the knee going through a hole in the bed. The other thing I remember was that there was music coming from another room. It sounded like there was a "Chuck Wagon Show" going on. I thought it was entertainment for the folks in the hospital. Cheesy cowboy and western songs served with some BBQ and beans. Later on before dawn there was a family gathering of these rich people who had been traveling and they were sharing what they'd been doing since their last meeting. It was very formal and took place in an art deco living room that was also kind of '40's space age modern. When I asked the nurses about it, I couldn't understand why they knew nothing about it. But these things happened two nights in a row.

As I became more conscious, I was still hallucinating when I closed my eyes. It wasn't pleasant acid trip colors and patterns and things you could control. This was dark and scary. The earth itself became volcanic mud and evil looking beings would morph from the mud. I tried listening to music. That wasn't a good idea. The music would just trigger more. I stayed awake until I couldn't take it anymore and then collapsed into short lived sleeps that would end when the nurses came 'round to check on me. I thought it was some aspect of my consciousness that needed atoning or something. I did  lot of self-examination during this time. Some time later I found out that this was something called "surgical psychcosis" and wasn't uncommon among people who had been given the amount of chemicals I had. It was my body detoxing.

I don't remember who told me that my leg had been amputated. Maybe they told me before they did it and I somehow remembered. The nurses would change my dressing every so often and a doctor would check on me to see how it was healing. I accepted the fact that my life was going to be radically different then it had been before. All I knew was, I survived, and there must be a reason for that. For some reason the Universe still wanted me around and my mission here was unfulfilled. At least that's how I see it in the big picture. But in the short run there was another factor that got me through. It was the loving prayers, energy, good vibes, healing mojo... what ever you want to call it. Lots of people wanted to see me survive and dialed up their deity of choice and asked for some help for me. People came out of the woodwork. People I went to high school with who graduated in 1968. Friends of friends, the congregation of a church where my bass player was playing who happened to mention me to the pastor. People took the time to think of me in my hour of need and that's something I will never forget. How do you say "thank you" for that? I don't know. But that's what got me through.

It's been an interesting year to say the least. I've been learning to walk again with a prosthisis. I've gone from wheelchair, to walker, to forearm crutches, to a single cane and some steps around the house on my own. I've gained enough weight that I'm ready for a new socket since I can hardly fit into the current one. Other then an infection in March, I've been healthy. I'm on a new chemo drug that is boosting my white cell count which thrills my doctor to no end. The winter cold, ice and snow are trying, but I'm adapting to this new phase in my life. Yeah, there are days when I wish I could have my leg back. But that passes. I have songs unsung that need to be freed from my soul and manifest into the world.

So here I am a year later getting ready to celebrate the holidays and a birthday on New Year's Eve. I've made it this far. I couldn't have done it without you!

Special thanks to Poudre Valley Hospital ICU and dialysis units, Medical Center of the Rockies for patching my colon and getting me out of bed to start my physical therapy, Fresenius Medical Care especially for the day when they told me I wouldn't need dialysis anymore, Bill at Orthotic Prosthetic Solutions who is a major mentor and Ruth at Poudre Valley Rehabilitation Services who made physical therapy something I looked forward to.