Six Months Since Back Infection

Today is a landmark anniversary for me.  This is the six-month anniversary of my ambulance ride to the hospital – possibly the worst day of my life.  My lower back was so infected and painful, that I was totally immobilized – it took me three hours to roll over on the couch enough to reach into my pocket for my cell phone to call Maddie and let her know what was going on.  My kid was awesome; I am amazed and delighted by the way she kept her cool when she got there; working through who we needed to notify, what furniture we would need to move around for the paramedics to get me out of the house, and making sure Jazzmine was taken care of.  

The next six weeks are a blur of hospitals, skilled nursing facilities, and a diet rich in opioids – which I hate, but absolutely needed.  I didn’t set foot into my house again for three weeks; and when I did, it was only with the help of a walker.  

What I remember clearly, even through the drugs, is the kindness: Paul and Jendy showing up in the emergency room to stay with me as the doctors tried to figure out what the hell was wrong; Pam visiting me, and being my advocate – drawing on knowledge she has earned through too much past experience; Andras and Adrianne lending me a room in their home for as long as I would need it, so I wouldn’t have to climb stairs; and Maddie, who—along with Cindy—visited me, and took care of things to make sure my house didn’t fall into its foundation while I was away; and the people who dropped by to cheer me up when I was stuck in facilities where cheer is in short supply.  

I didn’t post much about this on Facebook at the time (and, aside from this note, probably won’t again).  I was feeling so sorry for myself, that I don’t think I could have faced the sympathetic response.  

I’m not 100% back, but as long as I take precautions, do my stretches, and don’t short myself on ibuprofen, I can do much of what I could before.  I am is very, very lucky – lucky that this was something that can get better, and lucky that my kid was nearby, and able to help.  But mostly I am lucky for the love and support that surrounded me when I needed it.  I probe my memory for some of the sincere oaths regarding all the ways I would become a better person, if only I could get better – but somehow, I can’t recall most of them. 

 But I will not forget the kindness.