Our Trip of a Lifetime

Written on 9-29-19.

     I’ve escaped death two times now.  First with my brain surgery back in 2011, and now with a stroke on September 8th.   Wow, am I a blessed man.  What a miracle.  What a trip.  

     We had just finished up a long podcast with 12 episodes when it happened.  We were driving into Sterling and Belinda, who was driving thankfully, said something like, “This has been the trip of a lifetime, hasn’t it?”

     Then she waited for confirmation, but she never got it.  Or, she got it two weeks later when I had recovered enough to answer her.  Yes, it had been the trip of a lifetime…especially after this. 

     I remember trying to figure out the podcast still.  I know this.  This is silly.  My feeling at that moment was that of incredulousness.  This is so simple to operate, isn’t it?  I know how to operate the podcasts, but I couldn’t solve this puzzle.  Then I heard B’s questions.  “What’s wrong?  Are you okay?  Can you answer me?”

     I’m fine.  Yes.  Sure, just give me a minute.  

     But I wasn’t fine.  I certainly was not okay.  I couldn’t answer her at all.

     I could hear the panic in her voice.  It escalated.  She asked me to step out of the truck.  I could do that.  When I got out, she came around to meet me face to face.  To look into my eyes.  Later, she told me my eyes looked dead.  No warmth.  No spark.  That’s when I could see the panic in her eyes, and not just hear it in her voice.  I was afraid.   

     I kept thinking I am fine. I just need to find out what’s wrong with me.  I can find the solution to this problem, but not here.  I need to go somewhere to find it?  I started to turn around and walk off, but B insisted I get back into the truck, so I listened.  I could do that.  I could get back into the truck.

     But, I was trapped in my mind, my body.  It was a frustrating and helpless feeling.  My entire body had become mute.  I could think of the words to say (barely), but I could not form the words.  She asked me to write something when we got back into the truck, but all I could manage were three numbers, 344.  I was in trouble, but Belinda saved me.   

     She called 911, and that started everything that happened from that moment forward…all the way up to today.  B knocked on the door on the back of the ambulance vehicle to say goodbye…possibly for the last time.  They told her, “Ma’am, we have to go!”  

     After that, it was a series of events. Ambulance ride.  Stay at the Sterling hospital.  Consult with some lady doctor/expert from Denver via video conference.  I couldn’t answer simple questions like how old am I, what’s my name, and when was I born.  Yes, I was having a stroke!  Clot busting drug administered in the first two hours.  Second ambulance ride to Greeley.  No flight for life due to storms on that day.  Multiple visits from friends and family.  I am loved.  One night in ICU. Another night out of ICU.  Checked out of the hospital.  Two days and nights spent recovering at Mom and Dad’s.  Road trip home, and then finally an appointment with my PCP, Dr. Lavengood to begin to figure out what happened.  That’s where we are now, trying to figure out what happened.