My Nuts and Bolts

Two weeks ago I had a busy week, with two very looong doctor's appointments at the hospital. My mom and I were gone for 5 hours for the first appointment, and 6½ hours for the second one, just two days later. (I was originally supposed to have a third appointment that week with the optometrist, too, but my mom and I knew that we would be pooped from the first two appointments, so we rescheduled the optometrist for the following Friday for our sanity's sake!) With the exception of these two appointments being long, both went really well.

I had to get some x-rays of my neck after the appointment with my physiatrist, which is a doctor of physical medicine. I spent an hour getting all of these x-rays done, and my neck was so sore afterwards from getting stretched and turned every which way so that it could be in the right position for each x-ray. (I can't hold my head up, especially when I have to sit up at a 90° angle, so one of the guys in the x-ray department had to stretch/hold my head in the right position.) I couldn't wait to get home!

I had to get my neck stabilized after my accident, so this is what I was left with: lots of little pins and screws inserted to hold things together to give me the best chance of having as much movement as possible. These diagrams should give you an idea of where the C2 vertebra is, which is where my neck was broken in my car accident. (It's right at the base of the skull, where the skull and spine meet.)

Then at my appointment on Thursday, I had a renal ultrasound on my kidneys to check for stones. I met with my urologist afterwards, and she said that everything looked good; no new stones, and the one that I'd had two months previously was no longer visible. I don't know if it passed, or what, but it wasn't there anymore. I won't complain! I met with a nephrologist (kidney specialist) after seeing my urologist, and he said that my kidneys looked great and were functioning well. Woo-hoo! I don't have to go back to these doctors until January 2016.

The Itch You Can't Scratch

Spring is here and it's BEAUTIFUL in Missouri right now, but there is a lot of pollen flying around in the air. Those microscopic particles from the flowers and trees coat everything in a yellow film and make allergy sufferers miserable! I've never really had bad allergies or been especially sensitive to pollen, but I DO seem to be itching more lately. Spring = pollen = more itches, and saying that itches are a nuisance for someone who can't move is a major understatement!

Having an itch you can't scratch is actually pretty cruel. Pure torture! I distinctly remember lying in bed once when I was still able-bodied, thinking of poor Christopher Reeve and what it would be like to be unable to scratch an itch. I lay there with a fierce itch in my nose, and I held off scratching it until I thought I would go mad. When I couldn't take it any more, I scratched and scratched until I completely relieved myself of the itch. It is SO ironic thinking of that incident now! (This really did happen, by the way.)

There is really an art and technique to scratching an itch, and it's a lot more involved than you might think. If your nose itches, for example, you can't just have someone timidly scratch the end of your nose and have that satisfy your itch. The exact location they scratch matters, as well as HOW they scratch and the amount of pressure they use. All of this can be difficult to explain to someone, especially when you can't gesture or point to indicate how/what you want. For this reason, I ask very few people to help me scratch my itches (basically only my mom and my youngest sister, Chandra). I'm not sure what would be worse: the agony of the itch, or the frustration of trying to teach someone how to scratch the itch in a satisfying way. I choose to just suffer with the itch in order to spare myself–and others–the frustration and awkwardness of the whole thing! [I've found that making up code names/phrases for the particular areas of your face that itch frequently help give your caregivers a point of reference to know where to scratch.]

Thankfully, I only experience the sensation of itching on my face, eyes, scalp and ears, and not anywhere from the neck down. I'm not sure why I don't itch on the rest of my body since I DO feel other sensations below my neck. I won't complain, though, and neither will my caregivers. ; ) I can only take so much, after all! 

FAQs: A Day in My Life

This is a post that I've been working on for several days. Sometimes people ask me what my day-to-day life is like. I guess some people have a hard time wondering what a person who can't move does do all day. So, here is a rundown of what a typical day in my life is like:

My day starts around 6 AM when my mom comes downstairs to give me my first round of pills of the day. (I take pills five different times a day for all sorts of things like, muscle spasms, pain control, kidney function, under-active thyroid, etc.) Then I go back to bed, although I usually don't fall back to sleep. This is my thinking time when I pray, daydream and think. (This is often the time where I get ideas for new blog posts.)

My mom comes back at 8 to start our morning routine. I eat breakfast, she washes my face and things like that. Then around 9 a neighbor or friend from my church comes over to help my mom dress me, wash my hair if it's a "hair" day (Tuesday/Thursday/Saturday) and get me up in my recliner. (If I'm staying at home all day I just sit in my recliner rather than my wheelchair because it's much more comfortable. If I'm going out, then it's the wheelchair for me!)

I'm up for the day by 9:30 or so. If it's a hair wash day, then my sister Chandra spends the next hour drying and flat ironing my hair. It's quite a process, but fortunately we only do my hair three days a week! After I'm up then I get on my computer and I work on my computer  all day until three or four in the afternoon when my mom and I start our afternoon routine, which includes my bath and other personal care.

My mom and I have dinner together around five. After dinner is over I get back on my computer. I'm really good at multitasking, and I spend the evening working on my computer while simultaneously watching TV. Or sometimes I'll work on my computer while my mom reads to me. Mom usually goes to bed around 10 PM, but I keep working on my computer until my sister Chandra comes home from work (anywhere between midnight and 2 AM). I really enjoy my evenings on my computer because I get a lot done and am quite productive.

This is what my weekdays are usually like. Sometimes Chandra and I go shopping or to the movies on Saturday since she's off on the weekend. The three of us always go to church on Sunday morning and then spend the rest of the day together. I love weekends because Mom, Chandra and I have fun hanging out together.

Here's a little bit about my caregivers:

The brunt of my personal care falls on my mom, as she is my main caregiver. I don't have a staff of nurses (too expensive), so it's basically my mom, my younger sister, Chandra and two family friends from church that each come over three mornings a week to help my mom get me dressed and up for the day. Here's a little bit more about what each of these people do for me:

Mom: my mom doesn't work outside the home and she stays home with me just about all day, every day. She gets out of the house on Tuesday and Thursday mornings to run errands, take care of things or do things that she wants to do while Chandra does my hair. Mom and I get along really well and we rarely disagree. We're each other's best friends and we really enjoy being around each other. (That's fortunate since we don't have another choice!)

Chandra: is my youngest sister and still lives at home. Although she has a full-time job she still helps our mom with a lot of my care. She puts me to bed each night after she gets home from work. (She puts my computer away, bushes my teeth, adjusts me, etc.) This works out well for us. My mom usually goes to bed around 10 or 10:30 and I like to stay up late working on my computer. My mom is free to go to bed since she knows Chandra will situate me after she gets home from work. Chandra also does my hair on Tuesday and Thursday mornings since she doesn't go into work until 2 PM. Chandra is off work on the weekends, so she helps our mom with my care on the weekends, too.

Linda and Kellie: two friends from church that live close by that each come over three mornings a week to help my mom get me dressed and up for the day. It would be impossible for my mom to get me dressed and up all by herself, so we really appreciate the assistance that these friends offer.

I've been paralyzed since 2003, and one of the uneasy feelings about my situation is not knowing where Mom and I will get the help we need on a permanent basis. However, the Lord is mindful of our needs and has always provided someone to help us. Several of my sisters have lived here for short periods of time and have been able to help our mom with my care. When they've moved on there's always been someone else to take their spot, or our circumstances have changed in some way so that we're still able to get by. I'm so grateful for the Lord and that He watches over me.

My life's mission

I've been blogging since July of 2009 and I love it! At first I wasn't sure what I would write about and if anyone would read my blog or not, but it's really taken off in the past 19 months. I write about all sorts of things, both serious and funny, like my personal experiences, my thoughts about different things, current events, pop culture – pretty much anything that strikes my fancy!

One of the features on the Blogger website is the "stats" button where the author of the blog can click on it and find out how many page views their blog has had, where the traffic to their blog comes from, and things like that. As of this morning, here are how many views my blog has had (not counting my own visits to my blog), and where they've come from:
United States: 12,288
United Kingdom: 1088
Canada: 606
Netherlands: 471
Germany: 334
Australia: 213
Italy: 205
Israel: 134
Taiwan: 122
Spain: 82

Can this really be true?! On one hand it's hard for me to believe that people all over the world are reading my blog, especially in places like Israel, Taiwan, etc., but on the other hand if it's on the stats page, it's gotta be true, right? I guess I'll believe it until I find out otherwise, even though it's hard for me to wrap my mind around. I just wonder where these people in foreign countries find my blog!

Regardless of if it's true or not, I really feel like blogging is part of my life's mission. A lot of people tell me how inspiring I am, but I always cringe when I hear this because my intentions are not that I'm trying to inspire people. I'm just trying to let people know that when tragedy strikes and your life suddenly changes from what you always hoped and dreamed it would be, that it's possible to still be happy and find joy. That's all. But I guess if people want to call me inspiring, I'll take it as a high compliment and try to do my best to live up to the praise.

I don't feel like I'm doing anything noble or extreme, I just feel like I'm doing what I can to be like Jesus. I always think that if Jesus could put up with all of the things that He did and still hold His head up high, then I can certainly live my life with a smile on my face since my life isn't nearly as difficult as Jesus' was.

I pray every day that the Lord will bless me that I might be able to write in a way to touch the hearts of others.

Scars and broken bones

Before my car accident I'd never broken a bone and I hadn't had any major health problems. No stitches, surgeries or scars. When I had my accident I broke my first bone(s) – my pelvis, a few ribs and my neck. My injuries were severe, so I had my first of many surgeries, which of course resulted in scars. Some of my scars are smaller than others, but I've got some great ones!

Here's a little bit about my three favorites: I have a long, 12" scar down my abdomen (breastbone to pubic bone) from the emergency surgery that I had right after my accident. I had severe internal trauma, so they opened me up to survey the damage. They stopped the internal bleeding and removed my ruptured spleen. After that they closed me up and put me back together with 40 staples. (It looked like a zipper.) Over the years my scar has faded from purple to red to pink, but it's still there, serving as a reminder of my very first surgery.

Second are two scars on my neck that are from the surgery when my neck was stabilized. This was a very tricky surgery that took eight hours, instead of the predicted four. The surgeon first tried to get to my spine by cutting into my neck from the front. This was unsuccessful, so they had to carefully turn my body over so that the surgeon could cut into the back of my neck. The surgeon later told my mom that he'd never seen a neck that was so badly broken where the person was still alive. This was a sobering fact! The scars on my neck aren't nearly as visible as they once were, especially the one on the back of my neck since it's now covered with hair. (They had to shave the back half of my head to do the surgery.)

By far my favorite and most grizzly looking scar is on the underside of my right forearm. When I was in the emergency room right after my accident, I had several IVs and I was hooked up to all sorts of different drugs. In one of my IVs I was being given potassium, and the IV infiltrated. (This means that the IV slipped out of the vein, but the potassium was still flowing, so it pooled on the inside of my arm, resulting in a terrible burn.) My skin was basically charred from the inside out, and I had a thick, black scab of charred skin that was about 6 inches long and 2 or 3 inches wide. This thick scab had to later be cut off with surgical scissors. Remarkably, it didn't hurt at all. Although I could feel the pressure of being touched, I felt no pain. This wound was very deep (deep enough that I could see the tendons in my arm) and it took months to heal. I'm always proud to show people this scar since it has such a great story to go with it!

As much as I love my scars, they are nothing compared to the scars that my two younger sisters have. They are both burn survivors and have extensive scars covering much of their bodies. (Fortunately, their scars are mostly in places that are covered by clothing.) I love their scars since I feel it says so much about them; what they've been through and how they both survived such horrible injuries. I'm sure they both feel differently than I do about having scars, but I really admire them both.

If I were…

– a color, I would be green (seafoam, specifically)
– a shape, I would be a star (I love stars!)
– a food, I would be chocolate, or maybe a sub sandwich, or maybe Chinese food, but probably chocolate!
– an animal, I would be a giraffe or an elephant (both are so unique)
– a bird, I would be a hummingbird (so delicate!) – a breed of dog, I would be a Westie (the Cesar dog! If you know me then you know that I don't like dogs, or pets in general, for that matter. However, if I ever were to have a dog, then this is what I would pick.)

How close is too close?

I saw a segment on The Early Show this morning called "How Close Is Too Close?" that I really appreciated. It was about boundaries and people invading your personal space. The truth is, sometimes people unknowingly invade the space of others... we've probably all done it at some time or another.

This is something that is especially important to me since my accident. Sometimes when people talk to me they definitely invade my personal space! Of course it's unintentional, but it's annoying, nonetheless! Normally people can take a step back to distance themselves from the other person when their space is being invaded, but I can't. When someone is talking too close to my face I can't do anything about it except suffer in silence! I think that anything less than two feet is much too close, unless we're very close friends who are exchanging secrets with each other!

While I'm on the same topic, I want to share another one of my pet peeves. Now that I'm in a wheelchair I feel like people who don't know me at all or don't know me very well often talk down to me and treat me like my brain must be handicapped since I'm in a wheelchair! Let me assure you that just because someone is in a wheelchair does not necessarily mean that they are mentally impaired. Sometimes when I'm out in public people talk to my mom instead of me and will say something like, "Does she want this, or does she want that?" instead of asking me directly.

Another thing that bothers me is when people bend over at the waist when they talk to me. Crouching down all the way to the ground is okay, but I don't like it when they bend over at the waist because it always makes me feel like they think I'm a child. Hopefully I'm not sounding mean as I vent about my pet peeves, but since I've been confronted with the same things for the past seven years and will most likely continue to be confronted with the same things for the rest of my life, I can't help but share my feelings!

I know that people aren't meaning to be rude or condescending, but it often feels this way. However, people are usually very nice and sweet for the most part. I imagine that I would probably be unsure of how to approach someone in a wheelchair if I didn't know them, so I definitely don't begrudge people acting the way they do, even if it is occasionally annoying!

When you meet me

I like meeting new people, but I always wonder what people think of me when they see that I'm in a wheelchair. I wonder if they think that I've always been disabled, or if I have some kind of disease or if I were in an accident, etc. A lot of times when new people meet me, they extend their arm in attempts to shake hands. This always makes for an uncomfortable few moments while I either wait for the person to put their arm down or I tell them I can't shake. (I think it's probably more uncomfortable for the other person than it is for myself, but either way it's an awkward situation.)

I think my situation makes me appear pretty intimidating to others because most strangers don't approach me on their own. They usually wait for me to introduce myself first (which I rarely do because I'm shy) or they wait for someone else that already knows me to do the introducing. I prefer to have people come to me since I can't go to them, but sometimes I have to improvise. Just for the record, I am approachable, even if my wheelchair makes me appear intimidating. I think most handicapped people feel the same way, so don't be afraid to strike up a conversation with someone who's disabled!

Shopaholic

In the past two months I've spent $850 on new clothes at Old Navy. Hear me out before you raise your eyebrows! I like to do a lot of my shopping online because it's a lot easier to buy things while sitting in my recliner then it is to go to the actual store. There are no tight corners to maneuver my wheelchair around and no large racks of clothing impeding my path. I can see all of my options just by saying, "mouse click."

As I've already written, I've spent hundreds of dollars shopping at Old Navy in recent weeks. The reason these online shopping excursions have been so expensive is because I usually buy two sizes in everything I buy so that I have a better chance of getting something that fits. Ultimately, a significant portion of what I buy ends up getting returned to the store.

Regardless if I shop online or in an actual store, I always spend a lot of money due to the fact that I can't try anything on until I'm at home and in my bed. Since I'm in a wheelchair and unable to get out of it at the store (in addition to the fact that other people have to dress me) it just makes sense to buy a lot and then return it after I've tried it on at home.

When all is said and done, my tab of $850 won't end up being near as much! Thank goodness for computers, the internet and online shopping!

All Breaks Are Not Created Equal

I've always been under the impression that if you break your neck/back then you're doomed to be paralyzed. Not so! I'm often amazed at how many people break their necks or their backs, and they literally walk away from the accident unscathed. Or, sometimes people damage their spinal cords and they might be paralyzed for a short while, but then are able to regain most if not all of their movement after only a few short months of rehab. Truly, I've heard many stories about people who to damage their spinal cords and don't become paralyzed. The extent of the damage definitely depends on a case-by-case basis.

When you damage your spinal cord you'll most likely become a quadriplegic or a paraplegic depending on where the damage occurs. If someone breaks their neck at one of the top vertebrae on the spinal column (like me) they're going to have a lot less mobility than someone whose break occurs at a vertebrae further down on the neck where they're going to have a lot more mobility. I know that this is kind of confusing for someone who isn't familiar with spinal cord injuries to understand, so to clarify, you're considered a quadriplegic if you don't have full dexterity of your fingers. You might be a quadriplegic who's paralyzed from the neck down, or you might be a quadriplegic who has full use of your arms, just not the ability to straighten their fingers out. Regardless of whether you're the former, the latter or somewhere in between, you're considered a quadriplegic unless you can straighten your fingers. (There's just a big difference in the abilities of quadriplegics.) How'd I do? Does that make sense?

Next to godliness

Call me crazy, but one thing (among many) that I really miss being able to do is clean! I used to love doing chores. I'm not sure why, or how this hobby of mine got started, but I found cleaning so fulfilling (and fun)!

One year when I was 12 or 13 I even asked my parents for a magna duster for Christmas. I told them I would dust everyday if I had my very own magna duster! I did get one, and I did dust everyday... for a while, at least! I was so taken with magna dusters after seeing the magna duster infomercial so many times. I wanted my very own so that I could rid the house of dust just like they did in the infomercial.

I've always been a clean and tidy person, and I know if I had my own house it would always be relatively clean and orderly, because I can't stand the chaos that messiness brings! I wish my youngest sister would learn this because she's so messy! It drives my mom and me nuts!

One year later

It's hard to believe, but I've been blogging for a year already! I signed up for blogger on July 31, 2009, and I made my first official post on August 3. I actually kept my blog to myself for the first month because I couldn't believe I was actually doing it! I slowly started letting people know about it, and things just went from there.

It's now one year later, and I've made about 160 posts. I've written about a wide variety of things, some more serious than others, so that I can let people know who I am and how I've gotten to be where I am in my life. Sometimes I worry that people might think I sound really dumb, but I do my best to write well. I've enjoyed blogging much more than I ever thought I would, and that just makes me wonder what sorts of other things I'll do in the future that I never anticipated either liking or doing.

I've been copying and pasting each post to a Word document all year, and now I'm going to upload the document to the FedEx store so that they can print it out (pictures and all), bind it and send it to me. It's going to be pretty expensive, but any expense will be worth it to me so that I can have a hardcover copy of all my posts through the past year. This is just another way to help me document my life, which is something that I'm very passionate about.

The Evidence

Over the past year I've written a lot of blog posts about the car accident that changed my life. I thought people might be interested in seeing a few pictures of my car after the accident. I can't exactly remember why, but my mom asked one of our family friends to go to the impound lot to take a few pictures of my car the day after the accident. I'm so glad that she did, because these pictures are priceless to me. I still have so many unanswered questions about everything that happened in my accident since I don't remember anything about it. I love that these pictures give me a glimpse into what happened and the extent of the damage.

Here are a few pictures:
In the picture above you can see just how smashed the car was on the driver's side. I try to imagine my body sitting in the driver's seat and what must've happened to it when I was hit. The thing I like most about these pictures is that I can show them to people and say, "I survived this!"

My car might not have been mauled as severely as some, but I still find the pictures sobering to look at. It truly is miraculous that I survived.

10 years ago

I can't help but do a little more talking about movie theaters because I love them so much!

When I was at the movies with my friend Lacee yesterday, feelings of déjà vu struck me as soon as I rolled through the doors and smelled the popcorn. It was 10 years ago that I started working at that very theater. Although different movies are showing and a new crop of employees are working, the feelings I get from being there are exactly the same. I could just picture myself being the one selling popcorn behind the concession stand, or cleaning up after the movie or selling tickets in the box office.

I truly loved that job and the experiences I had there. I have such fond memories of my 3 1/2 years at the movie theater and it's always good to be back. Although, I haven't always felt this way. After my accident it took me several years before I had the desire to go out in public, and even longer to have the desire to go back to my old theater. I'm glad I've gotten over those feelings because it's fun to go back, and I enjoy taking my friends who didn't know me before my accident there so that they can have a glimpse of what my working life was like.

Here are a few pictures from my theater days. The second picture isn't very good, but I wanted to include it anyway. (My friend Lacee that I wrote about in this post worked with me at the movie theater and we are shown in the third picture.) e

Don't you give up!

This is a link to a very inspiring five minute video clip about the trials we face in life. I found the sentiment in this video especially comforting. The clip references the trials and challenges we face in life, and how long and difficult the road that is life can seem. "There is help and happiness ahead. Some blessings come soon, some come late and some don't come until heaven. But for those who embrace the gospel of Jesus Christ they come. It will be all right in the end -- trust God and belief in good things to come."

Turning 26!

I celebrated my 26th birthday this past Saturday. Each birthday I'm always amazed at how old I'm getting! I feel younger than the number I am because I don't feel like I've accomplished as much as a normal 26-year-old should've accomplished. For example, I'm not married, I don't have any children, I don't have a college degree, I don't have a job, etc. I often wonder what my life would be like if I hadn't had my accident and I weren't paralyzed. Would I be married yet? If so, who would I be married to, and what would he be like? Would I be a mom? It's a lot to think about, although these thoughts would purely be speculations, of course. I guess I have my own specialized list of accomplishments, though, like being a happy, healthy disabled person.

Anyway... I celebrated my birthday with a get-together on Friday, June 11, when my sister Kristin was in town. It was Kristin's birthday (our birthdays are only eight days apart), so it was great to be able to celebrate our birthdays together. (She turned 29 and I turned 26.) I invited five of my friends, and I had lots of my family (Annette and Joseph, Kristin and Scott, Laura and Brett, plus Mom and Chandra) around to help me make celebrate. It's rare for me to have so much of my family around since we all live so far apart -- it was a special treat!

Kristin is an amazing cook and she made some delicious party foods: glazed cheese croissants, basil cream cheese bruschetta and coconut cream fruit dip to have with fresh pineapple, strawberries and grapes. Kristin also made a birthday cake for the two of us. She let me pick what cake I wanted, and it was a difficult choice! I settled on a chocolate cake with chocolate butter cream frosting and chocolate ganache. It was amazing! I was very fortunate to have Kristin, my sister, my friend and our chef for the evening to celebrate my birthday with me!

Everyone had a great time talking and visiting while we ate. After we ate we played a game called Werewolves of Millers Hollow -- a game that Kristin gave me last Christmas, but one that I hadn't been able to play yet since it takes quite a few people to play. (It's a game that is similar to Mafia, if you've heard of that. -- I never had.) It was a lot of fun and we all had a great evening! Here are some of my favorite pictures from that night:

Kristin and me and our lovely cake:

Kristin and me: Nate and me: Kristin and Scott:
Kristin and Chandra: Visiting and Playing: It was a fun evening and great mouse birthday celebration!

The timetable of trials

I was recently talking to a friend about the trials and challenges we face in life. I told my friend that I think it's easier to endure and get through a trial if you know how long you're going to be tested. For example, I told my friend that I know that I'm in it for the long-haul when it comes to my physical trial of being paralyzed. I know that I'm going to be paralyzed (and all that it entails) for the rest of my life. This trial won't end until the day I die. This may sound pessimistic, but I'm only being realistic.

My friend thought it was interesting that I find it helpful to know how long a particular trial is going to last. Personally, if I know a trial is going to be lifelong, or if a trial is going to last X number of months/years, it helps me manage my load.

Earthly life is so long and yet so short at the same time. It's truly going to be over in the blink of an eye. However, this doesn't seem like much of a consolation when we are in the midst of a trial, and the road seems especially long. However, what makes life easier to bear is knowing that something incredible is waiting for me just around the corner. This isn't just a hope -- I know it is. That's why "keep your eye on the prize" is my personal mantra.

Purple feet

Sometimes when I wear flip-flops or shoes that show my feet people will notice that my feet have a slightly purpleish hue, and they'll say something like, "Oh, your feet must be so cold!" No, they aren't cold, thank you very much! I just have poor circulation, partly due to my spinal cord injury and partly due to the fact that I'm always in a sitting position and I'm not up walking around, so the blood tends to pool in my feet. I know that people are only concerned for me, but I can't help but feel slightly irritated when people worry about my "cold feet." When people ask me if my feet are all right I liken it to asking a pregnant woman if she's carrying twins because she's so large.

So yes, my feet may appear slightly purple, but I assure you they are just fine!

Not again!!

Last Monday started out like an ordinary day. It was a new day, a new week and a new month. I was excited to get up in my recliner so that I could get to work on my computer. I had several emails to catch up on, and I also wanted to update my personal journal as well as make a new blog post. Once I got up in my recliner, however, I noticed a dull ache in my lower back on the left side. I wasn't sure what was causing the pain, but I thought maybe some of my clothing was too tight or something like that. The pain got worse and worse as the day progressed, and I didn't feel like doing much of anything, which is highly unusual for me because I like spending all day on my computer.

As the pain increased, I also began feeling like I couldn't draw a deep enough breath. I'm not able to breathe on my own, but I've been on a diaphragm breathing stimulator for the past three years, and this has enabled me to stay off of a mechanical ventilator. As the day progressed, I began feeling more and more sleepy, and I knew that I was starting to repeat myself and say things that didn't really make sense. My mom said that she thought she should take me to the emergency room, and I agreed. I hate going to the hospital, but I could tell that something was wrong with me, although I wasn't sure what it was. My mom started getting things together and she called my younger sister Chandra at work and asked her if she could come home a couple of hours early.

When Chandra arrived home about 30 minutes later I was all ready to go. It was about 3 pm, and my mom and sister Chandra took me to the emergency room at St. Anthony's Hospital and we got checked in. The emergency room was absolutely packed, especially with lots of people carrying around barf basins! I waited in the waiting room for more than three hours, and the infection that was festering inside my body started taking over. I was trying so hard to mentally stay with it, but then I got to a point where I was so sick that I just had to mentally give in to the infection. I kept asking the same questions over and over again. I wasn't aware that I was doing this because I couldn't remember if I'd actually asked the question, or if I'd just thought it in my head.

Here's another example of how downhill I was going. I was drinking a milkshake since it had been about nine hours since I'd eaten anything. I was able to suck the milkshake up through the straw, but then I would actually fall asleep before I could swallow it, and it would run out of my mouth onto my shirt. That's how sick I was, I couldn't even swallow my milkshake! My mom knew that I was having a definite change in mental status, so she went to the front desk and told the receptionist that I was starting to act the way that I've acted in the past when I've been septic. (That's when an infection gets into your bloodstream, and if you aren't treated quickly it can be a life or death situation.) When my vital signs were retaken it was clear just how much I had deteriorated in the three hours that I'd been waiting. It was clear that I was seriously sick and they got me in to the next available room.

By this time I was so delirious that I don't remember much of anything. My blood pressure had plummeted dangerously low, something like 50/30. I'm not sure when the doctors found out that a kidney stone was what was causing me to be so sick, but when I heard those two horrible words, "kidney stones," I knew that things were not good. A kidney stone had entered my left ureter, so my left kidney wasn't draining at all. Ever since I've been paralyzed (6+ years) I've had reoccurring problems with kidney stones since my kidneys don't drain as efficiently anymore since I can't stand up.

To help make this long story shorter, I'll just try to talk about the most relevant things that happened last Monday. When they found out that my left kidney wasn't draining, I had to have a procedure to drain the kidney. I'm not sure what time of night it was when they took me away to get this procedure done, but I was put on an operating table and I was turned onto my right side so that the doctor had access to my left kidney.

Because my blood pressure was so low it was too dangerous to use anesthesia, so I was put under conscious sedation. Conscious sedation is basically where you're given a little something to make you foggy and fuzzy, but you're not unconscious. I cannot express how badly the procedure hurt! The doctor put a nephrostomy tube in my back, and the best way to describe what was done is that they drilled through my back to get to my kidney. Then a tube was inserted into my kidney to drain everything out of it. Then they secured the tube in my kidney with a few sutures, and now I will have this drain in my back until after I have surgery in a few weeks.

Since I was conscious during the procedure, I felt everything! I can't put into words how painful this procedure was -- I've never been through anything more physically painful than this procedure. I kept saying "ow" and "that hurts" but all they would say to me is, "I know it hurts." I was so relieved when it was over!

I was still delirious after my procedure, and when I finally woke up I was in the ICU. I don't remember this, but my mom said that I kept calling her name over and over again. I didn't know I was calling her over and over again, but when I woke up I couldn't see her and I didn't know where she was. Actually, I woke up burning hot, horribly parched and very confused. I knew that I was at the hospital, but I didn't know where in the hospital and I didn't know how much time had passed, if it were night or day, etc.

When I was coherent enough to form logical thoughts and questions again, I couldn't believe that I was having more kidney stone related problems. I'd just been to my urologist three months previously, and he said that although I had a few small stones in each kidney, they hadn't gotten any bigger and no new stones had formed. So although I shouldn't have been surprised that I had more kidney stones, I actually was surprised. I remember thinking, "No, not again!!"

I was feeling better and more like myself on Tuesday morning and I started to ask, "When can I go home?" Sadly, it wasn't this easy and I resigned myself that I would have to be in the hospital for several days.

I didn't bounce back as quickly as I have in the past, and this was very frustrating. I was put on a ventilator because I wasn't getting enough air from just being on my diaphragm stimulator like I usually am. Every time I tried to get off of the ventilator and just use my diaphragm stimulator, I started feeling like I wasn't getting enough oxygen to my brain, and a horrible headache ensued. For the next four days I tried turning off the ventilator and tried breathing with my diaphragm stimulator, but every time I tried I just couldn't do it and this was so frustrating because I knew I had to be off of the ventilator permanently before I could even think about going home. I've gone through the same thing in the past, and it was no problem to get off the ventilator, so I didn't know what was different this time. Thankfully on Saturday afternoon I turned a corner and I was finally able to be off of the ventilator without feeling like I wasn't getting enough air. Finally!! (The reason it was so hard for me to get off of the ventilator was because the infection was so strong and my body had gotten so weak.)

On Monday morning when my pulmonologist made his rounds I told him that I was ready to go home and he actually agreed. Now I just needed to get all of my other doctors on board, which wasn't too difficult to do. The hospital is the absolute worst place a patient can be when they are trying to recover since there is such a high risk of acquiring a secondary infection because of all the germs in the hospital.

So here I am. It's Wednesday afternoon and I've been home for almost two days. I have to be on IV antibiotics for two more weeks to make sure the infection is completely gone. Once the infection is cleared up I will have surgery to remove all of the kidney stones from my kidneys. That surgery will take place in about two or three weeks. I'm really not looking forward to the thought of having another surgery and hospital stay, but at least the kidney stones will be taken care of. It's too bad that it's not a one step fix! Unfortunately, kidney stones and other urological related problems are going to be an inevitable recurring thing for me to deal with since I have a spinal cord injury.

This post kind of tells the story of what happened last week. In another post this week I'll write about some of my feelings about being in the hospital and what it's like to be a patient. I'm so glad to be feeling better and most importantly, I'm glad to be home!