I will start with Jan. 2016. I allowed a stent to be put in my thigh. Evidently, when i was hit
by the car in 1999, it damaged my leg arteries and they started occluding. My right leg was 85% occluded and the left was 45%. I had noticed for several years the veins in my feet were not visible, i thought it was from gaining weight. I have to admit, after being held hostage in topeka and dropping out of college i gave up. I went back to binge eating.
The stent procedure seemed to take longer than it should. There was a lot of hustle and bustle in the operating room. When they pulled the cath out of my leg i felt such intense pain. He told me that’s blood flow baby. I went home and within three days i knew something was not right. I went to the emergency room a couple days later, then back to the surgeon’s partner. He gave me pain pills and said i don’t know. I called and told them it was getting real bad. The woman who answered the phone, asked if i was even a patient. She came back on the phone and told me to come back at my regularly schedule appointment, about a week later. I screamed and had intermittent fevers for days. My care coordinator came by and asked if i wanted to go to the hospital, and i parroted back to her what the woman on the phone had said.
The day of my appointment finally arrived. It took my husband and i a long time to figure out how to get me out of the bed into a power wheelchair, at that point i was helpless. When i rolled into the dr’s office i stated well i don’t think you can deny anything is wrong now. My calf was purple and was as large as my thigh. I was then taken to the hospital. I was laying on the operating table, looking up as the surgeon was looking down at me, with this horror stricken look on his face, “we will get this fixed”. I look back and wish i would have said blood flow eye baby.
My calf was amputated. I did keep my leg. The doctor who did that surgery said the only reason i got to keep my leg was i good capillaries. I always tried to walk and not give up totally. Dec 2015 is when i found out about the arteries, and the next month walked a lot. If i had known the truth I would have worked harder. But when i was hit by the car i made myself worse by trying to work through the pain.
When the doctors at the hospital were ready to release me to the next level of care, i insisted i go home. The first four days i was quaking wondering if i had made the wrong choice. Oh let me go back, to the day of the surgery. After they amputated my calf, i was moved to icu. I was taken care of by a man and a woman. For a long time the woman kept trying to get me to sign a do not resuscitate order. She would whisper in my ear, I know you, you do not want to live this way. If you get worse you do not want to be hooked up to a machine. She kept on and on, until I finally said today is not my day to die fuck off.
After I was home for awhile and was thinking about all this I wondered who wanted me dead so bad, the dr who put a hole in my artery, the one who thought i knew their names, from the rituals when i was a child? Had I again been cursed? Well that is another chapter?
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