After spending a very eventful Friday in the Intensive Care Unit I find myself musing on January, the month that is down right tricky. For some reason on a month which should be great for many ways I seem to attract hospital visits like vultures to a carcass. Instead of mere Emergency Room visits or surgeries I end up going to the extreme. Friday being the prime example. Okay so my surgery was not something precisely routine. Still having had several laparascopic surgeries I am no stranger to it. Evidently nor am I now to the ICU.
What I know is this: I went in for a day surgery and woke up the next day in the ICU. What I am told is this: I went into a seizure in the recovery room. Every one went a little crazy while I got drugged up to my eyeballs to prevent another one. I do know a lot more now about the situation but everyone is so traumatized I am trying to just do what they are doing. Putting it behind them because hearing your daughter may have to be intabated is just a little to scary to deal with.
Funny how what we remember so little of can have affected the lives of other people so much. Maybe its the cold or just the grey skies but it makes me like January a little bit less each year.
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