Grateful

On Saturday 6 August I worked on my car (inside). Because I had to work under the dash, I lay across the two front seats briefly lying on the handbrake. It pushed on my side causing discomfort, so I lowered the hand brake. That evening I had an uncomfortable sleep, feeling pain where the handbrake was. I didn’t think too much of it.  On Sunday I had a normal day, had my Dad and Ma over for lunch and I even braaied. That evening my sleep was a bit more uncomfortable. I didn’t want to mention anything because I probably just bruised myself. On Monday I drove around and even went to my installation site briefly.

Monday night I hardly slept. Breathing was painful and coughing even more. When I sat up straight in bed at 4 am my babes knew something was wrong. And when I told her that it felt like my ribs were piercing my lung, she said “we’re going to the hospital!” At 7 am we were at Morningside Mediclinic. As we pulled into the facility I showed her where to park and she said “no” and drove straight to the casualty (ER). As we arrive there I was about to get out of the car and she says “no”. She called one of the staff to bring a wheelchair. How embarrassing! Well, I was taken straight in with no queue.

The casualty doctor came to see me. As I explained my “complaint” to her she had this “that doesn’t make sense” look on her face. She sent me for X-rays and had blood drawn for testing. Obviously, there was a wait. When my X-ray results arrived the doctor said that she was seeing something out of the ordinary and that I shouldn’t panic but she wants me to go for a CT scan. All the time I’m thinking “how am I going to pay for this?” At this point, it was more of an inconvenience and “unnecessary expense”. Well, the results came back an hour and a bit later. The doctor told me that the scan confirms what she saw…I have a pulmonary embolism, clots in my lungs. They don’t know how yet, but they have to admit me into the hospital. Apparently, I went pale.

I had never spent time myself in hospital, but it’s fine. I’ll go to a ward they’ll give me medication and I’ll go home tomorrow. I have a flight to catch on Thursday. They wheeled me to the ward on my bed. All I see is a “moving ceiling”. Finally, I get to where I was to be treated and someone says “welcome to ICU. “What!” What am I doing in ICU? That’s for sick people. Well, apparently I am sick. And as for your flight, cancel that. In fact, that flight could have been disastrous had I not come in. I was told that had I flown I could have had a stroke….or worse.

So my journey in the hospital begins. My children arrived as well as my granddaughter. I hated seeing the pain on their faces as I lay there with wires plugged into my chest, a blood pressure band permanently on my arm, and later oxygen pipes in my nose. Machines were beeping, etc. my princess just started crying. My babes went outside to cry. My girlie kept a strong face till she got home. Later that evening one of my pastors and friend, Alan, came and prayed with me and served communion. That evening I was awoken three times by the machine monitoring me when red lights were flashing and a siren going. My heart beat was on 37. I subsequently found out that that is not good. I know, amateur, right!?

Suddenly things that I was experiencing over the last two months made sense. Being out of breath after making the bed, or after walking up the stairs to our bedroom. These blood clots were inhibiting my breathing and I didn’t know it. Time to break them down. On top of it all, there’s a foreign spot about 1” in my right lung. So a sample had to be extracted for testing. Getting this sample had its own set of risks. Obviously, the question was how did this happen? After multiple tests and scans of other parts of my body, it was concluded that this was a result of the Covid that I had in May. They started injecting me with blood thinners or anti-blood clots as they called it.

Fast forward a week later and I’m getting ready to go home…the one on earth, that is 🙂. I am on medication to break down the clots, I believe multiple small ones, besides the few big ones. I have to do nothing for the next two weeks. That in itself is going to be difficult. Thereafter I am really going to have to watch myself. No lifting etc for a while. I am grateful to be alive, if only for my loved ones. This week I appreciate the support that I received. The hospital staff was great, and the food was better than I expected, although the coffee was terrible. They did try though. They left a bowl of Jacobs coffee (instant) at my bedside, so they would just bring me hot water and a cup when needed.

I’m not writing this for anyone to feel sorry for me, but rather to rejoice with me for the privilege to be alive, especially when I look at what could have been. Thank you, Lord!