A few of you asked, either by email, text or actual conversation, if I “saw the light” during the time when I was being given CPR (four times, cracking a couple ribs and my sternum) or even angels. I saw neither and for the first six days in ICU was in and out of awareness. However, I do recall having so vivid of dreams they would rival LSD trips from the ’60s, and of having thoughts of many friends I might never see again.
I bounced between sedation and reality, and in between, images of eternity trying to squash both. When conscious, my blurry eyes followed every movement (according to my gal) of the nurses and doctors. Filled with life-saving drugs, not able to talk, when dreaming, it could be of liquid plastic castles surrounding Los Angeles Department of Water and Power (LADWP) vehicles and turning them into water to fill a previously dry lake bed. Or, it could have been, an ice-covered bowling ball rolling down a rainbow colored lane to crash into pins dripping in blood.
Awake, but not able to speak, I thought of my friends in restaurants, bars, at work, and churches of my town and prayed I would be able to converse and share laughs with them again. After surviving ICU and moving to a regular room, with my gal and my son arriving with handfuls of cards and well wishes via email, I discovered just how many of you cared. Be assured they lifted my spirits and were an inspiration and a reason for my survival.
I also thought of two wonderful nurses in the office of the oft-mentioned Dr. Chambers. The duo would be compassionate Patsy and caring Carmen. With a combined 35 years of experience they have been wonderful in their efforts to see I get the best of care. In return, I have made them smile, laugh and even cry. Not sure it’s a fair trade, but I’m very grateful...