Back in early June I decided it was time to get the ball rolling to get my gallbladder out. It’s been an issue for years, and I decided I was done ignoring it.
After a few doc’s appointments and an ultrasound it was determined that yes, my gallbladder and I were soon to be divorced. An appointment was made with a surgeon to get the date set. The doc said if I get a fever I should just go to the ER because my GB was infected.
Fast forward a few days to June 19 and I have a fever. 102.6. Mrs. Boost says to saddle up, she’s taking me to the ER. The ER doc says she’ll take it out that night, or early the next morning, just depends on the surgeon’s schedule. My wife tells the nurse that we may have been exposed to COVID a few days earlier. Yes, we went to a grad party 5 days before. One of the guests had been sick for days, fever, weakness, no smell, all the COVID symptoms. She didn’t self-test. She and her mom decided it would be ok for her to go to a party with 100 people of all ages.
You can see where I’m going here. I (and at least 4 others) tested positive for ‘rona. They said they won’t intubate with any sort of respiratory issue and admitted me to the hospital for IV anti-biotics to knock the infection down so I could wait until I was fully recovered to get the GB out.
Surgery was scheduled for a few weeks later. The COVID turned into pneumonia for me. 6 weeks of that, missed my 2nd surgery date. Rescheduled for about 4 weeks later. The pneumonia was a long, slow recovery. I did feel better a week before my 3rd surgery date, (August 28th) so we went ahead with it.
My ‘routine out-patient’ surgery wasn’t so routine, and wasn’t out-patient lol. My surgery was at 7:30 am. 30-45 minute procedure, they watch you come out of anesthesia, then observe you for another hour or so. I figured I’d be home around noon or so. Nope. I wasn’t coming out of the anesthesia. I would rouse, but just fall right back to sleep. At 4:30 they determined I wasn’t safe to go home (fall risk, I 100% agree) so they admitted me.
The next morning the surgeon comes in my room and asks why I’m there. My wife says “did you not read the chart” and the surgeon just assumes I’m in there because of the pain. I tell her more than once I’m good with the pain, but I was admitted due to fall-risk and explain the situation. She hears none of it. She’s just a condescending jerk that belittles me because she thinks I’m in there because of the pain.
She orders me to be discharged pretty much right away. That’s fine. I don’t need to be there now anyway.
I get home late morning and am groggy and starting to have a hard time breathing. A few hours later my wife takes me to urgent care because I’m losing color, am struggling to breathe, and lethargic. At the ER they tell us that both of my lungs are collapsed, and yup, back to the hospital.
Over the next few days the docs do chest x-rays, then a CAT scan to see what’s going on with my lungs. The day after the CAT scan the doc comes in to assure me the pneumonia is gone, so that’s great news. Then he says “sometimes we go in looking for something and don’t find it. But we sometimes find something else instead. We found a large mass in your lungs, basically the area that connects your lungs, the brachea to put it simply.” It’s nothing that’s keeping you here. Follow up with your doc, they’ll order a PET scan……” and goes on to explain a PET scan. I already know the C word is my next possible issue.
A 5-6 day stint in the ER and I’m good enough to go home but have a long 2 weeks or so of building my breathing back up. I have the PET scan and an ECHO of the heart. The tumor is not cancer, thank god. Now we just need to follow up with a thoracic doc to figure out what the heck it is, and if there are any next steps.
I’m back to 100% to others (by observation) but probably 85% in reality. I took a walk around the block last night with my wife and a normal walk felt like a hard jog/light run to my lungs. House and car projects are stacking up. I’m paying a lawn service to cut my grass and a pool service for my mom’s pool. I feel very useless right now, but it’s better than feeling very dead.
Now, if that weren’t enough, my wife and I are still dealing with my mom’s dementia and taking care of her and my two mentally-disabled sisters. Oh, and in the final stages of a lawsuit with our insurance company over the damage to my house and property after hurricane Ian.
Not looking for pity, just figured it’d be a good thing to just put all this down on pixel paper. It does feel good. I feel a little less weight on my shoulders.
TLDR: the Dodge Rampage is the only ‘ute worth having, and only if it has a GLH or SRT-4 powertrain in it.
