On July 22, 2021, I was taken to the hospital with the inability to walk, I had endured another Gran Mal seizure, and my vitals were unstable and they could not stabilize them at the local hospital. While awaiting a bed in an ICU at any hospital in central California, I continued to have seizure after seizure. When they found a bed in an ICU at another small hospital and stabilized be enough to be flown out they took the chance. I was flown out within an 18 hour window. Believe me during Covid that wasn’t easy to find a bed anywhere so I got extremely lucky. I was put into ICU and they detoxed me for 2 weeks and in that time had still not regained the use of my legs. Even without my mobility I attempted to fight back, (kicking, hitting, biting, ripping out IV after IV, they barely could even get my vitals, I continued to have Gran Mal seizures, I was hallucinating, screaming curse words, they even tied me down three times, I also called the cops on the hospital 3 times)! When they finally found a bed for me at another ICU at a much larger hospital I spent three days there. I completely refused any drugs because I recovered from using pain pills, Xanax, and Cocaine.
They then moved me to the main section of the hospital and I spent the rest of my time there being poked and prodded with MRIs, CT scans, a spinal tap, full blood testing, ultrasounds of my heart which of course wasn’t happy about me being so weak, all trying to figure out why I was unable to used my lower legs or even feel them. I had physical therapy twice a day everyday until the 6th of September. That was my release date in which I had to have my mother approve that if I could bathe myself, use the restroom myself and go up and down the stairs to come and go from the house then she would let me come home. The nurses, doctors, and my two physical therapists all had to sign off on it with me loving I was capable to do all of the things necessary to be released.
I was home and using a walker and I have legs braces that I still use. I was able to walk without the walker about three weeks of being home. My sister had just had her baby 3 days before I came home, and he was a god send to my family. My father had had two major surgeries I didn’t know about while I was in the hospital, he had heart surgery and he had a tumor removed from his brain because of brain cancer that was not curable which he battled with following chemotherapy and radiation. He lost his life fighting as hard as he possibly could on October 20th. That was 9 days from my 30th birthday. The loss in the family was like ramming into a brick wall of sadness and grief.
I wanted to drain my sorrows away like I had been doing for almost two years prior to and after my fiancé commit suicide on June 24th of 2019. In which I tired to save him! I kept him alive until the ambulance, police, and fire truck showed up all while holding the phone on my shoulder squeezing the towel around his head. The trauma was so great that I starting drowning out the night terrors and flash backs of it with at least a half gallon of vodka a day! Then when my dad passed it hit me hard again. That’s why when Thanksgiving came around I just broke down enough to go taken four shots at a bar with an ex of mine that flew in to be here with my family. I hated myself for doing it but it rekindled that feeling of warmth and relief of the depression and sadness. That’s what created my current sneaking off to have wine from moms nightly bottle. Last night I said no more I can’t keep doing this to myself anymore I will not let this take my freedom, true happiness or worse my life.
Today I got up and started off with making my bed and taking a shower, also taking my seizure meds, my depression meds and my muscle relaxers that stop the constant tingling and pain in my feet. Which all is now called “peripheral neuropathy” that was my overall diagnosis when I was released from the hospital due to all the damaged neurons in my brain.
So today, I start again, I am so mad at myself that I let the depression and craving win and break down. Everyone wish me luck even though I know at the end of the day it’s on me to keep my promise not to go back, I promised my dad that on his death bed! And I hate that I already have failed him at some level.
As a Mom to an adult daughter who also struggled with addiction, I just feel like as long as you keep fighting and don’t give up, you aren’t letting your Dad down. Please don’t give up on yourself. I know meetings help a lot of folks. As does reading and posting and being active here. I don’t know anything about seizures, but that sounds intense. I hope you are healing body mind and spirit. Sobriety can really help with that. Please don’t give up on yourself. Even as life can toss so much at us…there is still beauty and peace thru community, sobriety, connection.