No one could tell how long I would need to be in the hospital. Early estimates were about four weeks and then some length of time in a nursing facility until I could fend for myself at home. Then the insurance company got involved.
Since Sutter (my medical provider) does not communicate well with UC Davis, Sutter wanted me in one of their facilities. The new plan was to transfer me to a Sutter hospital (likely Roseville) and then to a nursing facility, and then home.
This was the time that my digestive system decided not to cooperate. After several scans and x-rays, Sutter decided it was better for UC Davis to attend to this problem and, once I was off IV nutrition and the NG tube, they would take me to Roseville. This took about a week. Finally, I was able to have the NG tube removed and start eating regular (hospital) food. Almost instantly I was ready to leave. Not to Roseville. Not to a nursing facility. I got to go home.
My family set up a perfect hospice area in the family room. I could watch TV. I had my favorite view out the window. I was comfortable to sleep. I didn’t have to go upstairs. The next couple of weeks I spent here.
As my strength improved, I was able to walk around the house, and even up the stairs (only partway at first). I began taking short walks to the end of the driveway and then around the block, and, finally, around the neighborhood.
It’s surprising how much energy healing takes. After a short walk or a shower, I needed a nap. I could only eat small amounts of food at a time. My skin was dry and flaky, as if I’d been out in the sun too much and was peeling. I got dizzy every time I moved my head. The hospital said I was well enough to go home and I thought that meant I could get back to normal life, but I was a long way from normal life. Over the next several weeks the miraculous rate of healing began to fade to a slower, more consistent, gradual recovery.
Truth be told, nothing happens as fast as we want it to, but everything happens when it’s supposed to.
