Spoiler Alert:
I don’t know if we’re going to be able to get through everything we have left to discuss in a single post. It’s not how I intended it. It’s just the way it is. There may have to be a Part III. Consider yourself warned.

Get this. Earlier this week I get a call from someone I’ve known for over 40 years. We hadn’t talked in quite some time, but as it is with good friends, we chatted like time never passed. She had some pretty serious medical issues several years ago, so we were comparing ER and ICU experiences. I mentioned something about how your brain begins to play games with you when you’re seriously ill. She says something like, “Yes! The hallucinations!”

I’m not sure if what I experienced technically qualifies as hallucinations. But it has to be pretty close. It’s not quite like dreaming; but it’s not unlike it either. I could just close my eyes and immediately see visions, but I was awake. In some ways it was kind of like lucid dreaming in that the visions could be slightly – but not completely – controlled. When I opened my eyes the memory of the visions would quickly fade, just like a dream. Then I would spend the next 20-30 seconds trying to figure out where I was and how I got there.

I don’t know about you, but I believe when most people think of hallucinations they’re thinking Grateful Dead dancing bears, talking buildings, or maybe a kaleidoscope with the heads of their high school teachers. My experience has been much less “Whoa man. Check it out.” and much more “WTF!” Most of my visions were of endless dark patterns. Kind of like the beginning of Star Wars‘s where we see the bottom of an imperial destroyer cruising by for what seems like forever. I also saw several fractals made out of elements of nature like leaves and such. (There were also a few horrible things that we’re not going to talk about.) But there were two hallucinations/visions entertaining enough to warrant sharing.

While still in the ER, I was peacefully examining the detailed texture of what was probably a wall inside a 1950s Soviet Gulag. Having had enough of that after a few minutes (seriously, how long can you stare at gray peeling paint before you go insane?) I asked myself to show me something that was “fun”. It took a few moments but I soon found myself inside what was either a small auditorium or something like a large country bar. There was a very old well-worn rounded wooden stage with a heavy dark colored curtain in the back and matching curtains on each side. There was no seating, just a packed general admission area that was full of rock-hopper penguins. On stage was a band of… rock-hopper penguins. From my vantage point I could see the door to backstage. Some penguin groupies were trying to get past penguin security so they could hang out after the show. Way in the back of the hall a few penguin couples were too busy making-out to be bothered with the performance on stage. The whole scene was very happy and comical and I made a mental note not to forget it.

A day or two later, still feverish and feeling like death warmed over, I was hallucinating about swimming with whales. Which sounds pretty cool but actually it’s awfully dark deep underwater and there were a lot of weeds and the vision was giving me some anxiety (did I mention that I once drowned?) so I needed a change. This time I asked myself to show me something that was warm and outside. In my mind I was soon floating over an orange grove in central Florida. Dozens of trees were arranged in nice rows with ample green space in between. It was harvest season; you could see the oranges on the trees amongst the green leaves. There were boxes full of oranges sitting on carts and on the ground. Half-full boxes were under every tree and also haphazardly strewn about. The whole grove was being tended to by about a dozen pandas. There was a panda sleeping in a tree. There was a panda sitting with its back against a truck reading a book. Some were working; picking fruit and pulling carts. But most were just swinging from trees, playing with oranges, or otherwise goofing off.

I have no idea what causes this, but I know it’s not the drugs as I wasn’t on any. All I was getting was antibiotics and something to keep the blood pressure up. While in the hospital I kinda figured it was just a gift from the sepsis. But now hearing from someone else who also experienced hallucinations – who had lost a lot of blood but did not necessarily have an infection – I’m questioning my theory. And no, I have not done any online research on the issue.

---

“Don’t believe everything you read on the Internet.”
— Abraham Lincoln

---

Anyway, where were we? Tuesday evening. Hospital room. Check.

Exhausted, incredibly unwell, and starving since I hadn’t eaten anything in the last 24 hours (they don’t feed you in the ED,) I just wanted something to eat and to go to sleep. The hospital kitchen closes at 6:30. By the time we got settled in the room it was pushing 7:00. Ugh. I can’t recall – and it really doesn’t matter – if Suzie brought me something from home or I just decided to screw it and not eat. I was happy to be out of the ED and just wanted to relax and get some sleep. Suzie helped me get settled; made sure I had enough blankets and pillows. Then we turned off all the lights, I put on some music on my phone, and I spent the next 10 hours wide awake. (Did I mention the pandas?)

Some time after midnight I realized I missed a text from Bob asking if the doctors had a plan. Here’s my response:

The doctor has looked at me like I was an alien. Asking themselves How is this guy still alive? With his temperature spikes How come he doesn't have brain damage? Then they would very clearly and calmly Go through a plan of action for the next few days With antibiotics and whatnot And then scuttle away. Tonight I got a 103.4 fever. Can't take any more Tylenol for another 2 hours. Governed by idiots

So – as you can imagine – it was not a good night.

With the precision of a finely crafted Swiss timepiece, every morning between 5:29 and 5:30 a nice (slightly older) Polish woman would come in to draw blood. Wednesday morning was no exception. Now drawing blood is a serious process, and thankfully this woman takes her charge seriously. She lets nothing stand in the way of her safely, and efficiently, completing her rounds. I’m confident it is for this reason that every morning without fail the first thing she did was turn on every light in the room. That includes 2 of the Face Melter 3,000s that they had in the emergency room. These are necessary in case CNN needs to conduct an interview with the president in my hospital room. We can’t have shadows streamed all across America.

No sooner did I finally fall asleep than the hospital started to wake up. I’d doze off and it would be a shift change; the day’s nurse would come in and wake me up. Then some doctor on rounds. Then meds. Then the kitchen would call, wanting to know if I wanted to order breakfast. However I couldn’t answer the phone. So it would just ring and ring. Another doctor. And on and on. It was coming up on noon when I figured I’d finally be able to be left alone for a few hours. I got as comfortable as I could, had a big drink of water, and asked the nurse’s assistant to turn off all the lights and close the door. So there I was, chill’n in the dark, eyes closed, reasonably comfortable and again… the phone rings.

We live in amazing times. We carry computers in our pockets. We have self driving cars and we’re on the verge of an incredible leap forward with artificial intelligence. But for some reason we can’t figure out how to notify the hospital kitchen that a person in a room can’t answer the phone.

Anyway. I did manage to get a few hours of sleep. Woke up around 3:00 and saw another missed text from Bob. I responded:

Swing by a church and light a candle. I'm still alive on Friday was a good $2 investment

Seriously.

That’s just how was. Thursday morning I coughed up a Jell-O mold. Had to be put on oxygen. On the positive front, the infectious disease doctor told me that they had isolated the bacteria growing in both my urine and blood. So they were very confident they knew what bug was causing the issues. He also said – for reasons I immediately forgot – that they were doubling the dose of the antibiotic I was receiving. So at least things were should be headed in the right direction.

Still had a fever Thursday evening. During our Friday morning consult, the infectious disease doctor explains that the team of doctors is concerned by the ongoing fever. He says there are only two reasons for the fever to continue: either they have the wrong drug for the bug or there is a secondary infection somewhere that they don’t know about. He’s confident they have the right drug, so the diagnosis is that there is something else going on. He leaves saying that he’s going to put in an order for a CT scan.

Friday passes; no CT scan.

Saturday passes; no CT scan. Wait. Not so fast. Compared to where I was just a few days earlier, Saturday was a pretty good day. Still wasn’t sleeping well. Still running an elevated temperature. But I was able to see a few visitors and certainly felt much better than I did. In the evening I was tired and looking forward to making an attempt at sleeping through the night. Not putting it to chance, I took my tramadol & acetaminophen at 7:00 and asked the nurse to bring me some Ambien at 11:00. At 10:50 the nurse walks in with my Ambien and while she’s a scanning my wristband in walk a couple of guys from transport. “We’re here to take you down for a CT scan.”

Not too busy in radiology at that time of night on a Saturday. I got wheeled into a “waiting area” but when the guys from transport left, I was the only one there. After a few moments two women pop out of the control room somewhere and begin explaining the process. The one talking is about 5’2″ and might weigh 98 lbs. after Thanksgiving dinner. The other one was taller, heavier, but also about 8 1/2 months pregnant. I explained that I’ve had a CT before and am familiar with the procedure. The little one is not convinced; she continues her speech. “Yep. I got it.” She continues. “Understood.” It never ends.

When the lecture on CT procedure is over she politely asks if I have any questions. I just shake my head. She accepts my head movement as a sign it’s safe to move on. With that she very professionally, and efficiently, continues on with, “Okay then. So now were going to roll your bed into the CT room, we’ll get it right across from the CT table, and we’ll just need you to take 2 steps over.” Ugh.

Sunday morning, in walks the doctor from infectious disease, “You have a kidney stone lodged in your left ureter.”

---

And that my friends is where we are going to have to leave it for now. In our next installment we have fasting, canceled late-night surgery, and plenty of other exciting things to talk about. You won’t want to miss it!

The old email system was not working. I’ve moved to a new system that should work much better. Please let me know of any issues. If you’re not subscribed to my email list, and would like to receive updates, enter your email in the form below.

Please feel free to share this post or the website.

As always, many thanks for all of the support.

---

Standing chitchat, Sundays at 3:30 Central.
No login or special software required.
Here’s the link: https://jb.jb03.com/call/e35vvpp9.

---