Monday, March 28, 2011

Missing Moments

Things occurred during and after the surgery that I have no recall of but have been told stories about. Apparently shortly after I woke up the doctor went through and asked me a series of questions about where I was and I responded Florida. I responded that I had just come from Aruba (not Barbados), Aruba was actually where we went from our honeymoon. The year was 1980 something. It would be later explained to me that it was important that, despite getting the information incorrect, the fact that I was answering the questions with the right type of word was the more important factor (ie what year is it, purple would have been a bigger problem, 1980 something was not). My wife later told me that the questions I got correct were about her and Kiana which shows which parts of my mind weren’t flexible to being wrong. She made it her first facebook status that I’d gotten the important questions right.

That evening I was awake for four hours where I would demand things like bananas when I really meant pain killers or water. I would also suddenly start shaking myself in the bed trying to do something that wasn’t clear. Apparently the movement was so much that there was a point that the nurses thought that I might have to be restrained because one of these moments was trying to take the bandages off my head. This echoed the sentiment and actions from the original biopsy where (again I have no memory of this) despite the fact that I was wearing a catheter I was trying to forcibly get up to go pee. The nurse there told me it was unnecessary and that I needed to stay in bed. With smart aleckiness, I told her I would just wait till she left and then I’d go pee in the corner. Maybe I don’t have any superpowers but one of my regular abilities is a resistance to staying down.

I woke up at nine o’clock consciously and first thing I remember is that my wife was there with me. It turned out that it had been a mistake that I had placed an unnecessary burden on her by asking her to wait to let me post my own first facebook status several hours after the surgery. People had been bugging her for a few hours trying to figure out how I was doing. Had I thought of that possibility I would have never done it. About half an hour into being ‘awake,’ I placed my own status and said, without awareness of the mistakes I had made for the last few hours: “For those of you who had hoped I’d come out without language, sorry it’s still there’” and I also thanked people. The joke that had been a few times about putting in a mute button or a volume button had failed. I called Kiana and spoke with her for a few minutes and spoke with my wife for a little while longer and then faded out again a while before ten. However, I was still awake for a while and since I was in the ICU, no one was allowed to spend the night. My wife was trying to head out to head the half hour home but apparently every time she did I insisted that she stay, that I needed her. My subconscious state, unlike I rarely do during my fully conscious state, kept stating that my life was better with her present and that in a damaged state she was something that made my life stable. I finally fell actually asleep shortly before midnight and she headed to where we were staying.

A pattern began that night that would last for about 10 days, I had a variety of horrible nightmares and the only good dreams I had and I’d have them each night as well were about Kiana and her mom. It would be over a week before I’d even sleep straight for more than an hour and a half to two hours so I’d have more recall of dreams than I’d ever had. During the following week, this dream pattern continued. Since I would only briefly remember them, initially I was tempted to start writing them down but remembering nightmares was silly. I wrote down some of the good ones and they were essentially about doing some quality time with my wife and daughter, some were with each of them alone and some were with all three of us. Family was what had helped me stay alive and what got me through each night and what made me want to make dreams come true.

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