The Day My Life Stood Still

   It's 5am and already the hospital is a hive of activity. We waited by the fake fireplace along with others who probably felt the same sense of apprehension as I did. Nothing showed on our faces, however.
   A young nurse soon arrived to escort me down to the lower levels of the building into an area partitioned by curtains into separate cubicles. The woman who greeted us was all business and efficiency, and pointed to the cloth covered table. "We have a lot to do to prepare you for your surgery. So, if you would get undressed and lay down here, we'll get started."
   The other nurse returned and they went to work. As I lay there naked while they inserted I/V's into both my arms, shaved practically every inch of my body, and used a black marker to draw little pictures on me, I wondered if I was being prepped for surgery or as a sacrifice to some pagan god.
   The doctor poked his head in and said, "It's time"
   My dearest friend squeezed my hand, and the last thing I heard was, "I love you. Come back to me."

   Voices.
   I'm alive, I think. But I can't see and I can't breathe. Is that my heart beating? Yes! The voice came again, and this time I could understand the words.
   "Breathe, Roland! I need you to breathe."
   I'm too hot and the blankets are wrapped too tight for me to breathe, I tried to tell him. However, the tube down my throat made it impossible to speak. Fear is setting in and I begin to panic. Being strapped down and unable to move didn't help.
   "Breathe for me, Roland. I can't take the tube out of your throat until you're breathing on your own."
   I don't know if it was the fear or my brain finally beginning to function, but I managed to draw a tiny bit of air into my lungs. PAIN! I would have screamed if I could. I don't remember him pulling the tube, but when I became aware again, the tube was out, I could see, and they had me sitting up.
   The flood of voices overwhelmed me as nurses and doctors double-checked the four I/V's, the three 1/2 in. drain tubes coming out of my chest, the catheters in my neck and arm, and all the sensors from head to toe feeding the bank of monitors next to my bed. That was 2 1/2 months ago and I still have a long way to go. Three months of cardio rehab and it could take up to a year for a full recovery.
   I still have a difficult time comprehending the fact that for 5 hours I had no heartbeat and wasn't breathing. Was I dead? I don't know, but I'm alive now and have a completely different outlook on life. Not yet sure if that's a good thing or not.
   Picture is what I saw the first time I was able to look in a mirror. Not pretty.
   Thanks for reading. Next post should be back to my struggles with writing.