Against all odds I’m alive. Technically, I died the first time in 1967 when I had that spinal fusion and laminectomy. The spine infected, but with a little supernatural intervention, I got to throw the dice again. Next, there was a burst ovarian cyst and septicemia. No doctor would treat me because they said it was just a delayed menstrual cycle (not). I had to check myself into the hospital for a prepaid abortion (I wasn’t pregnant) before anyone paid any attention.
Then oh let’s see … the viral meningitis. That was fun. Talk about your really bad headaches. That was the granddaddy of all headaches!
There was the botched gastric bypass followed by losing my medical insurance and five years of malnutrition. Saved by the skin of my teeth and a great doctor who realized if I didn’t get immediate care, I’d be dead by the end of the week. Took me in without insurance. I was well along on my trip to the Other Side, but the Brigham called in the Plastic Surgery Swat team to dismantle and rebuild my septic abdomen plus another supernatural intervention and voilà! I made it out the other side, two surgeries and two codes later.
Then came breast cancer. Diagnosed the right breast and I suggested they take a look at the left one, too. Nah. Waste of time they said. That never happens.
Finally, they were persuaded to check it out and guess what? A second tumor. So I had a double mastectomy and reconstruction two years ago and now, whoa! What’s that? Your heart? You’ve got extremely serious cardiomyopathy! And a non-working mitral valve! Where the devil did that come from? It was fine last we looked and it wasn’t that long ago!
AGAINST ALL ODDS — I’m alive. I’m supposed to go get a cardiac catheterization followed by a cardio-myectomy to redesign my left ventricle and more surgery to repair (hopefully not replace) the mitral valve — except … double whoa … it looks like maybe I’ve got the flu. Or pneumonia. I don’t think it’s pneumonia yet.
My husband won’t let me have heart surgery when I’m already sick. I see his point. It’s possible I’ve had all the supernatural interventions I’m going to get this side of the grave, so maybe it would be better to not press my luck. I want to sleep for a long time and wake to everything being all better. Is that too much to ask? Yeah, it is. But gee, it sounds awfully good to me.
Alternatively, I will take the advice of several of my commenters. Paint myself blue with weird symbols and organize a pillaging raid on the local Walmart. I need to strike a blow for freedom!!
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