Life Savor!

I did indeed get my new right knee, and all went well with the surgery. I got home on the third day, was boogieing around on the walker, felt terrific as I fell asleep that night. BUT apparently I threw up in my sleep, breathed in some of it, and got “aspiration pneumonia.” Bottom line: I very nearly died. Truly. Several doctors told me that. Blood pressure cratered, organs couldn’t get blood, liver started to crash — but after the firefighters slammed me into the ER and the great Presbyterian Hospital got my innards back to life, I was home a week later! One of the docs said, “You have no idea how far you’ve come.” Meaning, of course, how far down I’d been.

Outcome:  I made it through just fine. Am walking pretty darn well now. Also, I lost that sixteen pounds I’d been annoyed with since right after the earth cooled. People have complimented me on my (comparative) slimness and asked me what diet I used to get such excellent results. When they learn it was a Near Death Experience, the South Beach Diet approach starts looking good.

… As I read this, I realize that once again I’m using smart-assery to minimize a Very Big Deal. I almost died. Wow. I was healthy at bedtime and could not be roused eight hours later. And I could feel I was dying. I said so as soon as I was awake, but of course everybody soothed me and assured me I wasn’t. But I was, and I could feel it. And now I’m completely back. Wow.

OK, I’ve gotten that out of my system now. And as you might guess, an old life-lover like me is over-the-moon joyous every single day. LIFE! WHAT A CONCEPT!

I hope you’re celebrating yours on this Fourth of July weekend. We are all so dumbfoundingly lucky.

Next time I’ll tell you about how I got “hospital psychosis” and went bat-shit crazy. But for now I’m picking Buddy Bear up from the doggie daycare center and starting the weekend celebration. Robert will be home in six hours to join whatever festivities we whomp up.

Cheers!