[Jim_69]

I am not really sure where to post this, but it is something I need to get out in the open as I sometimes feel I am losing my mind.

First a little background.

A few months ago I developed a severe case of pnuemonia. I was admitted to our local hospital for a few days and then life flighted to a regional hospital. I ended up undergoing 2 surgeries, 1 of which was an emergency procedure to remove over 2 liters of fluid that had built up around my chest and lungs, and a second one to remove as much of the infection and debris from my lung as possible.

In total I was hostipalized for a month, and for slightly over 2 weeks I was intubated and kept 95% unconscious.

I say 95% because from time to time I had flashes of what was going on around me, but the images were and still are jumbled and totally out of sequence. Also some of my memories were obviously hallucinations, like being cared for in a 24th century medical facility out of Star Trek, and some of them are not so obvious.

The one thing that is not out of whack with time is my knowing at the time it was happening, that I was very close to death. So close that the specialists told my family to get to the hospital now and the ICU nursing staff were placed on alert. I was given less than a 20% chance of living more than a few more hours. (I was able to piece this together after I had the intubation tube removed and no longer sedated)

Anyway, during this time that I was at my weakest and closest point to death I had what can only be termed as a near death experience. I did not see the light, I did not see lost loved ones. In fact, other than the room around me constanly changing size, color, and shape, I did not really see anything. At the same time I was with a very close "friend" who talked to me about choices. I was told that I had a choice to make. I could live or I could come home and that either way my choice would be supported in the fullest.

For a time I was ready to stop fighting. I was ready to go home and I was just waiting for the final moment when I would be allowed to.

As I was about to make the journey, off in the distance, I heard a song playing. It was Faith of the Heart, and it brought to mind visions of my infant son who was not even a year old at the time. It was then I changed my mind to stay here for him.

My "friend" said goodbye to me, told me that we would meet again, and that it was time to fight for what I wanted. Since I wanted to live and hold my son again I did just that, quite literally I fought. I ended up removing my intubation tube and then fought off several of the nursing staff who were trying to keep me from hurting myself.

After all this my stats improved and within one week I was off the vent for good, had all the other tubes removed (except for my IV line) and was undergoing rehab to get my muscles used to working again. In another week I was discharged and sent home. All in all it was an amazing and miraculous recovery, and I am grateful, but at the same time I feel I am losing my mind.

I keep trying to put the pieces together and I am no closer now than I was 6 weeks or so ago. I have tried to talk to my wife, my doctor and a few others but all I get is this skeptical look and the line "well you have been through a lot and everything I fine now."
Hearing this does nothing for my "sanity". It only adds to the feeling that I am going crazy, that I am close to losing my hold on reality.

So here I am. Telling my story the best way I can in hopes that I can find some peace and some reassurance from getting this into the light of day in the hopes that it will no longer be as scary.

The only thing that I have been told, which was while I was in the hospital, is that I have some kind of post tramatic stress disorder now, but that it should be short lived. So short lived that the medication that I was given to help keep me on an even keel while in the hospital and at home, was only prescribed for about 2 months, which runs out in a few more days though it has not done much good at all.

Well thank you for "listening."

[(JD)]

What an interesting post. Thank you for sharing. I, too, have had a similar experience. Yes, initially it was quite traumatic for me...but as I realized that I was given an additional chance at life, it became a good feeling.

Being on a ventilator can be harrowing, for sure. That's why they keep you mostly sedated.

I think you are more fearful of running out of medicine than the event at this point perhaps? Not sure you can handle the memory on your own, perhaps? It would make sense to me, as all of your story does.

What medicine were you given? Have you sought out a Therapist to discuss your experience with, to work through it completely? I think that helped me, as I had colleagues who did assist me to put it all into perspective.

One thing I also had (have) that helped me in a strong faith in God. If you are not sure about the outcome from dying, then why not call your local faith's office and make an appointment to also discuss your fears.

Good wishes!

[arod13]

(((((( Jim 69 )))))))

give it time to all piece together

[Jim_69]

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I think you are more fearful of running out of medicine than the event at this point perhaps? Not sure you can handle the memory on your own, perhaps? It would make sense to me, as all of your story does.

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I have considered this, but it really is not me. I think that my problem, or at least part of it, is that I tend to have an ordered mind and all of this is definately not ordered. The other part is not having anyone to talk to about this. Maybe it is one of those things someone has to experience to truly believe and/or appreciate. I suspect it is because if someone had told me what I had told a few others I probably would believe them, but at the same time dismiss it as not being as "nerve racking" as what it really is.

Also I really have no fear of being without the medication (Seroquel) as I can get more from my Primary Doc if I need or want it, which I do not because I am needing to go back on Cymbalta which I take for diabetic nueropathy and the doc does not want me on both, besides which the Seroquel is making it impossible to control my sugar levels.

Believe me, I am very happy to have made it through and to be alive to hold my son and love my wife and all that good stuff. That part of me feels like the triumphant warrior returning after a very successful campaign against his most hated enemies. In no way do I wish things had been different.

I have considered going to see a counselor, but that thought does scare me. I am afraid that instead of some honest understanding I will run into the same thing I have from everyone else I have talked to. I just do not need that right now, if ever.

Anyway, thank you for replying. I do appreciate your insights and understanding. That even one person seems to understand the chaos of being sedated to the point of fantasy and reality blurring and being unable to interact meaningfully with your surroundings and all of that, it means a lot and it helps.

[(JD)]

NP with replying, that's what we do here at pc

Ok I understand the meds thing better, yes I agree, keeping your insulin levels under control is very important... that can affect your cognition too, remember.

If you do have PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) or anything near that, it won't get better on it's own. The sooner you seek help, the quicker you will begin to heal, and the "easier" it will be. It becomes very tough later on.

Seeing a counselor/therapist should be different than trying to talk to people IRL (in real life) who are more focussed on themselves than trying to help you figure out what you need in your life Yes, it can be difficult to begin, but once you find someone who understands you and cares about your healing, it is well worth it. TC! JD

[Bethsway]

I had an outer body experience when I was just a child...at the time I didn't even know what that was...I was having an operation to have my tonsils taken out...I rose up to the ceiling and could see the doctors operating on me and I was just lying there on the table....I remember floating out the door and looking down the hall for my mom...I saw her sitting out in a little room down the hall...felt better she was there so I floated back in the operating room and back down to my body...do people believe me when I tell them? I don't know! but I do feel it truly happened...anyway, try not to worry so much about fitting the pieces together...focus instead on what your friend and you decided...to come back for your son...It is so good that you did come back for that! Hope you find some therapy to help you get over this!! and please know that we at PC are glad to listen and respond!!!

[JustAPixie]

(((((((((( Jim )))))))))

Your story is amazing, truly a miracle. I have not had such an experience, so I can't really comment. Why are you taking seroquel? Isn't that for schitzophrenia? I use it for sleeping, but does it help with PTSD?

I agree with Sky on the therapy thing. I have PTSD with late onset and it does not go away on its own, and yes, the longer you wait the more difficolt it becomes. Are you afraid of not being in control? Is it maybe that which is bothering you about the hospital experience? Would you feel better if you had a step by step explanation of what went on? Was there something specific that is bothering you?

[Jim_69]

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Why are you taking seroquel? Isn't that for schitzophrenia? I use it for sleeping, but does it help with PTSD?

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Seroquel is used primarily for schitzophrenia and bipolar disorders, but it is also used to help with hallucinations, delusions and confusion.

While I am not to sure I had any delusions before, during, or after all this I do know that I have had hallucinations in the hospital while sedated and lots of confusion since then, at least about the details. I know the chain of events, and I know the why behind everything I went through, but the details is what is so hard to deal with, or rather the not knowing all the true ones from many of the fantasy ones.

It would have been better, IMHO, if I had been kept completely under during all of this, but I do understand that the medical staff were concerned with my stats being lowered even further by too much due to the sedatives. I have been told that at one point, on 100% o2 that my pulse ox had dropped to 80. It is those moments when I was in bewtween sedated sleep and wakefulness that is so hard to correlate.

Please do not think I am blaming any of the doctors, nurses, etc. I am not and my gratefulness of the lengths they all went through to save my life knows no bounds. They did what they had to do and they never gave up. (At one time I had a team of doctors that numbered over 20 working together).

If things do not resolve themselves from talking about it here I will attempt to find a counselor or therapist to hash it all out in person. All I know is that it is effecting how I am functioning in my day to day life. It started out like a small nagging headache that will not go away but is easily ignored for a while but as days pass it gets worse until it starts to invade your world. There is no pain of course, but it is the best analogy I can come up with.

AS a full time stay at home Dad I can not afford too many compromises.

[JustAPixie]

(((((((( Jim ))))))))

How about hypnotherapy? To help you remember?

Welcome and yes that is the wierdest feeling to be medically 95% unaware. I have endoscopys every year due to cancer and one of the reasons I have decided not to go through with it this past month was because of that 95% being out of it. anyway I am amazed you were able to pull out the intubation tubes. Having nursing background and going through intubations with my endoscopys I know that it takes alot of swollowing - coughing action at the same time a physician puts a special tool to in the intubation tube to deflate the rubber balloon that is anchoring the tube at the bottom of the airway and lungs so that when a patient moves the intubation tube stays in place because the rubber ballon is larger significantly larger then the airway tubes. the only way to get the intubation tubes out is by a doctor deflating the baloon and then the patient coughing and gagging while the doctor is pulling the tube straight out. The first time I had the endoscopy I woke up enough during the proceedure to start fighting and trying to pull out the tubings and it was impossible. So I give you lots of credit for being able to do that while drugged to 95% unawareness and not having that rubber balloon anchoring the tube deflated.

and again welcome to psych central.

[January]

Hello Jim,

Welcome to PC. I believe you. I truly do. Things sometimes happen to us that have no logic to them at all. Then we have to adjust our belief system to accomodate what we know happened to us.

I died twice one night last January. I didn't see or talk to anyone, but I was absolutely furious that the staff brought me back and made me live here again.

My very best to you,

Jan