It's blurry and furry. And druggy and muggy. Scary and hairy. Exhausting and teary.
(I think) it was Tuesday the 21st, could have been Wednesday, about 10 at night when I coughed deeply and a steady stream of blood burst out of my stoma, hitting the wall. The bleeding was severe : a garden hose on full blast while a finger is held over it.
Saturated two surgical gauze pads, 3 wash clothes folded into quarters and 2 folded dish towels in under 5 minutes. I told Dan he needed to call 911 as I was bleeding out. Fortunately, I'm not on blood thinners.
The ambulance arrives. I am still bleeding heavily, just keeping steady pressure over a wound the size of a pencil point. Serious. Small opening, big bleeding. Being carried down a flight of stairs on a stretcher and being flipped sideways to make the corner, is a very weird experience. We arrived at St. Peter's. Odd because I usually go the the ER on Fridays, never mid-week. The EMT's had taken over the bandage and pressure job, leaving me to cry freely in fear and pain. There was a lot of blood.
I received three blood transfusions by the time I was discharged on Saturday the 25th. Crazy.
Back to the hospital, the bleeding stopped, eventually. As will this post. To continue talking about ER visit #2, the admission and ER visit #3 today.
