Chapter Twelve: My Hospitalization……Page

CHAPTER TWELVE My Hospitalization

Arrangements were made for me to stay at my daughters in Kingston. There were so many pre-operative sessions to attend and many tests to see my condition and strength to undergo an operation of this magnitude. The day was set for the twenty-fifth of August. Be there at seven am they said. I was there and so were all my children. They all were seemingly being in a good frame of mind and were chatting with me and being positive.

That morning I showered and used the antibacterial soap they gave me with a special brush and I scrubbed my chest area until the skin tingled. They got me ready and sitting with my family in a special room for immediate members of my family. An hour went by and I waited trying to make friendly conversation. Then another hour was gone and I was waiting.

My thoughts went back to the nurse in the registration room. What religion are you, they asked? This always scared the hell out of me because there are kind of final questions if all goes wrong. I said I am a Faithist, what she said was “I never heard of that one before”. Why I didn’t say that I was a Catholic or a Protestant never crossed my mind, which would be too simple. I gave her the explanation of a Faithist. A

Faithist is a person that believes that there is only the Creator and no in between Gods.

The chances were getting greater that somehow I was not going to wake up from this operation. I don’t care, I thought, as I know more about the afterlife than most people, I hoped. The surgeon came into the room and said “Wayne we are not able to do your heart operation today”.

After waiting for three hours with my family that all had taken the day off work to be with me caused some anxiety. The doctor said that there was an emergency operation that has to be done on a little child and that I had to wait until tomorrow. He said be here at 6:00 a.m. on Wednesday and you will be operated on. I could see and feel their faces drop. My family was going through the same turmoil as I was and trying not to show any upset.

The next day I showered again with that special soap. My chest area was rubbed raw. Down to the hospital at 6:00 a.m. and the kids were there again. This time it was no fooling. It was for real. I was shaved on the chest area and lay naked on this mobile bed then taken down to the operating room. Things were happening fast. Within a couple of minutes they had an intravenous line into my hand. The room was so cold and the doctors and the operating team had rubber boots on. This crossed my mind as not being a very good sign for what was coming. Rubber

boots??? I was strapped onto a stainless steel table much like a table they used in the morgues. The thought now of dying was prominent and I was not quite ready. One of my last thought was if a Hell really existed. I was not feeling as comfortable with my thoughts now as I was yesterday, I can tell you. I was seeing blurry now and my thoughts were sure not godlike. I was in very deep now and not feeling too sure if life was over. Everything was quiet now, no nothing.

My next moment of life in a semiconscious state was just terrible. I was coming out of the aesthetic and not able to see very well. Margie was there looking at me and I was able to give a thumbs up to her. The family was all there again looking at me and smiling. I was hooked up to so many lines and breathing tubes with discharge tubes inserted into the chest cavity. I was not all dead but was not all alive either. By this time I was not quite sure just which one I wanted to be. I was in the intensive care unit and I could see my family a couple at a time. Oh God, I thought, somehow you were there for me.

Morphine was my companion for the next few days. Blood tests, it seemed, were given every few minutes. It was a well-organized intensive care room. Constant attention was what happened in there and any fluctuation of the monitors was responded to immediately. After about a full day I was sent to the step-down unit. And another day was spent there and the nurses were nothing short of wonderful people that were sincerely seeing to my well-being. Now the morphine was

administered in pills. The pain was very deep and new. And I was sweating with pain until the pills were administered. I felt like my reasons to be living were dwindling. The nurses seemed to be able to get a smile from me by times. God did not seem to be much of a concern at this time and religion never entered my mind.

The next day, after being awake through the night, started with “You are going to walk to your new room this morning, so sit up”. There was no way that this body could even move to a sitting position, but with pulling and prodding my feet touched the floor and the nurses were there to support me as well as that post with assorted fluids with all the lines. It rolled slowly with each step, each small little step.

A long hallway loomed before me. My God was it a long walk. Why did I have to walk when there were wheels on the bed? Why this torture? Why are they making me walk that hallway? This will be a part of your recovery program they told me. The sooner you get moving, the quicker you recover. This is what was said in the pre op discussions. Yes, I walked. There was no getting out of it, no matter how I cursed silently to myself.

Finally my body lay in a new bed and pain pills were never quite enough. I lived a minute at a time with little, if any, effort from me. Somehow this operation was just more than I could bear. The pain was excruciating and the medication was only taking the edge from my screaming out.

Oh God, why did you let me live was a common internal prayer? The minutes turned into hours and days. The nurses were exceptional in their care for me. They must be some kind of special people to attend all these near death beings. They are the angels for mankind, no doubt. Gradually the pain lessened and strange happenings were coming very fast.

The room was dark except for some light around the monitors and I was at the edge of sleep. The ceiling tile was pushed away and a face came into view. It was Homer Simpson. Is this for real, I thought, trying to blank out my vision? Oh yes it’s me and I have been watching you for a few days, he said to me. I’m losing it I thought, I must surely be hallucinating. I confirmed my vision with one of the nurses and unfortunately my medication was changed at the next pill time. Pain now was intense again and with the morphine gone it was just codeine and barely enough to do much. Homer Simpson appeared now and then for quite some time afterward. He sometimes was sitting on the back of a dragonfly and sometimes just swinging through the room on a vine. Homer seemed to understand my condition. He was becoming my friend.

Each day it was necessary to remove plastic tubes. The big breathing tube was the first to go. The next one was the one that was inserted into my nose. Then there were two large clear soft plastic hoses just below the chest cavity for drainage. The removal of these required a special

nurse that had to show some student nurses just how to do it. They asked me if they could all watch. I don’t know what would have happened if I said no. It was a serious procedure and I was given warning that I may feel some discomfort. “The hospital word” for agonizing pain. Okay, she said one, two, three, go. My God, I thought that those two plastic tubes must have somehow attached themselves to my testicles as the pain felt like they were pulling my whole cardiovascular system through those holes, complete with testicles. The tears subsided and my face relaxed and the nurse said, “There you go. Feel better now?” My heart told me I was very much alive. It felt like it was rapping out that message on my inner ribs.

The doctor came in the next morning and he leaned over my face and said, “The operation was successful and you have a strong heartbeat.” I smiled at him and thought that I might just keep living. The medication was changed to regulate my heartbeat and I was without any tubes in any part of my body now except two wires that were attached to the heart muscle itself. I called them Just In Case Wires, just in case I needed a jump-start somehow.

It was my fifth day without solid food and I was experiencing hunger for the first time in my life. The feeling that my stomach was healing itself closed was what it felt like. Ice water and the liquid in that IV tube somehow didn’t quite make me a full happy man. Another man in the same ward was having his supper and I was enflamed with envy and

wondered if I could just have one bite of his supper. If I could only have walked without some kind of assistance I would have gone over and asked him for a bite. The little bowl of jelly that was for my supper was shaking itself and as it was somewhat semi-solid I could feel it wiggling its way to my stomach. It was good and the next morning some fruit juice and syrup. NO COFFEE for some reason was the command heard from the nursing station, as the aroma filled the room from that little drip coffee maker in the lounge. I wanted a cup of that coffee in the worst way. It was September the first and the next day was my birthday as well as my anniversary. I wanted out of there. If I had to continue living it would not be in the hospital. The nurse said it is better not to rush going home because there may be some side-effects that can occur. I showed her that I now could walk down the hall for about twenty feet all by myself. I was proud of that accomplishment but I didn’t know I was not far from death, as I didn’t realize just how serious an operation I had just gone through.

Happy birthday to you was heard from the three nurses on the day shift and a cupcake with a candle came into the room. After swearing an oath of secrecy a nurse smuggled me in a cup of coffee. I had it made I thought, a little more reason to be alive. The paperwork was all done and I was getting dressed. I was being released on the sixth day after surgery. I now wish that I had taken another few days. Those doctors and nurses just seemed to know a little bit more than I did, at least now and then. They were after all very special people. They were my life

givers. I heard Margie and my daughter coming into the room and I was so excited. I was going home or at least to my daughters place for about a week. I sat in the wheel chair and down in the elevator I went to the front entrance. I had my heart shaped little pillow with me that they give all patients to hug for support when they have to get up or to move around.

A week at my youngest daughters in Kingston was necessary because to stay close to the hospital was best. Three steps to the bedroom and they were an effort the first few times. Exercise daily meant to try to walk around the block. That was totally out of the question. Walk around the block? I sometimes wished I could piddle in my pants instead of going up those three steps to the bathroom. But persevere I did. I tried to make it to the corner but not quite reaching it. Those five houses felt to be about a mile apart instead of a few feet. With the help of my grandchildren I got a little exercise each day, then back to bed. Ah, I thought. Bed. No pain for a while. “Dad,” my daughter asked, “would you like to use my computer?” Oh God I am too old for computers I thought. “You can do searches for anything you like.” she said. I said, “Maybe tomorrow.”

In the morning I sat before the computer and the search engine on the screen with a blank space followed by “go”. OAHSPE was the word I had typed in, as it was a book I needed more information on. Sure enough there was the OAHSPE on line. Several pages of OAHSPE with

ANTI OAHSPE were being more prominent than all the others. But my interest was not exactly keen about anything, especially computers when I had to ask for help with each finger stroke. Each of my four children took care of me for a week at each of their homes. Each weekend my family gathered where ever I was and gave me courage and a reason to be alive. All my grandchildren were impressed with the big scar on my chest and several times a small visitor would be let in for me to show them my incision. A lot of the kids around the different neighborhoods were graced to view this mean looking scar.

Keeping positive was hard most of the time but I always tried to use some humor when I could. I felt like a lost soul a lot of the times because I made it through the operation but was in such pitiful shape I thought death would have been a better all round comfort for me and my family.

What I didn’t realize was that I was getting into one of the deepest depressions of my life and that it would last for some three years. They told me this could happen at the hospital before the operation. I was at my sons place and was going to go back to the cabin the next day. The cabin was not the place for me to be. It was just too hard for Margie and I with the constant threat of needing hospital attention. Reluctantly I agreed to stay with my son at least until I was feeling better physically. They knew what was best for me, as they did sincerely love me. All my children did and during my recovery time they let me know this many

times. I was now dependent on others and not in control of matters anymore. This was extremely hard for me to handle.

Our remaining one dog Buddy had to be put in the kennels for a long time. It was too long for a dog to be without a friend and for me to be without Buddy. We moved some of our belongings back to my son’s place and he found a place to store most of it including all my power tools. The winter was soon upon us and there was snowmobiling many evenings. The spring weather came and we found a house in Prescott to live in. It was a rented house and within our means and it was close to the post office, banks etc. We set up again and got some furniture and Buddy came home to me. He was so thin and looked so strange and bewildered. The first evening he came and pressed his head against my chest as if he was trying to get inside of me. I made a pledge to my Buddy that I would never let him alone again. To this day I have kept the promise except for a couple of times where he was with my grandchildren for a few days.

My son in-law came one day with a computer and he set it all up for me. Inside I was saying NO WAY I am too old for this new technology. But I did sit for a while and he showed me the complicated procedure of starting a computer and the even more complicated procedure to shut it down. Now when someone says to stop a computer you must click on the start button then I got thoroughly confused. Now I wrote the functions down and let the machine rest for a couple of days. He told

me that I now have the world at my fingertips and that I can search for anything I wished for. Wow!! I thought, is this for real? It was Tuesday morning and I approached the computer. I pushed the ON button and watched the computer come on. I clicked on the little telephone icons and in a minute I was on line. I did it. I was happy, and followed the instructions for shut down. Click on the start menu was written, set the pointer to shut down but first go off line. It was so complicated for me but I did it solo on this Tuesday morning. This soon was to change my life. That son in-law of mine could see something that I couldn’t. He loaned me a machine that would get my curiosity aroused, and that it did.

O-a-h-spe was typed into the search engine and within a few minutes there it was. ANTI-OAHSPE was at the head of the list, followed by a few other related sites. It was enough for me to get started with my search for a true spiritual way of life. The Oahspe became my only reading material at this time. It was the Bible of Bibles as far as I was concerned. It had page upon page of material about the Heavens and the workings of spirit beings that had such tremendous effect on our everyday lives.

This was the knowledge that I had asked for some years before. All within the nine hundred and eighty some pages within its covers. The computer led me to new frontiers of my spiritual pathway and introduced me to many new friends world over. There was an on line Oahspe group

that I joined and that got me in touch with many of the Faithists that followed the teachings of this book. Many of them I found were so far advanced spiritually that it made me shrink back in awe. Some of them were vegetarians and some of them only eat nuts and some fruit. So here I was with all my addictions, meat eating and smoking being part of a group of Faithists. They said they were not a Religion as I asked them several times. The computer now has become a valuable instrument for me and it has opened up many new avenues of thought. It also gave me the means to become friends with the people that studied the Oahspe. I did become friends of many of them and they were very wonderful people. People are wonderful but what happens to them when they become addicted is what is scary.

I have walked the aisles of many religions and in and out of many church doors. I have been there and I was a believer. I now look back at some of the beliefs that I harbored and it gives me a feeling of mixed emotions. Part of me remembers how devout I was and how right I was with the particular religion I chose all those times. Part of me now knows that there is nothing that I can do to enlighten people about their religions, as I was there. I was addicted to belief systems during those times and there was nothing in the world that could release my grip to any religion that I was in at that particular time.

This day has found me in a much better frame of mind. I have learned to

place those old belief systems away. At least I will shelve them for the next while, as now I am comfortable with the way that I see and understand God. It is not for me to even suggest that a person leave their present belief system. If they are comfortable within those walls of belief then that is where they belong. But if there are any unanswered questions lurking around your belief system, then may I advise you to seek out the answers from within your own God given heart. Fear is a biggie to anyone that begins to think outside of religious systems. A person begins to ask, “What if I’m wrong?” “What if the devil is using me?” “What if I lose my soul?” And the questions go on and on for many years if not a life time. Use the seat of reason and if the religion you belong to doesn’t measure up then you can change that. KEEP AN OPEN MIND. Don’t close off your intellect to the possibilities. Strong beliefs of a hundred years ago have been shown to be myths and superstition. Take the example of witchcraft, burnings, and human sacrifices. Again, I could go on and on.

This day leaves me a happier man and a happier family. I searched the inside of so many books and religions but found that it is these many thoughts of OTHER people that have been the restriction in my life. Choosing and following that which I create from my own thoughts is the way that I have chosen. I am not afraid, as there is nothing anymore to be afraid of.

The Sign of Jehovih as given in Oahspe