April 29th 2021

I survived. I am surviving.

Today is the 10 year anniversary of being hospitalized after months of pain.

So many people to thank, but I will start with Dr Martin Hug from STEGH.

On April 29th 2011 that man saved my life.

For those who do not know this is a bittersweet week. Thursday is the 10th anniversary of the horror of 2011 for me. I like to stay positive, but this milestone brings back the nightmare of what happened. I am just dealingwith the memories of this "journey" .

If you would like to help me celebrate the fact that through some miracle I am alive - sometime in the next few days, please message Pam Matthews Hedden and say thank you.

She was the one who sat in that hospital with me for 18 hours while John tried to get home (from Missouri). She yelled at nurses and doctors until they realized that while they diddled around I had gone septic because my intestine had burst. 

I am forever in her debt and others as well! for all they did during the 11 months I was hospitalized.

Now it is time to thank Dr Jamie Gregor for finally taking over as my gastroenterologist again. The name of the Dr who told me to "take a laxative" was now banned from my care. It was added to the file of massive numbers of notes about me that would build and build.

Joyce Matthews is a little known hero during this day 10 years ago. She was here when they took me away in the ambulance and generously gave Pam her vehicle anytime she needed (and there were a lot) to get me to the hospital so many times. She took care of judy and fed her and so many other things I know nothing about.

My next thank you is to the ER doctor who found me sliding out of a chair in the Vic ER. 

It is a sad story indeed. I was rushed to the ER in St Thomas where a wonderful Dr Hug helped me, knew to send me by ambulance to Vic. Upon arrival I was in a bed, but was transferred to a chair in the waiting room. After being re-assessed by triage, I was deemed, once again, a non priority. So there we sat. Remember we already know the fistula had broken through my stomach wall... but there we sat. 

Pam did her best to keep me positive, even laugh while we waited. Apparently what they believed, was that made me less important. We were already 12+ hours since I realized something was really wrong.

I was still running a fever, in pain, exhausted and at that point was sliding to the floor out of my chair. Pam was on her feet and headed to beat down the nurses, when... an ER doctor passed by and immediately circled back and started asking questions.

Finally I had another doctor who was hearing me! Pam and I cried we were so happy. I was put on a gurney and heard much chatter above me but only Pam knows for sure from here, because I was finally given pain killers to relieve some of the pain and it was time to sleep.

We do not know her name, but thank you.

Thank you to my husband. Not many people know thatI met John Shannon the year I was diagnosed with Crohn's. We met and I got a summer-only job at Niagara hydro. I was gone two months, and I had alread lost 60lbs and no one could say much more than stomach flu. But, John came from London EVERY weekend even when I said to stop. He stuck with me, he kept coming, he knew what he was getting into right out of the gate. He won over my parents that summer... 

I remember "waking up" in a room not in the ER and not staffed, but knew people were coming in and out. Pam was in charge.

John arrived finally. My memory cannot tell you where he had been, just that he was there and Pam finally had someone to step in. I am sure she found out later, but JUST as she was leaving - they decided to hook me up on an IV called cipro. They shut off the lights in the room and told me to sleep.

Yup, that lasted seconds...... I screamed for John as my whole body went red and itchy, slowly I could not swallow. John was yelling for help, lights on - lots of people.

I was allergic to the IV.

Thank you to everyone who sent cards, phoned me, checked in on line and drew pictures for my room.

By asking and searching posts, I learned I had been moved into the brand spanking new surgical "B" wing of Vic hospital. Some of it wasn't even finished and was only at half capacity. In return for the slightly unfinished we were given free tv and phone and internet. Good thing because I was advised, no food, very little liquid past ice chips and I wasn't leaving for many many weeks.

Job #1 was a white board. That's where we made the Dr's and residents WRITE DOWN the plans for my care. - so we all could stay on track and I did not have to remember whatever they said while on drugs and painkillers at 6am visits!

The news from the front line 5 days after I was rushed to the hospital. I had surgery and they found a 2nd fistula. the open wound was larger than I expected! The residents announced that I was going to have to do my own dressing changes. We just laughed at them. I was up and walking and they started the anti-depressants week.

So many nurses to thank. Nameless. Faceless. The 100's of staff members who took care of me, during those weeks I do not remember.

Well on mother's day 2011 I read:

For the mother who has everything, I got 2 enemas and a colonoscopy! I am now being IV fed (I call it giggle juice because that is what I have been doing) so now they have to test my sugars every 6 hours! Not too bad a day. I even got my hair washed by the nurse. The infection is under control now so I am sleeping a lot less.

So many special diagnostic people that ran so many tests. Those pediatric nurses who had to be called up to do my bloodwork and tests because I passed out when they came near me. Specialists who can run and read xrays, colonoscopy results and catscans.

I thank all of them.

Like I expected an emotional day,

But I went into it knowing and

Kept myself busy with recipes.

Now it is almost 2am

And I need some sleep.

Good night from John Street