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Today I'd like to talk about missing time.
By missing time I don't mean like missing time with friends and family or going out and doing things but rather missing time as in it was deleted entirely from your memory. I would wager all of us have days or weeks we cannot remember out of trauma or out of a desire to forget. In my case, I specifically want to remember but I just can't. It is almost like it deleted itself entirely from my brain.
I am speaking about the time between March 6th and April 1st 2023.
This would be roughly my first few weeks in the hospital.
The thing that was upsetting me the most about not being able to remember wasn't just the fact that I couldn't remember it but that my family and friends knew and refused to tell me what happened. I would ask what happened and they would change the subject or act like they didn't know what I was talking about. I was getting angrier and more paranoid that there was something wrong and they were keeping it from me.
So I pushed my best friend to tell me, because out of everyone she has never lied to me. She did try to hold out for awhile, but she eventually did cave and tell me what happened to me and to be honest I wish I hadn't asked.
This community knows I went into the hospital on March 5th, Prim and I believe Lethen tried to reach out to my family during this week to find out what happened to me since they knew I was sick. Which led to a hilarious conversation with my cousins Jennifer and Dawn about "Who the F "Prim" aka Prim's RL name was and how he knew me and I had to explain what Europeia and Nationstates was while doped up. 10/10 experience btw.
What I did not know was that on March 6th I was considered borderline dead because of dehydration and the pneumonia, so much so that I was rushed to ICU early on March 7th where my heart completely stopped and I completely coded out.
At one point, I was declared dead.
I was defibulated twice.
On March 9th I coded a second time, this time for just over a minute. I was defibulated a third time.
On March 11th I was seen by my family and friends for the first time with multiple IVs, breathing mask and the whole nine. I, a non-religious person, apparently asked my family to pray for me during this visit that I don't remember.
Sometime in Mid March, my best friend believes it was around the week of St. Patrick's Day, my CO2 levels jumped and my heart rated plummeted and they were worried I was going to code a third time and they were also concerned I wouldn't survive this time.
By early April I had recovered enough to be moved from the ICU to the Trauma/Step Down unit.
Guys I wish I knew how to end this with a happy note or something but to be honest learning all of that has thrown me for a loop and has definitely scared me even more. Yes I know I am still here and yes I know I should be proud or humble or grateful to still be here after all that but really I am just scared that I could go through all of that and not know.
By missing time I don't mean like missing time with friends and family or going out and doing things but rather missing time as in it was deleted entirely from your memory. I would wager all of us have days or weeks we cannot remember out of trauma or out of a desire to forget. In my case, I specifically want to remember but I just can't. It is almost like it deleted itself entirely from my brain.
I am speaking about the time between March 6th and April 1st 2023.
This would be roughly my first few weeks in the hospital.
The thing that was upsetting me the most about not being able to remember wasn't just the fact that I couldn't remember it but that my family and friends knew and refused to tell me what happened. I would ask what happened and they would change the subject or act like they didn't know what I was talking about. I was getting angrier and more paranoid that there was something wrong and they were keeping it from me.
So I pushed my best friend to tell me, because out of everyone she has never lied to me. She did try to hold out for awhile, but she eventually did cave and tell me what happened to me and to be honest I wish I hadn't asked.
This community knows I went into the hospital on March 5th, Prim and I believe Lethen tried to reach out to my family during this week to find out what happened to me since they knew I was sick. Which led to a hilarious conversation with my cousins Jennifer and Dawn about "Who the F "Prim" aka Prim's RL name was and how he knew me and I had to explain what Europeia and Nationstates was while doped up. 10/10 experience btw.
What I did not know was that on March 6th I was considered borderline dead because of dehydration and the pneumonia, so much so that I was rushed to ICU early on March 7th where my heart completely stopped and I completely coded out.
At one point, I was declared dead.
I was defibulated twice.
On March 9th I coded a second time, this time for just over a minute. I was defibulated a third time.
On March 11th I was seen by my family and friends for the first time with multiple IVs, breathing mask and the whole nine. I, a non-religious person, apparently asked my family to pray for me during this visit that I don't remember.
Sometime in Mid March, my best friend believes it was around the week of St. Patrick's Day, my CO2 levels jumped and my heart rated plummeted and they were worried I was going to code a third time and they were also concerned I wouldn't survive this time.
By early April I had recovered enough to be moved from the ICU to the Trauma/Step Down unit.
Guys I wish I knew how to end this with a happy note or something but to be honest learning all of that has thrown me for a loop and has definitely scared me even more. Yes I know I am still here and yes I know I should be proud or humble or grateful to still be here after all that but really I am just scared that I could go through all of that and not know.
I know you know this, but I'm going to keep saying this ... I'm just extremely grateful that you were in the right place where you could get the help that you needed to get you through all of that. I know having that lapse in time is scary and I wouldn't wish it on anyone, but if the choice is not remembering a month vs. not being here at all, I am glad that you are still around to send me memes, silly birb pictures, and immaculate grid answers
You may not know how to end things with a happy note, but for me, that IS the happy note. Here we are 10 months later or so, and you're able to tell us about this and talk about it. I can't really think of a happier way to end a story talking about such scary health related things!
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I can see how that must be really distressing not to know what happened and then terrifying to hear what did. I can't even begin to imagine what an ordeal it all must have been, so feeling scared is more than valid as a response, but as Lloen said I'm just glad you've made it through the worst and we have our Obee <3
Lethen
Nissan: commendable cars for Commended players
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I know we talked about this privately before you posted, but this is so bananas and it must be so discomforting to know you have zero memory of this time. Do you think it'll ever come back?
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Honestly I don't know, my therapist thinks its less because of trauma and more because of the medicine I was given thats blocking it out. I hope that ill be able to remember some of it
Lethen
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I imagine some will come back
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