I've decided to write some words about what happened some weeks ago. You might not find it interesting though, but I want to thank everyone who was involved.Actually it all started with something very unpleasant. My fiancée for 6 years decided to leave me, and suddenly my life came apart. Everything I had believed, and trusted was blown to hell, and I couldn't believe what was happening! It appeared that he had something going on with a "friend" of mine, and that he had "lost" his feelings for me. It broke my heart into a thousand tiny pieces, since I had believed his words saying; "You have to believe what I tell you when I say I'm going to stay with you. You have to trust me!"... Yes, I actually trusted him, and 2 days later it was all over. While the "storm" was going on, I actually found out that he had sent her flowers, and even bought her a gold necklace (while buying my birthday present), which I was never meant to know about.. That hurt too! Now my beautiful golden rose necklace, and my dried longstemmed roses, which I got for my 23rd birthday, mean nothing to me. Knowing that he bought a gift like that for someone else, at the same time he bought my gift.. *shaking my head*I could have written a lot more here, but I've decided not to. First of all, because I don't want to blacken him - even though he treated me like shit over the last few months. And second of all, because I don't want to go through everything once again. It's about a month ago, but it's sore and I'm hurting. Everyone tells me that time will heal the pain, but I'm not sure.. my wounds are deep, and my trust has been abused.It's difficult to be alone after living with a wonderful man for 6 years. But I don't ever want to relive the last months with him - the feeling of being betrayed is horrible, and then discovering that your most feared horrors are coming true, that you should have trusted your intuition.. that's a truly horrible feeling! And when you realize that someone you deeply trusted, and loved, could do something like this to you, your first thought is to lay down and die..Still, I have to say that I'm doing quite fine.

Of course it hurts, and it will for a very long time - no one can forget 6 years just like that, even though bad things has happened, but I have fatih in myself, and I believe I'm a strong person - who will get through this allright. I have to take time, and time will heal my wounds, I know. I'll have my ups and downs, but mostly I'll be OK. And, to see something positive in between everything negative; it's nice to be alone too - you can do whatever you want, when you want to do it! SmileOK, so I got a terrible mental blow - and of course it took down my immune defence, resulting in severe pneumonia. At first I believed that it was just a simble cold, and I started drinking strong drinks with hunny. I didn't get any better, rather worse, and one day my chest got all "clogged up" - I couldn't draw my breath. My mom decided to call the ambulance, asking them to bring oxygene, and so we did. They came within 45 minutes, it was Harald and Hilde, and when they say me and my condition, they decided to call the doctor on duty, which happened to be a lady called Natalia, and ask her to come and check me out. After some struggling, she finally came, and she wanted me to go to the hospital to get a real check - by this time I hadn't been eating anything for a whole week.At first I really didn't want to go to the hospital. Mainly because I always get even sicker when I'm there, but also because she wanted to send me by regular ambulance, and that's a four hour drive! After arguing for a while, the ambulance personell refused to drive me that far in my condition and the doctor said there was no other way, they finally managed to get an arrangement by helicopter (that's a 20 minute flight).. So, an hour or so later, we were ready to go, and the ambulance drove to the landing space, where I was loaded into the helicopter by a very nice anaesthesia doctor called Nisse, and another nice man called Gard took care of me during the flight. SmileWhen we arrived at the airport (the helicopter is not allowed to land on the roof of the hospital anymore), another ambulance was waiting for me, to drive me and my mom to the hospital. The driver was named Stian, and the very handsome man in the back with me, was called Tor Jørgen (tall and dark.. around my age). Smile They drove me to the hospital, and when I finally arrived there, I was brought into a room where they started performing tests on me. Unfortunately I can't remember the names of these people, but they were very nice, all of them. The first thing the nurse wanted was a sample of my blood - and that's one of the worst things I know of! I didn't bother to argue with her, and I was actually keen to know what was wrong with me, so I let her draw my blood. At first she wasn't able to find a vain, and that resulted in me almost passing out! I didn't realize, until one of the nurses asked me if I was OK, because my lips were turning pale.. Horrible. So they tried my other arm, and that was much better. After that they did some other tests, and asked a lot of questions. Then I was transferred to R3 (for people with lung problems), where we stayed from Wednesday evening, until early Monday morning.During the next days, quite a lot of things happened.

I got some medicine I wasn't supposed to have, which almost made me drown.. My lungs filled with everything that had been stuck, and it kept me coughing for more than 12 hours straight. I really thought I was going to die, and in the end I was totally drained with strenght. I couldn't cough anymore, and it was horrible. A very nice woman called Solfrid, looked after us all the time. That night they moved me into the cardiac ward, because my condition got worse. I can't even remember very much from that part of my visit to the hospital, all I remember is that I couldn't draw my breath.. Tor Magnus was the name of the nurse that took care of me and my mom that night, and there was also a very nice woman, whom I didn't catch the name of.. I believe she was Danish, but I might be wrong.The next morning a doctor, named Terje Tollåli, came to check on my lungs. He said that he couldn't hear anything. At first I was happy, I thought it was a good thing, but later I learned that it only meant that my lungs were completely blocked. It was actually so bad that the doctors considered to open my wind pipe, and do what's called a "Trakeostomi" in Norwegian. That's a horrible thought, and I'm glad it never went that far. They also considered hooking me to a respirator, which meant druging me to make me sleep for two days and nights, placing a tube down my troath, down into my lungs to clear them. They did an x-ray of my lungs, and quite right - my left lung was all white on the x-ray, which meant that it was blocked. Then it was decided that we should be moved, once again, this time to the Intensive Care Unit

I can't begin to tell how much I liked it there. OK, so there was a lot of people who had been victims of horrible accidents, but the staff.. oh, the nicest people put on this earth! I was still quite dazzled, so unfortunately I can't remember the names of all the people that took great care of me during the three days and nights I stayed there. I have to mention Jorunn, who went out of her way to get me anything I desired, and frequently used her "contacts in the Underworld". Morten, who managed to keep my mother calm inspite of the air bubbles in my tubes. Nina, who was on duty at night, and looked carefully after me, even though I was very mad at her for disturbing me while sleeping. Erna, for being so nice to me, and getting that very calm and sweet anaesthesia doctor, Stefan. One of the nights, I think it might have been the first night there, I almost froze to death. I had my intravenous right next to the window, and because I was having a fever, I had asked to have it opened. Well, we forgot the window, and during the night it became freezing outside - and as a result, the bags of liquids and medicine almost froze, dripping ice cold liquid straight into my blood. My whole body was "frozen", and I was dripping with sweat at the same time. It took several hours, and plenty of massaging by mom, to bring the heat back into me.. another horrible experience.Now they decided to move us again, for the third time, back down to the cardiac ward.

(Note: 18/10/03 - I never got to finish this blog, I regret this, but can't re-tell it anymore.)

Posted by Shamini on November 29, 2002 – 10:48 PM

Filed under: 2002-2005 Leave a comment
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