Just to start this is not video game related. But as this is a site centered around video games I will be making a lot of game references to keep with the theme. As many of you know for the past month I was in the hospital. This is a blog about my entire experience.

It all began with a minor discomfort that slowly got worse and worse. Eventually my health began to deteriorate as my condition worsened. Without my knowledge I was hit BIO and it slowly ate away at me. Being the stubborn person that I am I hid the fact tthat I was constantly in pain and growing weaker and weaker.

Finally my condition reached CRITICAL and my father put his foot down and took me to the hospital. There I was moved from room room before a doctor talked to me. Telling me I was in bad shape and in need of surgery. Within in an hour of hearing those words I was on a stretcher being taken to surgery. The last thing I saw was the doctor putting the gas mask on me telling me everything was going to be fine.

The next thing I remember is waking up in a strange room with wires all over, machines beeping, and in a tube in my mouth. But lucky for me a lot the friendly NPCs and PARTY MEMBERS I had met over the course of my 25 year journey were around me, to comfort me. Nothing better than a friendly face to keep you from freaking out and hurting yourself. But it sucks to have all that shattered when the doctor tells you it was almost GAME OVER. Turns out I was in worse shape than I though. Reduced to 1 HP by my condition. But the surgeons hit me with CURAGA and brought me back from deaths door.



The next week and a half was hell. I was beyond weak, constantly tired, and had an uncomfortable plastic hose in my mouth. Talking was beyond impossible, but it didn't stop me from trying. On top of all that I was being fed through a tube in my arm by a small plastic bag full of liquid. It doesn't take long for a person to miss real food, especially when a commercial for McDonalds, AppleBees, IHOP, and just about any place that sells food comes up every 6 minutes.

Eventually the doctors deemed me strong enough to be able to breath on my own. I was happy to see the nurse that day as she was going to remove the tube. The happiness I felt quickly vanished as the nurse ripped the tube out of my throat. It felt as if she pulled my esophagus out. I was not ready for that at all. Nor was I ready for what came next. Turns out the doctors jumped the gun. I was still having trouble breathing, which meant the tube was going to have to go back in. I didn't want to go through that hell again so I asked the doctors to put me under until it was time to remove the tube. It only took 2 days and the tube was ripped out again, but I was finally free.

I was still unable to really speak. I could force out a soft word or two, but I was in no condition for Ron level banter. I was still being fed by the plastic bag as my throat healed, but I was beyond thirsty. I was not even allowed water because of the condition of my throat. After 2 days I was allowed a cup of ice chunks which I devoured like a man lost in the desert. The little bit of water I got from the ice melting felt so good. As the days passed my throat got better and I was given more ice, and finally water. But Ron NEEDED FOOD BADLY. That bag just wasn't cutting it any more. After a couple days I was greeted by my nutritionist. She asked me the greatest question on the planet. What do you want to eat for breakfast? I was beyond happy.

The next couple of days wasn't too bad, but I bega to realize all the things I had taken for granted. Namely real food. Because I was still rather low on HP the doctors didn't want me to strain myself with chewing and whatnot. So I was on what they called a "soft" diet. Basically it was jello, mashed potatoes, and some random soup of the day for lunch and dinner. Breakfast on the other hand was eggs, some random mush, and milk. I was happy to have food finally, mainly the jello because that's all I really ate, but the other stuff was just a waste. Especially seeing as my taste buds were screwed up and most of it tasted horrible, weird, or like nothing at all.

Leave it to my father to drop and obvious bomb on me. He made a comment that I really needed to eat more because I became so skinny, and that's when I really looked at myself. The bag that was feeding me is basically a weight watchers wet dream. It has no fat and no calories. So basically combine a lack of really eating with a 2 weeks of trim spa in a bag. And on top of that being laid up and so in active caused a lose of muscle mass. I was thick, and it was muscle with a small percentage of fat. I went from 245 lbs down to 198lbs in 2 weeks. I lost all my STATS. My SKILLS are useless because I barely have the strength to use them. But at least my sense of humor remained at the same LEVEL.

The following week pulled me out of my skinny boy slump when my nutritionist paid me another visit. Because my HP and strength were slowly returning every day, the doctors deemed me strong enough to be able to handle solid foods. She asked me what I wanted, and after a slew of food commercials I told her burgers, pizza, and anything that isn't what I'm currently eating now. Dinner that night was awesome. Spaghetti with meatballs, more jello, and chocolate cake.

The joy of finally getting real food didn't last long. The routine of being in ICU drained it all from me. Wake up at 6, wait till 7:30, eat breakfast, cut on tv, watch Good Day LA, watch 2 hours of news, watch AFV, eat lunch, watch AFV again, watch 2 hours of I Love Lucy, more news, People's Court, TMZ, followed by even more news, finally dinner, the an hour of My Name is Earl, and finally The Office. After that 8pm was a crap shoot depending on what day it was. But this routine carried over even when I finally got out of ICU, on the plus side I found a channel that would occasionally show a good movie, like Universal Soldier: The Return. But like I said my time in and out of ICU would have been much worse if it wasn't for the friendly NPCs and my PARTY MEMBERS keeping me company, keeping me sane.

At this point my strength and HP had returned to the point that I was able to get out of bed and walk around with the aid of a walker. But after a few days of doing this I built up enough XP to level up walking to the unassisted level. I still needed someone with me in case my legs gave out, but I no longer needed the walker to rest on or for balance. Now that I was up and walking it was only a matter of time before I would be released from this place. While waiting to hear from my doctors I killed time by talking walks with my mom and by boring myself to death with my daily routine.

Tuesday afternoon my doctors finally showed. They told me I was doing great, I had made great progress, and that I was fit to go home. They told me Thursday I would be scheduled for release. It took a lot of effort to hold back my smile. Wednesday rolled around and I was still as excited as I was Tuesday, at least I was until one of the doctor's assistants dropped a bomb on me. Turns out they wanted me to have a PICC line in my arm so I can continue getting my antibiotics while I was at home. FYI, a PICC line is a tube with 1 to 3 leads on it that stick out of your arm, while a length of tube is inserted through a hole in your arm and guided to your heart. Pretty cool ACCESSORY, right? Anyway, he said the doctor responsible for putting it in wouldn't be in till Thursday, so my release date was pushed back to Saturday. I would have been pissed but I just laughed it off because one of my PARTY MEMBERS kept telling me I was never going to get out of there and they were going to keep pushing my release date back, it also helped that he was standing beside me when I got the news.

Thursday rolled around and I got to watch as I was numbed, stabbed, and had over a foot of tube feed through my arm to my heart. After that it was just a waiting game. I found taking random naps sped up the day, which was cool, but it ruined my night, which sucked. Lucky for me the hospital offers medicine to ease the pain, and medicine to CAST SLEEP on your tired ass. So as I would lay there awake and bored, till 3, I would hit the nurse call button and ask for her to come in and CAST SLEEP on me. Now I could have called at 12, but I would have been woken up by the nurse coming to check my blood pressure and temperature at 3 in the F$%KING morning. So after that waste of time I would hit the button, wait a couple of minutes, then slowly drift off into the darkness. You see, while in that place I did not dream. It was just darkness until I opened my eyes again, at 6, or 6:15. This sleep thing also was routine, except in ICU I was woken up by some douche bags coming to take some x-rays at 3 in the F$%KING morning.

Thursday went by quick, and Friday was too. It all started out fine. Me and my mom played some cards to break up the daily routine, we went for a walk, I took an hour nap, then this bitch showed up. I shouldn't be angry with her, but I'm petty and I need to blame something or someone when things don't go right and it's not my fault. But basically this lady in charge of home care comes in around 6 and tells me she is sorry but I'm not going to get released until Monday because they need to set my home care up, but it's too late in the day to do it now, and they aren't open on the weekend. I wanted to jump out of the bed and hit her with an ULTRA COMBO, but my SPECIAL GAUGE was pretty much empty. I just sat there pissed. I told my mom when she returned to the room. But it is ok. Saturday went by rather fast. I watched my cartoons, then I slept. I took multiple 1 - 2 hour naps. When night time rolled around I forced myself to sleep by having the nurses cut up the AC and kicking all the covers off my body. When the final night nurse came to do her part of my nightly routine I asked for SLEEP, and went straight out. Sunday is a different story though. This is the most boring day on the planet, especially if you can't go anywhere, have no games, and the TV is shit. But after a few hours of infomercials I was able to enact my nap/drugs plan and slept my way through that day.

Finally it was Monday. The home care lady came in around 11am and told us everything was taken care of and the nurse should be in to wheel me down to freedom. I put on real clothes for the first time in a month. It felt good to be completely covered vs. running around with in those stupid gowns with my ass hanging out. Around 1 the nurse appeared with my wheel chair. My mom grabbed her stuff and went down to get the ca to meet us at the exit. I climbed into my freedom train, and enjoyed the ride as I said goodbye to my prison, to my savior. Even though I was dying to get out of there because it was such a boring place, I found it hard to hate it because coming here is what gave me my life back. My HP was at 75%, my STATS were slowly returning to normal, and I was actually really happy. We finally reached the bottom floor, and after a few hallways and turns, we were at the patient exit. When the doors opened I felt a gentle breeze roll in. And as corny as it sounds, it felt good. We rolled outside and I looked around to take in all I had been missing. When you are trapped indoors for so long you notice all the things you took for granted when you are finally let outside. As I looked at the clouds my mom pulled up. I hopped in the car and we headed home.

Now I am on the final part of my recovery. My activities have been limited by my low STATS and by the open wound that has to heal on it's own. This is where home care comes in. They supply the drugs and medical supplies, while my parents take care of me. It's not something I'm too happy about seeing as I'm 25, but hey I don't want to go back to that hospital. So if my parents have to baby me, so be it. I get to be in my own bed, I get to eat whenever I want, and most importantly I have my XBOX. So no matter how long my recovery period lasts, I will at least be in an area where I am happy and comfortable, and I appreciate it. Because like a downed transformer revived by the power of the matrix, I faced death but I fought through, because like Nick, from L4D2, says I've come to far to die now.


Yes I mentioned the whole Transformers thing just to have an excuse to post this picture. Why? Because I got the touch, I got the power...YEAH!!!