"Knockin On Heaven's Door"

"Knocking on Heaven's Door", a song by Bob Dylan and Eric Clapton, has always been one of my favorite songs. And to be honest (and this will be brutally so) I have been knocking on that door for awhile now. The only question I had was when Jesus opened that door, would He say, "welcome home" or "get back out there and take care of business."

The last couple of weeks, that question got answered for me.

I haven't felt well for quite awhile, chalking it up to working too much, not eating right, etc. etc. Right before Christmas, I started feeling even worse. I made it through Christmas and even New Year's, although I spent most of my time working or in bed.

The way I was feeling, I just knew I had pneumonia - you see, pneumonia and I have battled it out several times before, so I was familiar with the symptoms.

My oldest daughter tried to convince me to let her take me to the ER Friday, January 3. Still, I told her I thought if I just laid down for a bit I would be okay. After all, that was my go to - don't feel good - sleep it off. Besides, I had too much work to do. I didn't have time for such "nonsense".

It didn't work this time.

By the next morning the severe stomach cramping I had been experiencing would not go away and had become  unbearable. The next thing I knew, (and this is graphic) I was throwing up black coffee looking stuff. Needless to say, it scared me a bit.

I hollered at my daughter and asked if she could still get me to the urgent care. Once there, they would send me to the ER saying I needed more care than they were able to do.

We went to the ER and they began talking about sending me to a different hospital for possible emergency surgery. Due to the weather, however, they couldn't get me out. It was confirmed I had pneumonia and on top of that, I had a small bowel blockage.

They put in an NG tube (not a fun experience at all - more of a nightmare) and got me in a room. Let's just say my experience at this hospital was not good. I was kept there for around five days and then sent home after being told the problem had been resolved, even though I was still vomiting and told them several times I just did not feel right.

Fortunately, I went home with my youngest daughter. Once again, the "black stuff" began to come up. She took me to the ER in Meade and after running a few tests, the doctor there said she knew what the problem was and I needed to be transferred out.

Flight for life was called and another NG tube put in. When the flight crew arrived from Denver, Colo., I was packed up like a papoose and loaded on to a very small plane.

I soon found myself at Baptist St. Anthony in Amarillo, Texas. Shortly after my arrival, I was taken to surgery. From what I have been told about the surgery - it was not fun for me at all. I will spare you the graphics of that one.

When I woke up, I learned I required the surgery because the blockage was still there - it had never been fixed. Not only that, my bowel was twisted, I had sepsis and aspiration pneumonia. My potassium was at critical low levels.

My blood pressure has been repeatedly running high, my oxygen level has been bouncing up and down.

But I'm still here.

And it all started, I'm told, in large part due to scar tissue from previous procedures.

Each day since has been a trial. Recovery has taken longer than I expected. Not only physically, but mentally as well.

I thank God each day for my three daughters who made sure everything was taken care of. They all sacrificed time with their families and from their jobs, to take care of me. The healthcare background of two of my daughters has proven to be invaluable and they jumped right in even when it was care I never thought my children would have to do for me. My oldest child, rolled up her sleeves and with Shawn and Elizabeth, they kept the Ulysses News going. I'm thankful for all of them and the job they did in my absence.

I thank God for the phone calls, texts, visits ..... and most of all, the prayers I have received from so many. And I apologize for not responding to everyone - I have been up and down in how I have felt both mentally and physically.

I am thankful for my sister who provided me with a safe haven to recover in.

I am so very thankful for the support system I have had during this whole ordeal. And an ordeal it has been. I cannot tell you how much each and everyone's support has meant to me.

I am thankful for the staff at the Meade District Hospital, the crew on the Flight for Life, and the staff at BSA in Amarillo. Thank you for taking care of me.

It has been an experience I never wish to repeat again; unfortunately, however, they tell me it is very possible it could repeat itself if I'm not careful. There is a long road ahead and a lot to learn and new habits which need to replace the old. Not sure how good this "old dog" will be about "new tricks", but I will try.

Mentally it is taking its toll knowing just how close I came. And now every time I am nauseous. Every time I have stomach cramps or a severe headache - it panics me just a bit. PTSD perhaps wondering if round two is upon me.

I knocked on Heaven's door really hard this time. In fact, I think it would be safe to say I was literally banging on it. And as I sit here today, I am still wondering why God left me here. I know there has to be a reason, I just wish that reason was more clear to me.

So, until I have a more definitive answer - I'll get back in there. I'll keep trying to take care of business. And I will wait until it is time - His time - to tell me "welcome home.