Wednesday, March 16, 2016

Goodbye to all that

At least someone will be sorry to see the wheelchair go. Notice the caked mud on the wheels.
I should've done it ages ago...at least since 2015, and perhaps as early as 2014. The wheelchair was
simply taking up space in Keith's trunk. The only thing that kept me from making the call to have the wheelchair picked up was the motivation to get around to finding the phone number.

I finally did that yesterday. And today, FedEx came by to carry the wheelchair away for good.

Good riddance to my earlier dependance!

A photo taken on our first rehab walk. Keith wheeled me between the viewing stations so I could walk the few yards to the outlets using the walker hooked onto the handles of the wheelchair.


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Coma Girl

Coma Girl

Not a miracle recovery, but a miracle of modern medicine

In 2013 I fell into a six-week coma and nearly died after I contracted legionella. The Legionnaire's disease was in turn triggered by immunosuppression caused by the prednisone I was taking for my rare autoimmune disease, dermatomyositis.

I suffered a series of strokes on both sides of my brain when the sepsis caused my blood pressure to plummet. I fell into a deep coma. My kidneys and lungs began to fail, as my body was began dying one organ at a time. My doctors told my loved ones to give up hope for my full recovery. They expected me to die, and even if I somehow lived, I would remain a vegetable or at best left so hopelessly brain-damaged that I would never be same. But unbeknownst to them, while they were shining lights in my eyes and shaking their heads, I was telling them in my coma-dream--my secular version of a near-death experience--to leave me alone because I was trying to get back to sleep. I was experiencing what is known as covert cognition, the subject of my Skeptical Inquirer article "Covert Cognition: My So-Called Near-Death Experience," which appeared in their July/August issue.

But it wasn't a miracle--despite what so many continue to believe--that I recovered so fully. I owe my life not to God, but the miracles of modern medicine, as well as the nature of the watershed-area brain damage I suffered, as I detailed in my article and in this blog.