Hi Honey(ies), I'm home.

I'm not sure how much I can get out right now because nothing in my body seems to working in conjunction. I can think the words, but getting them typed is turning into quite a challenge.

Mostly, I just wanted to express my humble gratitude for the caring thoughts and support you all have sent my way. I especially want to thank Sparky and smonster for calling me in the hospital. In my drugged and traumatized state, hearing of their, and your, concern meant the world to me.

Also, my landlord...my landlord was the first to visit me in the hospital. I was incredibly touched. On the list of traumatic events in my life, this runs about second, maybe third.

In a twistedly morbid way, I wish someone had filmed the scene in the ER so that they could show it every Halloween. Please don't imagine even the shadow of my usual smile when I say that. It was truly gruesome. I don't think my loving friend J will ever be able to look at me the same. He was a hero though, in every way.

The short story is that the infection in my toe had gone septic and was traveling up my leg. They took xrays to determine if the bone was compromised and and an untold amount of blood to check for organ infiltration. I haven't heard any of that results and am not sure when I will.

I am grateful to a new friend who suggested that I go to Sibley, the 'fancy' upper DC hospital. That move turned out to have saved my life. From entering the ER door, it was much less than 30 minutes before they began treatment.

That bad part is that I put them through a lot. None of them had seen anything like what I presented them with my needle problem. The fact that my temperature was 104 made it impossible to take care of people's reactions they way I usually do when needles are involved.

I was a terrified, begging, sweating, struggling, infantile Mrs. Hyde.

People who can casually say 'I have a phobia' are generally folks who have an intense aversion for something. Medical staff see that kind of thing all the time. They had never seen me.

There were 8 people all over me, so my panic skyrocketed. One male nurse lost his patience and things exploded. Everybody was yelling at everyone else AND at me.

Suddenly, one doctor sort of stopped time and said, 'You are right. I don't understand. Please help me understand.' So, in 4 sentences I was able to help them see how I simply can't be rational about what they were doing for me, despite the fact that I am a highly rational person.

I begged them to tie me down so that I could not harm them, or myself and looked that same doctor in the eye and said, "If you leave the iv in my arm, I swear to you, I will wake up in the night and tear it out without even knowing it. Please, please tie me down.

Everyone backed off and that is when Atavan became my friend. I had a LOT of Atavan plus a little Valium over the next days. I could still be lucid...sort of...but it made it possible for me to leave the iv in my hand. My friend just kept repeating, it's here to help you, it's your friend.

The rest of the adventure involved keeping no nutrition in my system for 3 days, not being able to move properly, gaining 7 lbs in two days with no food involved, and whitefonted for grossness unexpected, completely unannounced diarrhea . Oh, and the first bill I've gotten is $164 for 8 pill of the FOURTH antibiotic I have taken in three days. The hospital graciously did not give me the bill when I left but they did give me an application for financial aid. Please pray for a positive result on that front. Details to follow.

My lungs started filling with fluid yesterday and I was unable to sleep on my back, but my friend M, an acpuncturist gave me a treatment today that fixed that right up!

When I came home last night, my friends had stocked the fridge (Blessed Applesauce!!) and set up an Isak Dinesen inspired beside table. It's so elegant and lovely with a beautiful Chinese lamp, handmade basket for tissues, my reading glasses and my favorite orchid.

Bartleby is (continued...)

( continues...) at summer camp with M&J's two Greyhounds and is, from all report (I'm promised picture) having the time of his life. Give my chaotic movements, it's better he isn't hear, but god, I ache from missing him.

I've had a good nap, several visits today and a buddy is coming over to watch something with me. Laughter is her prescription.

So, dear ones, I didn't die, though it looked rough there for a while. And I am so grateful for all of your support. Just knowing you are out there makes everything so much better.

I apologize for what will surely be ungrammatical meandering. I'm not sure how long it will take for the drugs to wear off.

Blessings to you all. It's good to be home.

Oh my lord, Bonnie. I am so glad to see your pixels, and so so glad for your friend with the hospital advice. Meander all you want.

I vote we make the guy attend the next F2F prom wearing a name tag saying who he is. Also, we should make him wear a really unflattering polyester leisure suit, and make him drink 3.2 beer. I'm pretty sure the dirty looks alone would cause repenting.

Andi, you are my fucking hero. Will Daniel mind if I marry your brain?

It's good to have you home. Infections can be scary things.

Septic, Bonnie?? Jeez, I'm glad you went to the hospital when you did, then! But yeowch, the rest sounds pretty awful!

Bonny, as one who went through the exact same thing from a septic infection--though blessedly not to the same degree--we're glad to have you back and don't be so silly about taking care of things next time. I had the good luck to pass out in a hospital when Hubby was in for another treatment, or I could have gotten to your state. But it was bad enough, and there were worries about my heart and fluid build up. It's frightening how sick you can be while feeling mostly OK--until it's very nearly too late.

bonny, that is some scary shit there. I'm very glad you're home and recovering.

Seriously scary shit! Bonny, take it easy and keep recovering!

ION,

Darb and I had a decent day. A progressive day, or something. I took her to a dog daycare this morning for a trial run. She spent so much time in shelters that being in that kind of environment is incredibly difficult for her. (Not that the daycare isn't a nice facility, but the size and smells and all.) This one is run by the same person who runs her rescue group, so she'd been the for a few weeks before she got into a foster home, so I hoped that would help. I'm not sure it did. It was good that people there remembered her, but for her, dunno.

But they said she did okay - they kept her in a small pen with only a couple of dogs, and she made some movements toward playing and being social. I'm not 100% sure that was the right approach - at the dog park, she really dives in with the big dogs.

But when we did training at another day care facility, it took two or three sessions before she unfroze, so they might be right. She was very very tense and upset when I picked her up, just like the first time at the other place. Brigid, who runs the daycare and the rescue, thought it was good progress and we should try her for a full day soon.

She's probably right - we went out and hung on a patio today and she was fine, not nervous when people approached her or anything. So she shook it off fast.

Gah. It's just so hard to see her like that. I told myself because she loves playing with dogs and because she knows that place and the people that she wouldn't freeze up. I knew that wasn't true. But I didn't realize how much I hoped it was.

Baby girl, why are you so broken? Who fucked you up, and why can't I fix it better?

How's it going with the turbo CPAP?

Getting used to it, I guess. last night it acted up, and after awhile I woke up and became aware of it just holding a low constant pressure, rather than the forced breathing pulse. I worry that I reset something, so I am going to unplug the power later and plug it in and try it again tonight. If it happens again? Calling the 24-hour hotline.