My Story: Respiratory Failure
Where do I start. Don't know if anyone will ever read this, so here it goes! I'm 62, have been diagnosed about five-six years now. At first it really wasn't a big deal, told to where oxygen which of course I didn't. Well as it progressed in to lower oxygen levels down into the sixties, I was having quite a time just bending over to tie my shoes, but in total denial. Well it didn't do any good to be stubborn, just made it worst. I started to get bluish in color and my wife, whom is a nurse, told me over and over to get to the ER.
So one day I went to the Dr 's office, just a walk-in and he took my ox levels and said get to the ER. So I did. That's when I realized I was in serious trouble; don't remember much after that. Woke up in a different hospital after seven weeks in an induced coma and I'll tell you I was so weak I couldn't pop a soda can or lift it. Now, I still was on the vent and needed them to remove the feeding tube that was in my nose. I asked them and they did. I started breathing on my own and they took me off the vent. I was told only one Dr. thought I would live. The family was making plans for a funeral, being told that by them, but I was very lucky to have pulled through.
Well, I do stay on my ox now, and I use a vent at night because of sleep apnea with a mask. But I do still have my treah which I want to have out, but do not want to go through that again if I fail again. So, listen to your Dr. folks! It's a long road to recovery and this is a progressive disease. So it's still a long road, but now I keep my eyes, you could say, on the road.
Join the conversation