As the ball dropped in New York City’s Time Square, 2014 dawned filled with promise – promise that turned to ashes in too short of a time.
Physically and mentally, as this year began, it had an aura that this would be the best year for my over all health that I had enjoyed in well over a decade. The ebullience which ran through the corridors of mind and the hallways of my body portended a year like I had thought would never come again.
The energy, the pep, was coursing through my veins. The abyss upon which I had stood for too long seemed to melt away into a nightmare dispelled by a new day and a new year.
Then the pendulum swung violently from serenity and happiness to the extreme of full scale physical assault. As the Cornfield and the rest of the nation continued to dig out from what seemed to be a winter that would never end, I was transported to Regional Hospital to spend nearly 10 days at the beginning of April. The spring seemed to have disappeared replaced what gave an offending fume of fall demise.
My sense of well being dissipated in an instant as exacerbated COPD and pneumonia played havoc with my body. At times I wondered if I would ever recover.
As quickly as the pendulum swung to the dark side, it moved again this time to shades of clover and sunshine. But that was only with my physical body.
Mentally, the night continued to encroach at times as the spring gave way to summer. At times in desperation I would voice my desire to quit, stop trying. One of those times when I vented on Facebook, it had a chilling effect on many of my online friends.
That cry of desperation lead to frantic calls to the local law enforcement to ascertain whether I had finally lost it indeed. A call came on my home phone from Team iReport headquarters at CNN in Atlanta, Georgia.
Backpedaling and explaining, I noted this was one way of dealing with the war inside of me. It is only when I didn’t voice the turmoil when there was need of concern.
Naturally, I was highly appreciative of those worried about me. The calls, the reaching out, the messages helped to stabilize my mental anguish.
Within hours I was back to commenting on things political, social or ideological. I had once more found my footing – though briefly.
The second full month of summer found me once more locked in what turned out to be a life and death struggle physically with myself. I spent the month, with brief one or two day respites, in Regional Hospital. The doctors trying desperately to determine what had caused my downturn.
A threat of cancer reared its ugly head. One of my ear, nose and throat specialists thought my larynx was being eaten away with a malignant tumor. Thankfully, he was wrong.
A biopsy of my voicebox revealed on September 2 that I was suffering from histoplasmosis – a fungal infection which does kill if left untreated. In early September that treatment began, putting me on a course of year-long treatment and the ability to return home. Sadly, the infection had spread throughout my body. Now it is a question of time to ascertain if it was caught in time.
For the next couple of months, slowly I returned to what is normal for me. All was looking well as 2014 was edging near to the end. I was wrong.
On the Saturday before Christmas, once more I found myself in Regional Hospital. This time, even I thought I would not make it home alive.
I arrived in the ER before midnight on that Saturday nearly two weeks ago. In the early Sunday morning around 4 a.m. I was taken to the 3rd floor of Regional, to transfer to the 5th floor on Monday. I remember asking the nurse in those wee hours if I was dying. This time around I was sure my time was up.
The next thing I remember with certainty was waking on Christmas Day, December 25, 2014. I had lost those four days. Iohn tells me I was on some heavy medication during that time, including doses of morphine. I remember nothing.
I had been put on oxygen. During the nights I slept with a bipap machine for over half the time. It was like being trapped in an iron mask at times.
Barely I recall Iohn and Mom both stopping by to visit at times. The nurses, aides and doctors would stop in along with the techs taking blood and other functions. I was out of it.
When I was back – back for me that is – I was breathing better. I was becoming restless. I was ready to come home – or so I thought.
On Friday, the day after Christmas, I was released home from the hospital. In less than 24 hours, Iohn had me back in the ER. This time would be a brief stay. Arriving in the ER around 6 p.m. on Saturday, I was once more sent home on Sunday, December 27, but with oxygen.
The Lindcare tech came right to the hospital with a portable oxygen container to use as Iohn transported me home. Later he came to Mark’s Den and set up a condenser, more portables and a standing tank in the event the electricity went out.
For the past few days, I am back to breathing near normal with the use of oxygen at home. It is now taking it one day at a time.
This turbulent pendulum swing of a year will be closing in about 4 hours now. A new year, 2015, will be upon us.
This last month of 2014 has not been without its high points as well.
On Wednesday, December 9, 2014, my youngest and newest granddaughter, Amelia Marie, came into the world. Iohn and I were able to make the trip to Indianapolis to meet her and have an early Christmas with her sisters, Dylan and Alaina, on my 60th brithday on Saturday, December 13, 2014. What a way to spend the Big 60!
A few days later on Tuesday, December 16, 2014, Iohn and I said, “I do”. After nearly 10 years, Iohn and I have reached a dream neither thought would happen in my lifetime. We are now lawful partners for life.
The new year now beckons. The desire to continue to battle on has been renewed.
I pledge to continue the struggle. I vow to live each day to its fullest.
2015, bring it on!
From the Cornfield, these last three years or so, I could not have made it alone. There were some special people, esepcially this year, who have been there – often in private messages, cards sent snail mail and even phone calls – at the right moment.
These people, mostly unknown on a personal, face-to-face, level are or have been members of CNN’s iReport community. Most were from the US of A, but some were from oceans away.
Without these people I could not have made it. To them I am thankful and wish the best year to come.
I won’t get all the names right, will miss some, some I’ll use my own nickname for, but each of you have allowed me to survive as the pendulum swung during 2014.
Thank you:
Mike, Mike, Stan, Keith, Ted, Houston, Ron, Allen, David, Henry, Dave, De
Janie, Shari, Maria, Marie, Linda, Mary Helen, Kathi, Julie, Hillary, Gretchen, Shawnty
Eco, JT, Aut, 120, Nu
And oh so many more.
At times in comments on iReport we fight and argue. Then when least expected there is that private message that means more than anyone will ever know.
Once more – THANK YOU!!!!
Mark and Iohn Ivy
aka k3vsDad and tatboi3
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
2015 – BRING IT ON