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I was released from the hospital yesterday around 5:30 pm. On more than one occasion I

accidentally made reference to the stay as jail or an aspect related to jail. So I guess this could be counted as compassionate release. Most people that would see me think I am being released from the hospital because I am better, but the story couldn’t be further from the truth. For better or worse it’s “you may not have a lot of time, enjoy what you have”. As mentioned before one of the drugs keeping me alive is a Milrinone IV. The negative of this side effect of this drug is that it also destroys the heart. Life expectancy on this drug is less than a year for a patient with their native heart, let alone a transplanted heart that is rejecting. So, upon getting hooked up with my at-home Milrinone medicine, pump, and GQ-worthy fanny pack carrying case, Ashley and I restarted living our lives.

The day that I got admitted to the hospital was supposed to be a simple blood draw for the non-HLA antibodies and an informal office visit, just for my doctor to lay eyes on me. It was February 13th. Leading up to this day we had discussed how difficult it was to make big plans for Valentine’s Day because of the unexpected hospitalizations, we decided with no real tests or changes from previous visits that we would use the time in Orlando to celebrate Valentine’s Day while we could. As you can see that all did not work as planned. So, as soon as we left the hospital we continued on with a date. Ashley found a restaurant while I was in the hospital called Pig Floyds Urban Barbakoa and that was where we went for dinner. It was as unique as it sounds and delicious. After a previous appointment, we went to Pirates Cove Adventure mini golf on I-Drive, where Ashley beat me on the Captain’s Course. I had some business to finish, so we went back and took on Blackbeard’s Challenge…We tied.

Then we had to come back and face reality. Once we got back home, the unpacking of everything from the hospital began. On top of unpacking this includes the sorting out of all of the medicine changes/additions, making all of the calls for scheduling all of follow-ups, etc, etc, etc. Remember how I mentioned comparing hospitalizations to incarcerations? One reason for that is the feeling of institutionalization. Being in the hospital is awful; you are away from those you love, it’s a cold feeling, the place is noisy, lonely, anxiety-driving.  Hearing “Code Blue ____” called regularly can’t help but stir some memories and emotions. But there is the advantage that your meals, medicines, etc are planned and delivered to you. So the first few days that I am out of the hospital I find myself overwhelmed with choices, to the point of having choice paralysis. Well, to be more accurate, I have choice paralysis more than normal upon leaving the hospital. Despite all of that I am very fortunate to be at home, where I have Chester, one of the best infusion pump techs.