Denny Duquette (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
im_a_catch) wrote2006-12-13 01:30 pm
im_a_catch) wrote2006-12-13 01:30 pm
Entry tags:
[EM] 24 - Cabin Fever
Probably the worst damn bout of cabin fever I ever had came about when I was waitin’ for my bandages to come off...after my heart transplant. Sounds kinda funny, right? I spend more ‘n a year or two bound to my bed, and it’s when I’m healthy that it finally starts getting to me. Don’t get me wrong, I had my dark moments towards...well, what I *thought* was the end. Signing those DNR orders and all.
Thing is, though...I was sick for damn near five years. In and out of hospitals, up and down from my sickbed...you get a little stir crazy after some time, but after a while it gets to be like something out of THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION. The walls of a sickroom got a lot in common with the walls of a prison. First you hate ‘em, then you get used to ‘em...then you get to depend on ‘em.
I fought it, though...long as I could, but eventually I was turning into that poor sick bastard that I loathed and despised. If not for Izzie...I think I’d have reached my breaking point a lot sooner. Might not have even made it to the transplant. Sometimes I hated how she helped me...how great she was at getting me through every day, but more than that making me *want* to get through every day, even if it was hooked to a machine. I didn’t want to be that guy, I didn’t want to sit idly by and watch a machine pump my heart and be okay with it. But I knew I had to do it.
So cabin fever? Not so much...I couldn’t feel trapped and smothered, or even enclosed because there was no hope. No outside, nothing but my room, the machines, and the people that moved in and out of it. After, though...after the transplant, with my stitches ready to come out and the bandages no longer a problem...
Then there was hope again.
And *that’s* when the walls started closing in.
And I’ll tell ya this...I’ve never been happier to deal with a bout of the claustrophobic grouches than I was in the few days before the doc came in and snipped me free. Because nothing cures cabin fever better than not just getting out and getting free...but knowing that you *can*.
Muse: Denny Duquette
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Words: 396
Thing is, though...I was sick for damn near five years. In and out of hospitals, up and down from my sickbed...you get a little stir crazy after some time, but after a while it gets to be like something out of THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION. The walls of a sickroom got a lot in common with the walls of a prison. First you hate ‘em, then you get used to ‘em...then you get to depend on ‘em.
I fought it, though...long as I could, but eventually I was turning into that poor sick bastard that I loathed and despised. If not for Izzie...I think I’d have reached my breaking point a lot sooner. Might not have even made it to the transplant. Sometimes I hated how she helped me...how great she was at getting me through every day, but more than that making me *want* to get through every day, even if it was hooked to a machine. I didn’t want to be that guy, I didn’t want to sit idly by and watch a machine pump my heart and be okay with it. But I knew I had to do it.
So cabin fever? Not so much...I couldn’t feel trapped and smothered, or even enclosed because there was no hope. No outside, nothing but my room, the machines, and the people that moved in and out of it. After, though...after the transplant, with my stitches ready to come out and the bandages no longer a problem...
Then there was hope again.
And *that’s* when the walls started closing in.
And I’ll tell ya this...I’ve never been happier to deal with a bout of the claustrophobic grouches than I was in the few days before the doc came in and snipped me free. Because nothing cures cabin fever better than not just getting out and getting free...but knowing that you *can*.
Muse: Denny Duquette
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Words: 396