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Hello again wonderful readers!
Before I really get into things, I want to give my okay for anyone reading this, or any of my “News From Gerianne” send-outs, to freely share with any other persons whom you feel would be interested in and/or derive benefit from what I write. Just please give my name and website (GBHull.com) as the human author. Also encourage any interested people to subscribe to these send-outs.
Also-also-also.... For those who’ve had my: gerianne@eastlink.ca e-address since the dinosaurs roamed freely, that e-address is now dead. After some 30 years, I finally got fed up enough with paying exorbitant monthly Eastlink charges, to pull the plug on them. I’ve now gone purple! Purple Cow that is. By switching, I’m saving over $100.00 each month. I’ve been using my own e-address (GBHull@GBHull.com) for a while now, so keeping Eastlink really was pointless and silly.
I truly hope that everyone had an incredible Christmas, and to seriously catch up I’m likely going to recap with a month or two at a time over a few send-outs.
It seems like forever since I’ve written one of these, except for the Christmas message I sent last week. The last “real” one I did was in May of 2025, and since then I’ve often felt like “a writer who doesn’t write any more”; and what does one call those people??? This, at times, had me very concerned, for it wasn’t “writer’s block” that was keeping me from writing.
These past months Psalm 46:10 “Be still and know that I am God.....” has been resonating with me a lot, so it’s been kind of a quiet time in my life in one sense, but not in another. My readers, friends, associates, and loved ones have never been far from my thoughts though. Rest assured of that.
So now I’d kind of like to pick up from my May’s edition of the “News From Gerianne.”
On July 7th I had my last appointment with my Radiologist. This man has become one of my all-time favourite humans. On that day I was truly overjoyed and immensely grateful to him and all the radiation and NS Cancer Centre staff, when he told me that as far as all my tests showed, I have no current signs of any further cancer anywhere in my body.
Still, only some 12 days later, I was rushed to Emerge with a fever of over 41 degrees and I was truly fighting for my life. I spent the following 4 days in hospital. The circumstances were what I’ve dubbed “a perfect storm.”
My oncologist (who’s another amazing human) had prescribed a second, more general, cancer med (Abemaciclib - Verzenio) for an extra layer to try to insure that I’ll hopefully never have to deal with any more cancer, ever again.
Well, in my case, that pill (which is basically Chemo in pill form) had some very adverse side effects. After only 9 days of taking it, (I was supposed to be on it for 2 years) one of those side effects was severe diarrhea. My body literally could not keep food in me long enough to get any nutrients. Every time I ate anything, my body would purge and as I’m always alone for periods of time throughout the day, well... you can guess what became a frequent occurrence.
Those occurrences in turn resulted in an undetected/untreated severe UTI. My oncologist happened to be away in July and because my UTI wasn’t showing up on any tests (my UTIs rarely do) the covering doctor wouldn’t prescribe antibiotics. Over the month’s duration, this untreated UTI led to my body became sepsis.
The first 48 hours were unbelievable! When my attendant and I were urgently ushered in by paramedics, I was suddenly being poked, prodded by what felt like an army of medical staff - checking my pulse, checking my heart rate, taking my temp, trying to put IV’s in everywhere while I drifted in and out of consciousness.
At one point, a medical staff (who clearly does not understand cp (cerebral palsy) kept insisting I stay still, which is the worst thing anyone can say to me, because then my muscles get tense, I get worried about moving at the wrong moment, and therefore I start involuntarily moving everywhere. During all this, the guy says: “Stay still so I can get ths IV in your leg.” (I already had one in each hand.)
When I responded with a stressed: “I’m trying!!!”
He responded with a patronizing: “You’re very sick dear.”
And of course even in that situation, I replied with a: “No shit Sherlock! I know that!”
I must have then slipped into unconsciousness again because when I came to, he was nowhere to be found that I could see and the IV had been removed from my leg.
Still, I have to say, except for that guy, the Emerge staff were incredibly kind and caring to me, especially the Charge Nurse, Trish. As sick as I was, Trish and I and my attendants were laughing and swopping crazy stories; but you also know things are extremely serious when Emerge doctors start asking you: “If it comes to it Miss Hull, what kind of ‘life saving measures’ do you want us to take; and keep in mind, it’s not at all like what people see on TV shows - not even close.”
As I lay there drifting in and out of consciousness, I was having silent chats with God:
“Okay Lord, I know you’re here with me. I know you’re in control, and I know that no matter how all of this plays out, I can only be thankful to You. You’ve given me the most incredible, amazing, adventurous, unexpected, unpredicted, crazy life - that I’ve thoroughly enjoyed. Has it always been easy? No! Scary sometimes; down right terrifying at other times; but you’ve been right there with me, through it all, as you are right now. So whatever happens Lord, I’m good with it.”
Another thing which I don’t think I’ve mentioned to anyone yet, as it’s hard to describe (plus some will think I’ve gone bonkers) but I’d say, for the first 36 hours or so, when I was most likely critical, I sensed the presents of my very dear friend, the Late Gerry Penney. Gerry passed in March of 2024. He had been in my life for more than 50 years and honestly he had been more of a brother to me than most of my biological “brothers,” except for Lloyd of course. Though our phone chats happened with less frequency, (maybe 2 or 3 times a year in later years) we remained close. Our calls would always end with him saying in his Newfoundland way: “I love you my sweetheart.” And I’d always reply: “I love you too Gerry.”
I have no doubt that during those 36 hours, I felt Gerry’s spirit with me. He wasn’t really talking or doing. He was just there, kind of keeping watch. I felt very comforted by feeling his presence once again. I wanted to keep him close for longer, but as I began to get better, his essence faded.
Being admitted to hospital is very likely one of my biggest fears and my biggest nightmares. For me it’s a huge trigger. It brings back memories of living in institutions, knowing that sometimes medical staff don’t see my “quality of life,” and remembering so many kids in those institutions who would go into hospital and never came out.
When they moved me up to a ward, it was even more triggering. As it was afternoon visiting hours, the noise level was insanely loud. People laughing. People talking. Radios and TVs blaring. I felt as if I had just been pushed into some kind of weird, frat - New Years Eve, party. Laying there, I was thinking: “There’s supposed to be ‘sick people’ in here. How the **** is anyone supposed to rest and recover like this?” So many things both haunted and terrified me while I was in there.
At the end of the room (where I was) I noticed a HUGE garbage can beside a sink. My first thought was: “Well now! That’s overdoing it a bit isn’t it?” Later that evening, I became fully aware of what that HUGE garbage can was for.
Often, and quite understandably, in those situations people are too weak/sick to get up to go to the washroom, therefore adult diapers are used; but instead of disposing of such items in a separate location... Nope! They’re dumped in that huge garbage can.
One night, when myself and my attendant had finally gotten into a deep, restful sleep, we were both jolted awake by an overwhelming stench, to the point where I almost threw up.
Yes, this time I was immensely blessed to have attendants who were willing to stay with me for my entire hospital stay. They made a makeshift bed out of chairs, and hospital staff were great at scrounging up extra pillows and blankets for us. I was & am so very grateful to each of my attendants for staying with me and taking “shifts” 24/7.
For me, in a situation like this, communication becomes extremely difficult; hospital staff often think I am intellectually disabled as well. They don’t take the time to listen/understand me; I’m sick; I’m scared, etc.; so having people who know me with me, is pretty much crucial.
A perfect example as to why, is this:
My first night on the ward, two staff came to my bedside. I don’t know if they were nurses, cca’s, psw’s, or what, but one said: “Hi, we have your blood thinners for you.”
I replied with: “Umm no... I don’t take blood thinners.”
They then looked confused.
I asked: “Why are you trying to give me blood thinners? Is there a reason? Which doctor prescribed them?”
I was kind of horrified when one said: “Oh, we give them to everybody on this floor.”
The next night they tried again, only this time they brought an injection/needle.
When I again declined, one asked in kind of a disapproving tone: “So, Gerianne, you’re refusing treatment then?”
I replied: “Well, yah, I guess I am then!”
After what I had just been through with that second cancer med, I wasn’t putting any type of med in my body which I hadn’t first discussed with a doctor.
The next morning when I got to speak to the ward doctor, I asked him why they had been trying to give me blood thinners.
He too was baffled, so he went to check. He returned with a printout of my chart.
“They told you it was blood thinners?” He asked in a confused manner.
“Yeh. You can ask my other staff when she returns this afternoon. She’s my witness.”
He then said: “Gerianne, the only thing you were prescribed other than the antibiotic, was Advil.”
I chuckled and said: “Yeh. I asked for Advil. So why did they tell me it was blood thinners? Do they not know what they’re giving people? And, by the way, when can I go home?”
I’m obviously doing much better now, but it’s taken several months to really regain my strength and energy.
So that was July. Just wait til I tell you about August....Mwha-ha-ha-ha!
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Meantime, I send all of you my love, and best wishes for a happy 2026!
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