It is crazy stuff, no doubt. Sounds cliche\' as hell, but it really makes you appreciate small things, when you wake up and realize what all can happen in a week. Those small things add up. I can\'t even imagine being out for longer than a week. It is just so frustrating.
I remember when I first woke up, I was already so weak I couldn\'t lift my arms and legs. Just from a week! I eventually got my strength back, but mentally I still wasn\'t there and couldn\'t type and it was so damn frustrating. Then you take in account all the small things that happen and you find out and it is just crazy.
With all that said, I am home now and stable for the most part. I still have coughing fits and sometimes I cough up blood, but less than I was. My eyes are still bright red and will be for some time, due to all the blood vessels being ruptured. But ya\' know what? Who cares? I\'m alive and have a family. I\'m still in school full time and will be heading back come Wed and try to get caught up for this semester. Just keep marching on. Worst case? I die tomorrow. Best case? I live for years to go, see my family get raised and have a better education. Either way, gotta keep goin\'.
One more thing; coma\'s are different for everyone, I think. I was on the highest dosage of medication and my body continued to fight it off. I was coherent enough to be able to catch glimpses of things and put them together. I was able to sort\'a\' finger-spell certain words like "i\'m dying" to my wife and even sign "yes" or "no" to music she was playing. The thing is, I didn\'t *know* I was doing any of that. In fact, all I remember was vivid dream after vivid dream of being me dead and thinking, "shit, this is it? this is death? this sucks!". It was like one huge week long dream. The doctors remarked that I had a very "strange journey" and I would agree with all that. I apparently asked for people I never thought I would ask for and kicked other people out of the room. I would hear their voice, start giving them the middle finger and banging my hands on the bed, with my blood pressure raising to the point I almost had a stroke. On the other hand, I would finger spell and ask for people like my father-in-law, who I\'ve always loved but had a strained relationship with. So, it being a "coma" is very different for everyone. I don\'t remember any of the stuff I done, but I remember the dreams and thinking I was dead. Just very surreal experience. I had no clue I was a breathing machine, with feeding tubes and all that. All I knew was the last thing I remember was saying goodbye to my wife and making her promise to take our kids to get ice cream, no matter what happened.