The Chapters form is back, well at least for now. I’ve been stuck on it for so long. Hopefully you’ll see chapter 7 next week.
Of course, there is one thing I learned during this very chaotic time in my life: never make plans. If I make plans something will inevitably make this plans impossible to actualize. If I don’t make plans, I’ll have a good day in which I could do something.
At least that’s the way it seems to be going lately.
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If don’t know about my Chapters, I am writing my ICU experience in chapters, like a novel, because I have novel writing exprience. You can read chapters 1 to 5 by going to the heading “my experience in chapters at the top of this blog, and I encourage you to do so.
Everything that happens in the chapters, happened to me while I was in the ICU. Some of it was because of sedation, didn’t actually happen, but it happened to me, as real as anything else happened to me.
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My Experience in Chapters – Chapter 6:
I turned from the nurses, who were talking about urine feeds, and followed a empty hospital hallway. As I walked the hallway turned to sand, and the sand turned to desert.
A crowd of people, wandered through and sat at tables in the sand, at outdoor restaurant, entirely made of sand.
A little girl came up to me took my hand and said “Come with me”.
She lead me through buildings and a street made entirely of sand, until I came across my cousin, who greeted me and introduced me to his husband Avers, and his children: a three year old and a baby.
My cousin lead me through the sand, to a mansion made entirely of sand.
“Sand?” I said “You made a real sand castle?”
“Ya isn’t it great? When we get tired of part of it, all we do is tear it down, and build a new part of it. The sand is free. We can add as many additions on to it as we want. Come in.” He lead me to the door, but the idea of being in a sand castle, unnerved me a bit.
I stopped at the door, and asked “Won’t the sand collapse in on us?” I asked.
“No, no, this is a new way of building with sand. It won’t fall until we want it to.”
Still skeptical I followed him in. It was gorgeous. The kitchen, with sand counters, a sand table, sand chairs and sand appliances, lead into a patio that overlooked the beach. As I sat and visited, I watched the water lap into the shore.
“It’s nice for swimming.” I commented.
“Oh ya, the children love to take swimming lessons.”
“I can imagine” I said, as I recounted my own experiences with swimming lessons.
My cousin, and his husband told me about their children and their lives living in this land where everything was made of sand. I started becoming less and less involved, and more and more like I was watching it on a TV, but not apart of it.
I watched cousin take his 3 year old daughter, to a fashion company to design a new nail polish, that marbled as it went on the nails.
She enthusiastically designed the entire nail polish from the colours, how it would marble, and what the end product would be like. Although she was only 3 years old, she acted like a miniature CEO, making all the decisions with the aid of woman who worked for the fashion company.
Her face was put on all the ads and she was made the new “it” girl. This was famous three year old, who everybody wanted their child to be like, lead the fashion industry, and made all the money for the family.
As my cousin was pouring all his attention into his 3 year old, this nail polish (that the fashion company was backing), a famous billionaire (who I won’t name because he really exists), stole the land my cousin and Avers bought, as well as the sand castle on it, and the baby in it.
My cousin took his 3 year old, left the fashion house, and tried to get his baby back. The famous billionaire refused to give the baby back, or to let anybody go and get him.
Just as my cousin’s baby was crawling through sand, perliously close to the ocean with the tide coming it, I was screaming “he’s going to die”, as my cousin hired a helicopter, parachuted on to the beach, grabbed the baby, and ran away.
When my cousin and his daughter returned to the fashion company, they had already moved on to the new “it” child who was even younger and cuter.
Having spent all of their money, my cousin and his husband, tried to make their baby the new “it” child, but were told there the baby was too old and there was a 10 year waiting list for “it” children. They would have to audition a baby that wasn’t born yet, time the babies birth for just the right time, and then go through the process again, if they wanted another “it” child.
Deciding they couldn’t wait 10 years they, found another way to make money and rebuild their lives.
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Note: Although this particular cousin doesn’t have a husband or children, it didn’t register as odd that he did at the time.
Note #2: I shortened this storey. As you can see it’s not in novel form. I stuck trying to decided if should even include this storey, because it is so odd and unlike the rest of my ICU experience. I wonder if it was a dream. Why did I fade from my own storey, and become like I was watching it on a tv? Why did it include people who didn’t exist? Why was it so detailed? If I’d written it with dialog it could have become fantasy novella.
In the end, I need to unstuck myself and because it happened in my sedation and is apart of my ICU experience I will include it, even though it is very weird.
Note#3: As always please share this blog post with others.
Thank you for reading and thank you in advance for sharing it.
Many thanks for following my blog, which is appreciated.
Best wishes, Pete.
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Your welcome. To be perfectly honest I followed your blog accidentally. I pushed the wrong button on my iPad with my finger which is bigger than the button.
However I looked around your blog, and I liked what I saw. I thought it was interesting that you are writing fiction for free. I looked for ads and couldn’t find any that were paid to you or paid to wordpress. My ads are paid to wordpress only because I haven’t paid for a site update. It is in the back of my mind.
Do you find it enjoyable to have such a close relationship with your readers? When people write books published in book form, they don’t get feedback for every chapter.
Ok this is longer than I intended and maybe I should just say your welcome and leave it at that, especially since I don’t know if you’ll ever return to my blog, and see this response to your comment.
I will point out that everything I write on this blog is 100% true. I was in the ICU on a Christmas a few years ago, and the Chapters part is written in chapters because I’m used to writing novels (none published), and that’s how I know how to write. It sounds untrue because that’s what long term sedation does. I was sedated for 8 days. I’m trying to get across how terrible it is to be in the ICU and that it is not a place anybody wants to go. It’s not a place that you go to, have a peaceful stay, leave home fully healed and get on with live. It takes years to get on with live. All those symptoms that people say they have with “long covid” has been called Post ICU syndrome for years, and it affects most people who have a long stay (more than a few days) in the ICU. It also leaves people with PTSD.
This is why I get so frustrated when people don’t take covid seriously. They just don’t get how live damaging being in the ICU for any reason can be.
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I am very pleased that you stayed with me, after pushing the button by accident. I don’t have ads, as I pay for the ‘Personal Plan’ at £3 a month to remove them. I do have a great relationship with most of my followers, as part of a real blogging community. I never wanted nor intended to make any money from blogging, just to use it as a hobby.
I do take Covid-19 Seriously. I was an EMT in London for 22 years, and was there at the start of the AIDS outbreak. Also, my wife works for the NHS, and I lost one of my closest friends to Covid-19 last May. I never doubted that any of your experience wasn’t true.
Thanks again for your reply.
Best wishes, Pete.
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I am so sorry you lost a close friend to covid.
It was and EMT saved my life before I got the hospital, because by the time we got to the hospital I was out cold and not breathing. My mother thought I was dead.
So thank you for what you did, even though I’ve been no where near England.
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