You can vote for a crazy lady here ——> http://questionpro.com/t/AJhWsZRXWf (LaRae L Parry)
Why I Write – My Writing Journey
Writing saved me from a world that suddenly went black due to a doctor who was careless. Writing saves me from a dark life with a disability that was no fault of my own—but because a doctor forget to evaluate me. I write to escape my world of being connected to supplemental oxygen to be anything or go anywhere I want. Writing takes me out of my home and into the fun world where my brain lives.
I write to get myself out of bed in the morning. I write because the stories in my head won’t stop bugging me until I help them come alive. I write to remind myself that my greedy surgeon couldn’t take everything away from me. I write because after five years of therapy, study, and hard work, I learned to read again. I write because the umbilical urge to create won’t go away.
I write to heal myself. I write to communicate to readers the concept of healing with humor. That it works. No kidding. My writing has been compared to the tradition of authors Erma Bombeck and Dave Barry. It is said to be quirky, offbeat, kooky, and even a little crazy.
In 2005, I suffered a major medical ordeal, which landed me on life-support. I was not only in respiratory failure, but multiple organ failure. Because the trauma was so severe, my brain crashed—sort of how a computer crashes. And it needed to be rebooted.
Before the medical nightmare, I was an author of 13 books. I lost years worth of painting skills, years of spelling expertise, editing skills, grammar, not to mention reading. While the Internet and social media were taking off, I was learning how to read again. It was through writing, that I learned to read once more.
I survived what doctors said was unsurvivable and I did it using humor and the will to live. Going against a premonition and instinct that I was too sick for surgery, I relinquished my own judgment to that of a surgeon who said, “Come in and I’ll evaluate you before surgery. I’ll see if you’re too sick for surgery. The surgery was performed and I ended up on life-support, not expected to live.
In my new release, Life-Support Dang Near Killed Me, I share my experiences in my memoir subtitled, Beware the Greedy Surgeon. I share the horrific story in hopes that readers can learn from my mistake . . . never surrender your own judgment for that of another’s.
The story is eerily close to what happened to Joan Rivers. The difference is, I lived to tell. I lived to tell how some doctors trample the Hippocratic oath while others honor it. I lived to tell people everywhere to trust their gut-feelings. I knew I was too sick for surgery, but I needed a doctor to confirm it. Why? Why do we give so much power to someone just because they have initials after their name?
Even though the events are tragic, I tried to tell the story with a sense of humor—something that helped me survive the unsurvivable. I had to have a sense of humor during the humiliating sponge baths. In the book, I reveal that a person in a coma can hear their loved ones. I reveal that angels outnumber medical staff in the ICU.
I tell how patients, even though we’re unable to communicate, learn to feel the energy of whomever enters a room. I heard firsthand, how doctors yell, “Stat.” “We’re losing her.” “I need 50 cc’s of—.” “Her temperature is 106°, ice her down.” “Her blood pressure is 70/50, straddle her—.”
In the book, I disclose how I had to learn to sit, stand, lift my legs up and down, walk, brush my hair, eat (I could have gone a few years without learning that skill), etc. I bring to light how absolutely awful bedpans are, especially when you don’t have one. I tell how it feels to be like a sack of potatoes, not being able to move or do or say anything.
I write about the feelings I had as I listened to the doctors’ talk about how I was going to die and what I did about it.
Readers of this book will be enlightened, worry, laugh, cry, and possibly cheer as I shine the light on the many things that can go wrong and go right while enduring trials and tribulations.
I wrote this book to help readers learn that they can survive anything using a little bit of humor. Life on life-support was one of my greatest challenges. It’s right up there with childbirth and raising teenagers. Laughter produces endorphins. Plenty of endorphins await release in all our bodies. My book will help.
When Life Support Dang Near Killed Me was released in June, I received many letters from people who had similar experiences as mine. I learned that there are many more stories out there. The public needs to be alerted as to the dangers of simple surgery. As a matter of fact, there is no such thing as routine or simple surgery. Dr. Kim, the doctor who saved my life in the ICU told me that. I am trying to share that news with as many people as I can.
I write because I want to my message. I write because at one point in my life, I thought I’d never be able to think a thought or read a word ever again. I write because I lived.