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MHAUS HAPPENINGS

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Regular updates by our Board, MHAUS staff, and guest contributors.

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Faces of MH

Faces of MH are stories about people who lives have been changed by Malignant Hyperthermia.

Faces of MH are stories about people who lives have been changed by Malignant Hyperthermia. Click the links below to read stories of people whose lives have been changed by Malignant Hyperthermia and to add your own. 

Views and opinions expressed on this page are that of the individual telling their story and not from MHAUS.

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Poem by Melissa Domiati
Melissa Domiati

Please enjoy this poem provided by Melissa Domiati.  This is a unique description of Malignant Hyperthermia from the patient experiencing the episode.

Two lives - Melissa Domiati

I suppose I've had two lives

maybe even more

yet now I think of times

after I died

rather than (my life) before.

 

The last day of

(that life before)

began like others

packing lunches

giggling, chores

wiping faces

tying shoelaces

ironing uniforms.

 

Car filled with chatter

and the scent of

melting moments

just baked,

warm dustings of icing sugar

melted butter on paper doilies.

 

Anticipation

running races

excited faces

routine of kisses

on warm cheeks

sorry to miss your race

run fast

good luck

I love you!

See you soon.

 

Operation.

Hesitation.

Routine procedure.

Apprehension.

Removing wisdom

teeth I don't need

wisdom handy sometimes

I hoped they wouldn't take all of mine.

 

Wheeled in

by Carol smiling

with her sunflower cap

on a trolley like at the shops

yet flatter

swerving swaying

stainless steel shining

pushing fear from my mind

gown gaping at the back

hoping

no one can see my behind.

 

Sterile smells

crept up my nose

down into my throat

white walls

a ticking clock

tubes

blur

slur of words.

Metal implements.

Cold sensation.

Woozy dizzy

boozy giddy

falling

gone.

 

That way that only drugs

can

pull

you

down.

 

 

You are not to wake up.

Not to pick up the girls from their carnival.

Not to drink tea.

Not to share the biscuits on the bench.

 

Oblivious

to the flurry

hurry

of panicked doctors & nurses

whirling dervishly around

my half dead body

my vital signs

faded

I curled into a hard knot

Foetal.

Mortis.

Heat.

Muscles melted to fluid

then rigid

only bone left.

 

Malignant - deathly

Hyperthermia - overheating

2 words

You would never have heard

if you didn’t react

Giving me the chance to take you away

 

It's too late to turn back

It's the thing you signed

before you went under.

 

You thought it wouldn't happen to you.

 

Police cars screamed

driving from towns

all around

a car chase

a race

against the clock

to bring Dantrolene -

a word I'd never seen

before

my antidote

my saviour

if administered in time.

 

Angels appeared

in the form of the flying doctor

helicopter

they flew my body

alone

wrapped like leftover lunch

in foil to keep me cool

mind unaware

if the kids had finished school

for the day,

I was flown away above the clouds

missing all the races

no rush for parking spaces

landing on a hospital rooftop

 

Darkness

pervaded my system

Inwards

I shrank

I felt

low

flat.

Heavy.

 

Sunken to the floor and below.

Antithesis of light and weight

I was pulled

Wrenched.

Called,

cajoled

to Death.

 

Come to me now. This is my command.

Not a request, Your presence is demanded.

 

Held hostage

in this tunnel

of hazy hues

a vacuum cleaner hose

a funnel

wide

narrow

writhing like a serpent

with piercing yellow eyes

spirals of thin lights

distance crawling

closer sprawling

pulling

willing

 

 

You must come to me

It is your time.

 

Gentle

easy

oh so pleasing

to just blend back

to relax

into the pulling

like a tidal rip

of seduction

suction

 

Oh just take me!

 

Slipping

tripping

simpler to submit.

 

Melting

just moments away

from oblivion

too tired to stay

the lure of lightness

lifting me

swiftly

to ultimate rest.

 

On my left he sat

as if on a chair

but with legs crossed

how he sat before

Cancer took him.

His words were calm

clear without fear

as if through a microphone

thin yellow fingers on my arm.

 

You must not come

It is not your time

 

Little sister

you cannot follow me

 

 

Brad spoke in a whisper

The pull towards him

was magnetic

that lifetime-long year since he left,

a family bereft.

His love

flooding me from above

I wanted to follow

him to quench the hollow

insatiable thirst,

the pull towards never-

Never coming back.

 

Death demanded again.

I chose not to answer.

 

Suddenly

I remembered.

Life.

I was strong enough to fight.

 

As if waking from a dream

pierced by a fierce

determination to stay

with a lion's roar

I called to my daughters

eyes teeming with tears

voice screaming with fear

I turned towards darkness

climbed

crawled

fought

the long journey out.

 

 

I awoke from sleeping

to beeping

light

white

days had passed

my mouth forced open by a tube

that was breathing for me

I could not speak

even with my hands

nurses ran to me

Peering wide eyed

Concerned

Calming

Cautious

Don't let my parents see me like this

They can't lose their last child

I thought I was losing my mind

I tried to sign,

I can't even use

the language of the deaf

I thought

distraught

my arms didn't work

I tried with all my might

no muscles on my bones

a skeleton

a scary sight.

 

My daughter’s fair faces

filled with fear.

widest eyes

searching in sunken spaces

looking for traces

of their mother.

Missing me.

too scared to kiss me.

Too short to climb up the hospital bed.

Them trying to be brave

as if next to my grave

breaking pieces of my heart with each word.

 

 

 

Other people washing me.

Fed by a tube.

The man in the next bed

died one night

they closed the curtain

wheeled him away

on a trolley

like in the shops.

 

Somedays

I didn't want to learn to walk.

I already did that as a child.

It was too hard.

I felt sorry for me

wanted just to scream.

To cry

To hide.

Wheelchair walks outside

would terrify me

going out those safety doors

into a world where smokers huddle

throw rubbish on the floor.

I wanted to curl back up

in the sanctity of sterile

where people were kind

and I was a novelty

to have survived.

 

Hours turned to

lonely days to

weeks to

a year

before I learnt to

properly walk again

the pain

of growing one muscle at a time

tear

repair

and tear again to grow

so slowly

was a new routine

for me

that seemed

to be

mine alone.

 

I now stand strong

Long love filled life ahead

Many years have passed

(this life after I died)

Is a blessed one

my girls are grown

adults of their own

who cared for me

when I couldn't care for them.

 

I'm grateful I'm alive

I now cherish the time

(in this new life)

after I survived

maybe more

than I ever did before.

(We all live so many lives... the best one starts once we realise we only have one, the one we are living in right now, Melissa Domiati ‘Flowers from the Farm’)

https://mybook.to/flowersfromthefarm - Amazon link to poetry collection

https://www.facebook.com/melissa.domiati.poetry

https://www.instagram.com/melissa.domiati.poetry

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Podcast by Dr. Henry Rosenberg: Navigating the Crisis: How to Diagnose and Treat Malignant Hyperthermia
Dr. Henry Rosenberg

Podcast: ReachMD

Episode: Navigating the Crisis: How to Diagnose and Treat Malignant Hyperthermia

Click on link below to hear the Podcast:

Navigating the Crisis: How to Diagnose and Treat Malignant Hyperthermia 

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