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Story of My Experiance
By Robert Opekun, Navy
Writing Type: Prose
By Robert Opekum
I
walked in (to the VA Medical Center in West Haven, Conn.) and was directed to a
bed. I took off my clothes and put on a hospital gown. I don’t know how or when
I got to the operating table.
A
surgeon did the operation and removed an infected section from my leg. With her
expertise and guidance, she put me on the road of recovery. When I woke up and realized
where I was, I was told that I died twice on the table. They did not think I
would last the night. I did survive and later was told that I did not die,
but I had an out-of-body experience. This I remember clearly. I was floating through
the air toward a black square. As I came closer, I could see that it was a
wall. I heard a voice say that I could not get over or around the wall. It told
me to go back, and I did. This happened twice.
My
son Matt and his wife Robin sat with me all that first night. Nobody knew which
way the pendulum would swing. As Matt and Robin watched me, it was slow going
but I did improve. The nurses and doctors were watching me every moment, day
and night. They fed me intravenously and cared for me the best that they knew
how. They did it right because I lived.
Matt
said that I had visitors. Unfortunately, I didn’t remember who they were. I
would like to say that I appreciated the time they took to visit. I often wondered
if I did any good when I visited those that could not get around. Now,
being on the side, I guess that I did do some good.
I
don’t know how long I was in the intensive care unit, but then I was transferred
to the step-down unit. I was still watched carefully, and all that was possib1e
was done to and with me. Time was not considered, and I never turned on the TV.
All this happened in Building One.
At
the end of November or maybe the start of December, I was transferred to Building
Two. I was put in a room in the so-called Heroes Living Quarters. There were
North, South, East and West sections. I was in the South section. The doctors
and nurses took care of me day and night. They gave me the medicine that I needed.
They kept me comfortable. I guess that they thought I was near the end of life.
I learned that I was in hospice.
As
time went by, I got stronger. I began to move myself in the bed, and the nurses
took me to physical therapy. There the therapist put me on a machine that
helped me pump my legs. Each day I improved and began to walk with walker and a
nurse next to me for security. As time went on, I walked farther and better.
I
began to walk in the unit with a nurse. Soon I started to walk without guidance
but still with the walker. I began to care for myself and went to the recreation
hall for lunch and dinner with other veterans who could get around. I also
joined in with other therapy groups for activities such as bingo and music. I
was getting less help from the nurses, but they were there every second to make
sure that I was all right.
Christmas
was just around the corner. I asked if I could get a pass to visit Matt and
Robin. I was granted the pass. On Dec. 24, the kids picked me up at 2 p.m. I
went with them to their house and enjoyed my time there. I had a Sombrero to
drink and spaghetti smothered with sautéed clam sauce. I ate enough for two
people. It was a short visit and soon came time to say goodbye. I went back to
the VA at 8 p.m. Everybody was happy.
The
next morning, I woke up hungry. I began to eat better and finished most of the
meals that were served. In January and February, I gained about 20 pounds. The outlook
for my future changed. At first, I was slated to be carried out, but now I was
a survivor and was being prepared to walk out of the hospital and go home.
The
nurses gave me a nick name Mr. O. Everybody knew me as Mr. O as I walked
through the halls to therapy, music and other activities. Someone always said
hello--doctors, nurses, workmen. This was to all patients, not only to me.
I was taught to care for my ostomy bag and to get dressed. They gave me gadgets
to help me put on my socks and shoes. I have seen these items on TV. Everybody
said that they would miss me as a patient but were happy when I was walking out
to go home. Going to the VA in West Haven was the best choice ever. In my
opinion, if I went somewhere else I don’t think that I would be here
today.
I
walked out on March 24, 2018, to go home. Since then, many good things have
happened to me. The VA gave me a hospital bed, which is very
comfortable. They also gave me a stair glide so that I did not have to
climb the stairs in my home.
It
also approved two home aides who helped me adapt and live comfortably at home.
One
aide was Melva. She helped me and guided me while taking a shower so I would
not have a mishap. The second aide was Sue. She came two times a week. Sue vacuumed
and dusted the rooms, cleaned the bathroom, did the laundry, helped me shop for
groceries and cooked wonderful meals so that I had meals on the days she was
not here. I felt fortunate to have these aides.
Now
let me take you back to November 2018. This was when I got a few surprises.
It
was about the second or third week of October when I received a notice in the mail
that I was scheduled for an appointment with the therapy nurse. I could not
think why after all this time the therapist wanted to see me. Maybe they just
wanted to see how I was progressing. A few days later my son Matt came over and
invited me out to dinner at an exclusive restaurant for which he had a gift
certificate. I told him about appointment, and he said I should get dressed up
and he would pick me up after the appointment.
It
was Nov. 7, 2018, when I arrived at the therapist’s room at the proper time.
One of the girls greeted me and was glad to see me. After a few minutes of
conversation, another girl brought out a walking cane and explained that it had
a prong on the tip for ice spots. I considered the offer for a while and then
declined. I felt that I was walking and getting about very well. I decided that
it was time to leave. The girls suggested that I might be interested in
something going on in the recreation room and that I should stop in to take a
look. I did that. When I reached the entrance of the room, I looked in. I saw
two workmen putting a plaque on the wall, and some chairs were lined up, but
that was all. I decided that I didn’t want to stay, so I turned around and left.
I walked to my car and went home. When I got home, I called Matt and
asked where to meet him. His reply: “What the heck are you doing home? You are
supposed to be here at the VA. Get over here. We are waiting.” A nurse got on
the phone and also said to get there right away.
I
got into my car and drove directly to the VA. In the parking lot the attendant
pointed to a space in the first row. Little did I know that this was prearranged.
I parked the car and walked into the VA entrance, where I looked for Matt.
Before
I could think, two nurses grabbed my arms and said they knew where my son was. They
rushed me into an elevator, up to the third floor and into the recreation room.
I could see maybe a hundred people. Nurses, doctors, patients, members of the VFW
post that I belong to, and family. I also saw U.S. Rep. Rosa DeLauro. I was escorted
to a chair labeled “Courage Award Recipient.”
Once
I was seated, Congresswoman DeLauro gave me a Certificate of Special
Congressional Acknowledgment. As she ended her presentation, I saw two girls
stand up and motion to me to join them. As I walked across the room, they
opened up a blanket. They explained that it was the Quilt of Valor. It was made
in Plantsville, Conn., and partly in Branford, Conn. The girls wrapped the
blanket around me. After receiving the quilt, I discovered a large cake on a
side table. I was led to the table and cut the first piece. After that all the
other people joined in and had a piece of-cake.
As
I walked around the room, I saw the plaque the workers were putting up earlier
that day. On the plaque was attached a brass plate. That plate listed my name
and the year 2018. This was placed along with other names in a section called
Courage Award Recipients. It will stay there forever.
After
enjoying party and talking to many people, we left and went to that nice
restaurant for a meal.
Sone
time has passed, and I have talked to many people about my experience as an
inpatient and also an outpatient at the VA. A few times I’ve said I missed the
funeral and was late for my party. Its’s my honest opinion that I was given a
second chance for life.
I
was told that some of the reasons I received the award were because of my
attitude and visiting other patients who were not able to get up and
around and also the selling of poppies. My reply was and always will be that I
will continue to do those activities as long as I am able.
Other
awards that I have received were a plaque for being Grand Marshal in the Seymour
parade, where I also received a plaque for my service in the Korean War.
Finally,
I would like to take you back a few years and tell you about something that
happened at the VA. I saw a spirit. And so did others.
Actually,
this started back in 2016. I often visited patients at the West Haven VA
hospital. I usually started in the veterans’ community living center. On one
visit I walked into a patient’s room and asked him how he was doing. He did not
answer me but moved his head from side to side. A nurse walked in and told me
that they named this patient the Candy Man and that he needed to write
everything he wanted to say because he could not talk. After a few minutes, I
left and went on my way.
About
three weeks later I was at the VA again. When I got to that section, I was told
that the Candy Man died. At that time I learned that this was the hospice section.
The Candy Man was in his mid-thirties. The nurses had put a picture of him on a
bulletin board.
Time
passed, and I became a patient. As I wrote earlier, I was put in this hospice section
and in a room across the hall from the Candy Man’s former room. As I lay in my
bed, I could see into that room. It was empty. As evening approached, I thought
that I saw an image in that room. I fell asleep. The days and nights came and
went, but every night about 9:30 I saw that image. I finally told a nurse about
seeing the image. She said yes, she had seen him once in a while. We thought
that he was the spirit of the Candy Man.
As
time went on, I thought of him as my friendly spirit. I watched him move about.
The mattress moved, and the curtain waved. I talked to the spirit and asked who
he was and what was he looking to find out. He did not answer me. The fact that
he did not talk made me believe that because the Candy Man did not talk, the
spirit could not talk. As time went on, I still could not get up and about, so
I asked the spirit to come over to my room and visit me. He did not come to my
room. Soon I began to get up and around, so I decided to visit the spirit in
his room. That night when he appeared, I got up and began to walk with my
walker across to his room. Keeping my eyes on him as I approached, I reached
the doorway and stepped into the room. He vanished. I walked farther into the room
and looked around. The room was empty. I went back to my room and got into bed.
Once again I looked across, and there he was moving about. I fell asleep.
Time
came for me to be discharged. I asked the spirit if he would come with me. He
did not answer. I have not seen him at home. After a couple of months, I went
over to the VA. I asked how my friendly spirit was doing. The nurses told me
that they had not seen him. The nurse Diane said that he was there to watch
over me, and now that I was discharged, he probably had gone to someone else who
needed to be watched.

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