Part 2: Who I Am and How I Went From Law Enforcement Officer To Motivational Speaker
I put my elbows on the cold brown table in front of me and held my head in my hands. God, please… I’m not ready to die.
Welcome to Part 2 of my story! Yesterday, I left off with how I had just started my impaired driving prevention speaking business and was taking life for granted. I said everything changed in February 2017. What happened to change my perspective. Well dear reader… here is the next part of the story…. Part 2
February 14, 2017 — Valentines Day. It should have been a day of celebration with my Husband, but it wasn’t. It was another day of touring and speaking. My marriage hadn’t been the greatest the past year anyway, so I didn’t really care if I was home or not. Ever since I had hung up the uniform, it seemed my Husband had lost interest in me.
Anyway, back to February 14, 2017 — I had just drove 12 hours the day before to Hudson Bay, Saskatchewan to do a presentation at a school. As I was speaking on the stage that day, I found I wasn’t feeling the greatest. I figured it was most likely due to the fact that I was simply tired. It seemed my lungs were not working properly, I had a hard time taking deep breaths. I figured it was just a change in the air. Maybe the air just wasn’t as humid.
But that night, driving back towards the Alberta border, I started to get a sharp pain in my lower back. Again, I just figured it was due to driving so much the past few days. But as the hours went on, the pain got worse and worse until it became excruciating.
I was relieved to see the sign of a truck stop up ahead. I pulled over and got out of my truck to stretch, hoping that would alleviate some of the pain. “It has to be all the driving” I said to myself. But shortly after I got out of my truck, I started to get nauseous and throw up. “Oh no, I’ve got the flu. I don’t have time for the flu!” With a crazy busy tour schedule the next two weeks, I didn’t have time to be sick.
I pushed on another four hours to my Mom’s house in Drayton Valley, Alberta— my stopping point for the night. By the time I got there, I was in agony. I went downstairs to the spare room and stretched out on the bed. It felt good to stretch. “It had to be all the driving” I said to myself.
The next day, the pain and nausea were still there. I was supposed to be heading off for Calgary, Alberta, but I didn’t have the strength to start the journey and I was too sick to even really get out of bed. I felt weak and defeated. This was a huge conference I was supposed to be speaking at, my big shot at gaining more clients there — it wasn’t something I could just reschedule. I hoped it was just a 24 hour flu and that I could get up early the next morning and still make it to Calgary in time. Little did I know, I wouldn’t make Calgary and this would be the start of a long 10 month journey that would test every morsel of strength I had, physically, mentally and emotionally.
The next morning, instead of feeling better, I was feeling even worse. My Mom called Alberta Health Link and spoke to a nurse. The nurse told my Mom something I didn’t expect to hear: “you need to get her to emergency ASAP. If she can’t walk or you don’t have a way to get her there, call an ambulance.”
A few minutes later, I was patting my dogs on the head saying “don’t worry, I’ll be back soon” and heading out to Mom’s car to head to the hospital. It was only a five minute drive, but it felt like an eternity due to the excruciating pain in my back and all the bumps in the road.
I figured that maybe the hospital would just give me some fluids since I hadn’t been able to eat or drink anything in almost two days, then send me home. But I was wrong… oh so wrong.
The emergency doctor immediately ordered a bunch of blood tests and had an IV started fluids and morphine for the pain. She said I should be feeling a lot more relaxed soon. But after that dose of morphine, the pain was still intense.
The doctor re-appeared and said I was very, very sick. The blood test results were not good. I had a major infection, pneumonia and pancreatitis. It was life threatening. I was labelled as being in critical condition. My liver and kidney levels were not good. I was in the first stages of organ shut down. I didn’t find out the severity of all of this until weeks later when I was told by my family doctor that organ shut down of the liver and kidneys is the first stage of death. No wonder the emergency doctor looked so worried.
Antibiotics were immediately started by IV. Then more blood tests were done. The antibiotics weren’t working. The white blood cell count went up, not down, which meant the infection was raging out of control faster than the antibiotics could be put in.
After several hours in emergency and multiple rounds of different pain medications and antibiotics, nothing had changed. I was still in a lot of pain and my condition was worsening as the minutes ticked by on the clock. The doctor said they would have to get really aggressive on the antibiotics and the pain meds. I didn’t realize how aggressive until the nurse came back in stating that they would be using four different types of antibiotics and that they were jumping up to using a Fentanyl and Toradol mix for the pain.
Fentanyl? That was something I spoke about in my presentations that had been killing people. The hospital was going to be injecting me with that??
As the drug was added to my IV, I instantly felt like my head was going to explode and like my eyes were rolling back into my head. How could people use this stuff for fun?!? I definitely would not call this fun. The fentanyl sedated me. But a few hours later, I was jolted awake by the pain once more.
I looked up at the clock. It was just past 3 a.m. I had entered the hospital around noon. My Mom had gone back home to look after my dogs for me. Would I ever see them ever again? I loved those dogs. Would I make it through the night? I felt like the life was being sucked out of me. The doctor said she was really concerned. Nothing was working. I just had this sinking feeling that I was dying and this was the end. This wasn’t how I pictured it.
I sat up and pulled the little brown table over to me that they give you in hospital rooms. I rested my elbows on it and held my head in my hands. Hot tears poured down my face. I looked back at the wall with all the instruments that you usually find in an emergency room. Would this be the last thing I would see? I all of a sudden realized how many regrets I had in my life. I had wasted my life. I had let depression, overwhelm, the effects of bullying and PTSD get to me. I had lost self confidence. I had just been surfing my way through life. I had been so wrong. I wanted to go back and do it all again. I wanted a second chance to live — and this time to really live. To spend time with family and friends, to stop taking things for granted, to pour myself into my business and change people’s lives for the better. Would I get that second chance? Or would this be the end? This wasn’t the way I want it to end… cold and alone in an emergency room.
I prayed to God. “God, I know you’re mad at me and I don’t know why. You took my Dad from me, you ended my enforcement career, gave me PTSD and now I lay here dying in a hospital, cold and alone. If you plan to take me tonight, just do it quick because I can’t stand the pain much longer. But if you plan to let me live, then please heal me quickly. I can’t fight much longer. God, please… I’m not ready to die. I’ve learned my lesson. I want a second chance at life. Please…”
Just then the nurse returned to give me the next dose of the fentanyl/toradol mixture. I felt the sedative effects take over. God, please…. let me wake up after this… I don’t want to die here alone… my eyes closed as I succumbed to the sedation and fell asleep.
“Amanda… hey wake up!” I felt a pinch on my shoulder. Was I dead? Was I still alive? I forced my eyes open and saw my nurse standing there. Thank-you God, I’m still alive!
“It’s time to do vitals. How’s the pain honey?”
“Ummm, it’s gone.” I managed to say.
“Oh good, this round of pain killers is working. Your Mom just called and wondered how you were doing.”
“What time is it?” I managed to say in almost a whisper. My eyes were heavy and I just wanted to go back to sleep. I was so tired and so exhausted. I was literally in a fight for my life.
“It’s just after 5 a.m. Get some rest honey, we’ll try not to bug you too much for the next couple of hours until it’s time for the next dose of pain killers. You need to rest to give your body a chance a fight.” Then she was gone and my eyes closed again. Please God. Let me wake up again… please let me live…
A few hours later, I blinked as I woke up. The pain was back. At least that meant I was still alive. But it hurt so bad. My Mom arrived just before the new emergency doctor came in.
He said they were taking me by ambulance to a hospital two hours away to get a CT Scan done. Only then would they know what they were facing.
A short time later, the ambulance arrived. Another IV had to be inserted. I now I had an IV in each arm. At least the ambulance guys were handsome and super nice. They liked to joke and it felt good to laugh despite my situation. My heart goes out every single person in that is an EMT, EMR or Paramedic. You are special type of people with huge hearts. Even in this time of crisis for me, these special people did their best to reassure me that I was in good hands.
I didn’t realize how rough ambulance rides are…the make air ride horse trailers but for some reason, it seems no one has figured out how to make an air ride ambulance! Every bump feels ten times bigger than it really is!
After the CT Scan, I was taken back to the emergency room in Drayton Valley. As soon as the ambulance stretcher was pushed through the doors, I heard words I didn’t want to hear… “you better get comfortable. You’re going to be with us a while.”
What did that mean? A few more hours? A day? A few days? Longer?
I was put back onto a hard stretcher in emergency. I wanted back on that ambulance stretcher. It was so much more comfortable. The pain was returning.
The doctor appeared. From the grim look on his face, I guessed he didn’t have good news.
“Your test results are back. They aren’t good. Due to the pancreatitis, a very large part of your pancreas has already died. If you live through this, you will most likely be diabetic and/or you may have to take special enzymes to ever eat food again. The best case scenario is that you come out of this perfectly normal at the end. I’ve called Edmonton to get you into their ICU but so far, there’s no beds available. So you’re stuck here with us for now. We’ve got to get real aggressive with the antibiotics and fluids. We can’t let you have anything to eat until things settle down in your body.” I didn’t feel like eating anyway.
“So what chance do I have of coming out of this normal? And please be honest. Am I going to live?”
“I give you a 30% for both living through this and coming out normal.”
“How did this happen?” I asked.
“We don’t know what caused it. Pancreatitis is usually caused by one of three things — gallstones in the gallbladder, high cholesterol and a high fat diet and/or drinking too much alcohol. But the CT Scan showed no gallstones, you don’t have high cholesterol and you say you aren’t an alcoholic and that you don’t drink. So right now, I have no answers as to why this happening.” Then he left.
I felt the tears well up and start to flow down my face. Why me? Why was this happening to me? I just want my life to go back to normal. Please God, I want a second chance at life — a normal life!
An older nurse came in to comfort me. “I know honey, I know. If you roll on your side, it might help with the pain. We can’t give you another dose of painkiller for another 90 minutes. We’re trying to get you a room upstairs with a comfortable bed so you can get off this uncomfortable stretcher. We should have one ready soon. Want me to sit with you? I’m off at 11 p.m. But I’m all done my work for today and the new shift just came in. I can just sit with you if you like.”
“Yes, please. If you don’t mind.”
“It’s okay to cry. Let it out. But try to rest too. Your body needs you to rest to fight all this off. You’re very sick.” The nurse held my hand and stroked my hair. It seemed like a long 30 minutes.
Finally, someone came to take me upstairs to their version of ICU. I looked up at the clock. The nurse was still there holding my hand. I looked up at the clock. It was 11:30 p.m. That nurse stayed an extra 30 minutes to comfort me. She could have left, but she didn’t. That’s one special person…
“Thank you for staying with me. You didn’t have to…”
“Aww, I don’t have much going on at home anyway. You needed me more than anyone or anything at home.” Then she was gone. An angel in the form of a nurse.
As I got settled in a more comfortable hospital bed on the top floor of the hospital, I felt my phone buzz indicating the arrival of a text message. My Husband had flown to Edmonton and then gone to the Garth Brooks concert with his Mom & Sister. He was texting me photos and videos from the concert. Tears of anger, hurt and sadness streamed down my face. In my time of need, my Husband had abandoned me. He was one hour away from the hospital and instead of being by my side, he chose a concert with his family. I didn’t know how much more I could take.
My next nurse arrived with next dose of pain killer. She said she was also going to be sedating me with another medication the doctor ordered. They needed me to rest. I now had IV’s running in both arms and a splitter on one, so three things running into me at once.
I tried to get as comfy as I could. It felt like there was a bar under my back — like when you sleep on a pull out sofa at your Grandma’s house. But there was no bar. It was my swollen and dying pancreas, the pneumonia and my kidneys causing the pain.
My phone buzzed. Another text from my Husband of more photos and videos from the concert. More tears streamed down my face. I had feelings of resentment, sadness, fear, abandonment and a bit of hatred all thrown in. Was I that easy to forget about? That easy to step on?
My Husband’s family had kicked me out of the family a few months prior to this, all because I asked for their help in speaking to my Husband. He had been going down hill health wise and I figured he was diabetic since both his parents were diabetic and therefore it runs in the family. He wouldn’t listen to me or his employer who was also telling him something was wrong and they thought he needed to see a doctor. Instead of helping, his Sister told me that my Husband didn’t have any problems and that all of his problems were my fault. I’m not sure if it was jealousy that her brother was married and she wasn’t or what her reasoning was for saying those things. Either way it was hurtful. It became apparent at the previous Christmas when presents and a card were sent for my Husband but none for me. I knew the concert ticket was one of the presents they had sent my Husband. I just couldn’t believe that he would chose his family and a concert over me.
One more buzz from my phone of yet more photos and videos from the concert. I put the phone over on the nightstand as far away from me as I could. Tears of overwhelm and so many other emotions streamed down my face in the form of tears as the sedation took affect and my eyes closed.
The next morning, I was woken up by a nurse coming to check on me and a lab tech coming to take more blood for tests. There was another lady in the bed on the other side of the curtain. She was saying she felt bad that she was getting breakfast and nothing had been brought for me. I reassured her that I didn’t feel like eating, but I thanked her for being so concerned about me. I was amazed at how two strangers — the nurse the night before and now this older lady could be so kind and concerned about me.
I watched as the nurse started writing on the whiteboard on the wall in front of my bed. As she stepped away, I felt even more discouraged. Under expected discharge date was written 5 or more days…. I had a full tour schedule the following week. I needed that income. Why was this happening? How would I explain to my clients that I had to cancel? Would they rebook?
My Mom arrived at the hospital. I told her how upset and discouraged I was. “Let’s focus on something else. Look, you have the window bed so you can look out the window and enjoy the view.” That helped me feel a bit less overwhelmed and helped to change my perspective a bit. I was still alive… so far anyway and it was nice to look out the window and see the sun shining.
The first doctor I had seen in emergency appeared at the foot of my bed. There had been a slight improvement in the blood tests in the morning, but not enough to say I was out of the woods yet. The next couple of days would be crucial. I could have some liquids as food, but no solid foods yet. She needed me to try drinking water so they could see how my body would react. Fingers crossed I could begin to drink fluids so they could slow down the amount of IV fluids they had to run into me every hour.
The next five days were filled with pain, blood tests and hoping for better results. Each day, there were small improvements. Some nurses were really nice and some were really nasty.
One of the takeaway’s I would like you to have is that if you hate your job and are just riding out your time, please don’t take it out on clients, customers or patients. If you are that miserable, life is too short. Go find something that will make you happy. Because people won’t always remember your name, but they will always remember how you made them feel. Especially if they are in a low point in their life like I was at that time.
It turned out that because the doctor’s couldn’t figure out what was causing the pancreatitis, that some nurses assumed I was an alcoholic and just not being honest about it. I’m an impaired driving prevention speaker. I don’t drink alcohol. I don’t like it. But they still had their own beliefs even though they didn’t know me at all. Please don’t assume things about people. As my Mom used to tell me, assume is an acronym for making as ass out of u and me.
Five days into my Hospital stay, an older gentleman walked into my room. “Hi, I’m Pastor Lorne” he said.
“Oh, have they given up on me? I thought I was getting better? If they sent you, I guess I’m not getting better and this is the end…”
“Oh no!” He said laughing. “I’m not here for that. I volunteer my time with the hospital. I was looking down the patient list. I see you’re young, that you’re not from here and that you are in critical condition. I thought maybe you might like to have someone to talk to and visit with for a while. Can I sit down?”
“That would actually be really nice” I said with a smile. “My Mom lives here. She comes to visit every morning and every evening. So I’m not alone, but it would be nice to chat for a while.”
It was nice to open up to this man. To tell him all my hurts, my fears and what I was feeling.
“What is your relationship with God and Jesus?” he asked.
“Ummm, none…they hate me.” I said.
“Why do you say that?”
“My Dad was killed by an impaired driver just 10 kilometers outside this town, I got bullied at work as an officer, ended up with PTSD and now I’m dying in a Hospital. So you tell me Pastor Lorne, do they hate me or what?”
“Oh dear, you’ve got it all wrong. Let me tell you a story.”
Now I’m not here to preach to you, but looking back, this was a critical turning point in this whole mess.
Pastor Lorne told me the story of Jesus and how He died on the cross. No one had ever told it to me in such simple terms before. Then Pastor Lorne said something I’ll never forget. “So if Jesus died for all of humanity, that means He died for me but that He also died for you too. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is. Don’t you think you should give him a second chance?”
I felt a bit of guilt. It hit me right in the heart. Maybe God didn’t hate me. After all, He had spared my life… so far.
“I think you’re whole problem is that you have been trying to control life on your own for too long. You’re trying to be strong and tough. Maybe for once, you should just leave something up to a higher power. As Dr. Wayne Dyer said, Let Go and Let God for a while.”
Everything seemed to make sense. I was so angry and upset at everything that was happening in my life, that I was trying to fix everything myself.
Pastor Lorne continued with “I have to go, my wife is waiting for me to pick her up from work. Can I pray for you before I go though?”
“Sure. Maybe God will listen to you — you know, you being a Pastor and all.”
Pastor Lorne said a prayer and then said he would be back in three days to visit with me again.
“That would be nice — if I’m still alive by then…” I said as my voice trailed off. I looked down and tried to hold back tears.
“Oh, I’m sure you will be.” He said with a smile. “Chin up there. You are loved, more than you know. I’ll see you Friday.” And then he was gone.
After he left, I looked up at the ceiling. “Okay God, maybe you don’t hate me. I’m sorry I thought you did and that I turned my back on you all these years. I don’t know what you have in store for me. If you are going to heal me, then please do it quick. Or if it’s my time, I really don’t want it to be, but if it is, please take me quick. I can’t stand the pain much longer. I leave it in your hands. I’m letting go and leaving this all up to you. I’m not going to try to fight this on my own anymore.”
I can’t explain it, but that night, a true miracle happened. I’m not here to preach or get religious on you. I just know that it’s something I can’t explain. I had the best sleep that night that I’d had since I entered the hospital. The next morning, when the doctor came in to see me, she had a smile on her face instead of a look of concern and worry.
“I can’t explain it, but your blood levels have started to stabilize. The infection is being beaten. You’re being transferred out of ICU to acute care. I’m pretty sure you’re going to pull through young lady! Plus, you can finally have your first meal of solid food tonight to see how your body handles it.”
When Pastor Lorne came back three days later, I was being discharged from the Hospital — eight days after I first walked in. And I was leaving the hospital perfectly normal. Not diabetic, not requiring special enzymes. I thanked Pastor Lorne for visiting me that day, for teaching me and for inspiring me. I promised to keep in touch.
As I left the Hospital, I looked up at the sky. “Thank you” I said.
The next day, I started living my new life. I had been given a second chance at life and this time I wasn’t going to waste it!
I spent time with family, reconnected with friends and picked up more speaking engagements, including speaking at my first International Conference. I started reading books by motivational authors and speakers. I tried out some of their ideas and kept what worked for me and got rid of what didn’t. Let’s just say, I’m not about all the fluff in motivational and personal/self development tactics. I’m about solid tangible steps that work. Anyways, I’m getting ahead of myself…
Because I was no longer afraid to hear the word “no”, my book, The Impact of One Decision, was picked up by Chapters, Coles and Indigo bookstores and went Nationwide. It was also put onto Kindle and carried by Amazon. It soon went International. All because I wasn’t afraid to take a chance on myself for the first time in my life.
After all, how many of us live a mediocre life because we’re too scared to take a chance on ourselves, too afraid of change or too afraid to hear the word “no”.
But this was not the end of my journey. This was just the beginning of a journey that would test me in every possible way. In total, it would be 10 months of the biggest fight for my life. It would test me mentally, emotionally, spiritually and physically.
But that’s for Part 3 of the story tomorrow….
P.S. I forgot to tell you about my book “The Impact of One Decision”. It’s the first part of my story that I mentioned yesterday, but in much more detail. It includes tips on decision making and will show you how every decision you make in your life not only affects you, but everyone around you. I invite you to purchase it through this link:
Or you can order a signed copy from me by contacting me at amanda@amandaoling.com
Remember, you are only one decision away from changing your life.
Until tomorrow — live strong, live with passion and God Bless.
