(no subject)
Post Op
These memories started off jumbled and confused, I doubt the intervening week has helped.
My persistent refusal to push the green button cos it would summon the nurse - contrasted with a much later waiting for the green button to light up so I could press it for more pain relief. A string of patient nurses faces, never ending kindness to what must have been an exasperating patient.
I never did find the "call button" that I'd refused to use because nurses didn't need to be disturbed. The pain relief on demand system disappeared a day or so after the op - probably just as well, I was getting to really enjoy the stuff. I'm still puzzled as to where the 5 hours between 8.00 and 8.05 went on Monday morning. (Two visits by the same consultant, a nurse asking if I was up to a shower or wanted a bowl and help bathing in bed, someone asking what I wanted for breakfast and hours of empty space in between each event, all apparently happened in 5 minutes.
I think there were several attempts to tell me things hadn't gone smoothly, though the first that registered was Tuesday afternoon. My appendix had burst and a chunk of bowel ruptured, that the keyhole had been abandoned in favour of a more conventional opening, that it had been hard work and I was very lucky.
At some point during the first two days, there was some discussion of how near I'd been to having a colostomy - since the ensuing time has been all about getting what's left working again, I haven't tempted fate and asked for further details.
The lady Yvonne who showered me the morning after the op, insisting I had a right to my dignity and actually making me believe I had dignity.
The surgeon who commented about needing a pneumatic drill and a road crew to sort me out, the pain and joy of the laughter that followed his description.
The mystery of why I have a shaved thigh (and why didn't I notice when I was still in hospital)
Its now been 9 days since the op, 5 days since they let me out, 2 since the bowel started working.
While I'm doing the counting days thing, its 10 since the last carbonated drink, 10 since the last real caffeine hit, I did 7 with no net access, but even that's only limited at the moment - energy disappears too quick. The biggy is 10 since the last cigarette, though I can only wish it was even 10 minutes since the last craving.
These memories started off jumbled and confused, I doubt the intervening week has helped.
My persistent refusal to push the green button cos it would summon the nurse - contrasted with a much later waiting for the green button to light up so I could press it for more pain relief. A string of patient nurses faces, never ending kindness to what must have been an exasperating patient.
I never did find the "call button" that I'd refused to use because nurses didn't need to be disturbed. The pain relief on demand system disappeared a day or so after the op - probably just as well, I was getting to really enjoy the stuff. I'm still puzzled as to where the 5 hours between 8.00 and 8.05 went on Monday morning. (Two visits by the same consultant, a nurse asking if I was up to a shower or wanted a bowl and help bathing in bed, someone asking what I wanted for breakfast and hours of empty space in between each event, all apparently happened in 5 minutes.
I think there were several attempts to tell me things hadn't gone smoothly, though the first that registered was Tuesday afternoon. My appendix had burst and a chunk of bowel ruptured, that the keyhole had been abandoned in favour of a more conventional opening, that it had been hard work and I was very lucky.
At some point during the first two days, there was some discussion of how near I'd been to having a colostomy - since the ensuing time has been all about getting what's left working again, I haven't tempted fate and asked for further details.
The lady Yvonne who showered me the morning after the op, insisting I had a right to my dignity and actually making me believe I had dignity.
The surgeon who commented about needing a pneumatic drill and a road crew to sort me out, the pain and joy of the laughter that followed his description.
The mystery of why I have a shaved thigh (and why didn't I notice when I was still in hospital)
Its now been 9 days since the op, 5 days since they let me out, 2 since the bowel started working.
While I'm doing the counting days thing, its 10 since the last carbonated drink, 10 since the last real caffeine hit, I did 7 with no net access, but even that's only limited at the moment - energy disappears too quick. The biggy is 10 since the last cigarette, though I can only wish it was even 10 minutes since the last craving.