I was discharged from the District Nurses on Monday. I still have a small open wound around my belly button that just wont close but they seemed confident that it would close eventually. All of the deep wounds that were infected have healed well and closed over. The scars, while over most of my central and right hand side of my stomach, will be quite narrow. Abdominoplasty (plastic surgery on my stomach) was discussed and will probably come up again when I return to see the surgeon in February. This is due to my stomach having some bumps around the joins. If I wear fitting clothes you can see gaps in my stomach were the joins are. These joins have been improving so perhaps the surgery wont be necessary. I'm not really all that keen on stomach surgery at the moment!
I am heaps better. I am back to full reading strength from last week (once I managed to read a book in one day I knew I was back on track). I'm weak physically, but am heaps stronger than I was even two weeks ago. If I am tired and my internal and external scars are over it then I walk with a bit of a hunch - this is reducing though. I am still prone to the odd period of deep exhaustion (last Friday at school pick up I couldn't follow the conversation with a friend - she took H and sent me home to rest)!
It has been a very strange five months. It was three months yesterday since I went to the hospital for my first operation. I've now read all of #1 husband's blog posts and it is interesting seeing his perspective and updates. I was really sick. I don't remember much of my first week in hospital at all. I remember it took about three staff members to force me out of bed the day after my operation (they needed to coordinate all the drains coming out of me). I can remember the day they took all the drains and pain relief out and spending the day in incredible pain. It was horrid watching my Mum so upset about my level of pain. A particular Registrar increased my distress that day by removing the last drain without my permission. The other doctors with her were quite upset at her behaviour and my distress. I've discussed this with the consultant.
I remember very little eating and drinking. I needed a nasogastric tube four times - explosive vomiting and severe nausea (actually worse than morning sickness) indicated my bowel was obstructed. I didn't realise that air could could cause obstruction. Nearly two months of barely eating resulted in a rapid 20kg weight loss. Now I can eat most things again (oily food isn't really worth eating) but get full very quickly. Also, eating between meals isn't worth it because it results in more toilet trips! I've learnt that water, quite literally, goes straight through me. So I have to drink with meals or have electrolyte water. Trying to drink 3L of water a day mostly at meal times reduces my appetite as well. I take eight tablets a day to try to slow down and bulk out my bowel motions. I also take a further two metamucil tablets to do the same thing. To give some perspective on things, I would be lucky to get away with less than eight or nine toilet trips a day. Over ten and I have to take extra electrolytes.
My first surgery was very scary. I thought that #1 husband would be able to come through to the surgery waiting area with me. So did he. We were both rather upset to be walking together to surgery and to be told rather abruptly that he had to say goodbye to me there. In front of the whole packed reception area. So I started crying and didn't stop until, presumably, I was under anaesthetic. I walked into the theatre like I was off to be executed. By the sixth operation I pretty much recognised everyone and was cracking jokes until I went under. I became very good at timing how much conscious thought I had left between being injected with the first part of the anaesthesia and blanking out. I just had enough time to think of each family member in turn.
As I expected, there were some things that were done really well at the hospital and some things that were not very good. Surgery and the recovery area were very efficient. Nursing care on ward was very mixed - from fantastic and hard working to sloppy and uncaring. Getting a great nurse was awesome - you had him or her for the same shift for three days. Getting a bad nurse was lame for the same reason. I remember being very pleased that one lame nurse was assigned to me for the overnight shift because I figured it was hard for her to screw up taking obs once overnight and getting my morning meds. When I had her during the day it was a disaster. The surgical nurses seemed to me to be run off their feet. It was a very busy ward, and surgical patients seem to have lots of things to monitor.
Seeing the children in hospital was nothing like how I thought it would be. Prior to my admission I thought that I would see them everyday. This became too hard on everyone. The youngest would wail 'Mummy, Mummy, Mummy' as she left, leaving everyone in tears. It took a lot of my energy to be as well looking as possible when they visited. Until this trip I had never been away from the youngest for longer than a day, and from the oldest longer than the few days I was in hospital after my caesarean. I missed them both, but was too tired to see them. After years of being immersed in the trivia of their day to day lives they rapidly became kind of abstract to me. I didn't have the energy to think about them much at all. I was so glad to be finally discharged from hospital so that they could get used to seeing me each day again. I think my oldest daughter understands that I am back home now for good, the youngest still gets a bit worried if she comes home and can't find me.
I consider myself very lucky that I was checked when I was. Early treatment is life saving. There is a smallish chance that the girls will also have the same problem as me - they will be offered colonscopies from their twenties. If they do have the same problem (serrated polyposis syndrome) then finding out earlier makes it more likely that they will be able to avoid needing their bowel removed until they are much older (as they will be able to keep on top of polyp removal). I'm fortunate that my treatment is complete - I can't fathom getting through all that surgery and then needing radiation and chemotherapy. For me, I will have an annual blood test and a rectal exam to make sure all is well.
This is my last post. In a few weeks time I'm sure I will be back to full strength. It is time to leave the medical world behind and get back into the details of my usual life. Thank you all for reading, and for your support. We received support from so many people, in so many ways. Help with meals and childcare was awesome. Well timed emails and messages of support were awesome. DVD boxsets and hard drives packed with media were awesome. Books and magazines - awesome!
And finally, my family - AWESOME. My Mum spent six weeks living with us during all these surgeries. This must have been tough on both my parents. #1 husband - was very much #1. He visited every night, and sometimes before work. I felt bad for putting him through so much worry and extra work. He did an amazing job.
Thank you and goodbye!
Wednesday 28 August 2013
Thursday 1 August 2013
One month out of hospital!
I'm thrilled that I have been home for four weeks. Home feels normal and the girls are becoming less concerned that I will just disappear back to the hospital. I'm also less convinced that I will have to return to hospital!
The nurses visit daily to change the bandages on my stomach. The wound has slowly been shrinking (both in depth and width). I've learnt a lot of unpleasant wound related words: 'dehiscence' and 'slough' are two rather gross ones. I've had fun calculating the cost of my treatment:
I am very slowly regaining my strength. I can't walk very far - about 200m one way at the moment, but I'm getting stronger each day. I can walk far enough to get to second hand books and magazines, so figure my basic needs are being met! I am BORED. Until the start of this week I've not felt like doing much except read or watch TV (TV box sets were invented for the ill/ rehabilitating person). I planned out the summer garden and ordered some seeds to fill in one afternoon.
I see the surgeon this coming week for what I assume is the last time. I think we have covered off most topics related to recovery. I'm still stunned that he brought up the topic of having plastic surgery on my stomach later on - but now that the wounds are getting close to being closed I can see his point - my stomach is lumpy and bumpy. I'm still not keen to jump into more stomach surgery anytime soon. I'm hoping to get his blessing to drive again. Hopefully in a few more weeks I'll be up to doing the school run again.
I am annoyed by my diet and bowels on a daily basis - until I look back and realise that I've made a lot of progress in this area too. With medication I don't need to go to the toilet too frequently. Gas no longer churns painfully through my bowel. Food still travels very quickly through my system and it is this that I have a long wait to resolve. I've started trying other food (basically because I need fresh vegetables). Having not eaten onion or garlic for a long time it tastes ridiculously strong to me. Hopefully in the next month or so I can start eating the skin of vegetables again. I experimentally tried a small amount of fizzy drink with most of the bubbles stirred out. Mistake. Since flat soft drinks taste disgusting I think it will be a very long time before a Diet Coke crosses these lips!
This entire experience still feels unreal - the fact that I had cancer is strange. I jokingly used the term 'cancer survivor' the other day but don't really feel entitled to it - I barely had cancer long enough to get my head around saying 'I have cancer.' I am absolutely floored by the day to day courage of people who have cancer and experience months or years of treatment. A lot of people with bowel cancer face surgery, radiotherapy and chemotherapy. I can't imagine getting to the end of recovering from this surgery knowing that a gruelling course of chemo was ahead.
The nurses visit daily to change the bandages on my stomach. The wound has slowly been shrinking (both in depth and width). I've learnt a lot of unpleasant wound related words: 'dehiscence' and 'slough' are two rather gross ones. I've had fun calculating the cost of my treatment:
- $1000 per inpatient day
- $1000 per trip to theatre
- $80 per nurse home visit
- $100 per day for vac pump rental
- $15 per day for wound dressings, creams, medications and other equipment
- $160 per home infusion of antibiotics
I am very slowly regaining my strength. I can't walk very far - about 200m one way at the moment, but I'm getting stronger each day. I can walk far enough to get to second hand books and magazines, so figure my basic needs are being met! I am BORED. Until the start of this week I've not felt like doing much except read or watch TV (TV box sets were invented for the ill/ rehabilitating person). I planned out the summer garden and ordered some seeds to fill in one afternoon.
I see the surgeon this coming week for what I assume is the last time. I think we have covered off most topics related to recovery. I'm still stunned that he brought up the topic of having plastic surgery on my stomach later on - but now that the wounds are getting close to being closed I can see his point - my stomach is lumpy and bumpy. I'm still not keen to jump into more stomach surgery anytime soon. I'm hoping to get his blessing to drive again. Hopefully in a few more weeks I'll be up to doing the school run again.
I am annoyed by my diet and bowels on a daily basis - until I look back and realise that I've made a lot of progress in this area too. With medication I don't need to go to the toilet too frequently. Gas no longer churns painfully through my bowel. Food still travels very quickly through my system and it is this that I have a long wait to resolve. I've started trying other food (basically because I need fresh vegetables). Having not eaten onion or garlic for a long time it tastes ridiculously strong to me. Hopefully in the next month or so I can start eating the skin of vegetables again. I experimentally tried a small amount of fizzy drink with most of the bubbles stirred out. Mistake. Since flat soft drinks taste disgusting I think it will be a very long time before a Diet Coke crosses these lips!
This entire experience still feels unreal - the fact that I had cancer is strange. I jokingly used the term 'cancer survivor' the other day but don't really feel entitled to it - I barely had cancer long enough to get my head around saying 'I have cancer.' I am absolutely floored by the day to day courage of people who have cancer and experience months or years of treatment. A lot of people with bowel cancer face surgery, radiotherapy and chemotherapy. I can't imagine getting to the end of recovering from this surgery knowing that a gruelling course of chemo was ahead.
Saturday 13 July 2013
The very cold day.
I'm at home today and the temptation to drop by and hang at the hospital is high. It is freezing cold here!
I did get my vacuum dressing off last Tuesday. It is so much easier walking around with lots of bandages on your stomach rather than rock hard foam and a tube attached to a noisy machine. The surgeon seemed pleased with my progress and we grilled him with many questions. I also learnt that I have absolutely no rectum. This came as a surprise because we had assumed that only the portion where the cancer was had been removed. No large colon, no rectum. This vastly simplifies my ongoing monitoring - I will probably only need an annual blood test to check my CEA (a cancer marker) and perhaps some kind of small test involving checking my anus? But obviously no more colonoscopies and perhaps not even a sigmoidoscopy. There is nothing to check.
The following day the antibiotics were discontinued and the PIC line removed from my arm. I officially have no tubes in me! I was so tempted to ask them to ditch the last batch of antibiotics but they told me that each tube cost about $160 and were personalised to me (so not returnable). It made it easier to swallow that down and just take the last batch.
I feel a lot more human.
I'm just a bit weak still. I can now get through most days without needing a nap. I still need to rest though, particularly if the girls are around. I have a little trouble sleeping and I need to take pain medication overnight or can get too uncomfortable to sleep. I have, overall, dramatically dropped the amount of pain medication I'm taking and have now had two wound changes narcotic-free! The nurses are very gentle, and to stop my skin getting destroyed from all these wound changes they use this awesome stuff that dissolves the 'sticky' on plasters. It is a fantastic invention.
Now the bit of my recovery that is less obvious but very time consuming for me. My small bowel needs to get used to acting like a long bowel. Much like toilet training toddlers, I need to relearn what the various bowel sensations all mean. At the moment it is typical to need to use the toilet around 10+ times a day. This should settle down slowly. Also, (and avert your eyes if you are delicate) I can't currently tell the difference between a bowel motion coming and gas wanting to pass so I have to go to the toilet in either case. Gas travelling through my small bowel is quite sore in places - very churny. I think it is worse over some of the surgical joins. This should settle down, but some nights it is hard to sit still. I've been given some medications, which help a bit. I'm just worried about the long term situation. There should be big improvement over six months, with the situation at one year likely to be permanent. During this time I will also try and increase my diet - the 'low residue' diet continues to bore me!
So unless something dramatic happens I think that the blog updates will wind down a lot. I don't think that there is a lot of great interest in returning bowel function, slowly increasing my physical strength etc. I will though post when I can drive, and when my wound is finally healed! I'm looking forward to that time.
I did get my vacuum dressing off last Tuesday. It is so much easier walking around with lots of bandages on your stomach rather than rock hard foam and a tube attached to a noisy machine. The surgeon seemed pleased with my progress and we grilled him with many questions. I also learnt that I have absolutely no rectum. This came as a surprise because we had assumed that only the portion where the cancer was had been removed. No large colon, no rectum. This vastly simplifies my ongoing monitoring - I will probably only need an annual blood test to check my CEA (a cancer marker) and perhaps some kind of small test involving checking my anus? But obviously no more colonoscopies and perhaps not even a sigmoidoscopy. There is nothing to check.
The following day the antibiotics were discontinued and the PIC line removed from my arm. I officially have no tubes in me! I was so tempted to ask them to ditch the last batch of antibiotics but they told me that each tube cost about $160 and were personalised to me (so not returnable). It made it easier to swallow that down and just take the last batch.
I feel a lot more human.
I'm just a bit weak still. I can now get through most days without needing a nap. I still need to rest though, particularly if the girls are around. I have a little trouble sleeping and I need to take pain medication overnight or can get too uncomfortable to sleep. I have, overall, dramatically dropped the amount of pain medication I'm taking and have now had two wound changes narcotic-free! The nurses are very gentle, and to stop my skin getting destroyed from all these wound changes they use this awesome stuff that dissolves the 'sticky' on plasters. It is a fantastic invention.
Now the bit of my recovery that is less obvious but very time consuming for me. My small bowel needs to get used to acting like a long bowel. Much like toilet training toddlers, I need to relearn what the various bowel sensations all mean. At the moment it is typical to need to use the toilet around 10+ times a day. This should settle down slowly. Also, (and avert your eyes if you are delicate) I can't currently tell the difference between a bowel motion coming and gas wanting to pass so I have to go to the toilet in either case. Gas travelling through my small bowel is quite sore in places - very churny. I think it is worse over some of the surgical joins. This should settle down, but some nights it is hard to sit still. I've been given some medications, which help a bit. I'm just worried about the long term situation. There should be big improvement over six months, with the situation at one year likely to be permanent. During this time I will also try and increase my diet - the 'low residue' diet continues to bore me!
So unless something dramatic happens I think that the blog updates will wind down a lot. I don't think that there is a lot of great interest in returning bowel function, slowly increasing my physical strength etc. I will though post when I can drive, and when my wound is finally healed! I'm looking forward to that time.
Monday 8 July 2013
Home
Home is going well. My day has a predictable routine of meals, pain pills, antibiotics (district nurse or Vincent) and naps. I think I'm getting a little stronger, but still got puffed showering and dressing the other day.
The viewing gallery - watching the district nurse change my wound dressing!
Today I return to my nemesis (the hospital) for two clinic appointments. This morning I'll see the surgeons to check my wound. I'm hopeful that the vacuum pump can come off. I'm really sick of dragging this thing around. Between my central wound and the current wound I've been dragging around vacuum pumps for three or four weeks.
In the afternoon I'm seeing the infectious disease team to see if I can stop taking my antibiotics. Having a 24 hour bottle of antibiotics infusing into my arm (in addition to carrying around the pump) is a real downer.
Lets hope for relief from one or both of my attachments!
Tuesday 2 July 2013
Hospital in the home
It takes a lot. A lot to get me home. I'd bet that I'd be in hospital still if it wasn't for the fact that my infected wound is now less interesting to the medical team. From a nursing perspective, being in hospital makes sense.
The district nurse couldn't come until the pharmacy couriered over my antibiotics (specially made up in Auckland and sent to the hospital).
When she arrived she told me she was further delayed due to trying to understand the discharge info and having to create a file with sections for my paperwork.
This excludes the chilli bin of vacuum infusers containing vancymicin (it infuses over 24 hours) and the bag of vials with my other antibiotic.
My uncool 24/7 companions.
Then she bought in the stuff
The appointment took an hour, tomorrow it will probably take longer as I have a dreaded wound change.
The nurse is already trying to get #1 husband to administer the drugs one day in the weekend....apparently patients are often taught how to do this when it is a regular occurrence.
The house looks like a fricken hospital.
------
The children are getting used to me being at home. The youngest though felt like checking around 2:30am!
Home.
There is not much more to say. It is amazing reading my discharge summary how sick I was a week ago. The wound on my stomach was seriously infected. In order to get home I have had to agree to some hardware...
I have a diagonal body bag containing a 24 hour continuous antibiotic infusion. It will be replaced each day by a district nurse.
I still have the vacuum pump on my stomach which seems to me to be producing less fluid. The swelling and redness has diminished. I will have the wound changed by the district nurse, then in clinic over the next week.
Sunday 30 June 2013
Discharge 2.0
I'm being discharged tomorrow. It feels as though this will be an actual, permanent discharge. It involves an incredible number of people. I will need to keep my vacuum dressing on for probably a fortnight and have a continuous infusion of antibiotics. This means I'll be carrying around a noisy bag and something that looks like a soda stream bottle constantly.
I have mixed feelings about being discharged. I've never left hospital before being so debilitated. I'm seriously weak, my arms and legs look very scrawny. I am actually not fully capable of looking after myself.
The wound change involved serious narcotics, anti-emetics and lots of wincing. It went well, and I didn't have the same pain I normally get after the procedure. It was quite stressful though as a number of staff were involved and I was being grilled on discharge plans. Once they finished I had another anti-emetic which started my head spinning so I wisely decided to have a nap.
By the time I woke, had three hours of antibiotics, plus thirty minutes of a new antibiotic it was too late to be discharged.
I'll leave tomorrow. The first thing I'll do is go and see the surgeon in clinic!
Scared
The medical team decided to pass me by today because I was in the toilet. I thought that they were going to do my wound change with all the relevant drugs... Instead the nurse is about to do my first non theatre wound change. If it goes well (I don't scream the place down) then I will be sent home this afternoon.
Apparently district nurses will come at 10am and 10pm daily to administer antibiotics, then return three hours later to switch them off.
Friday 28 June 2013
Inching closer...
I can taste discharge. It feels tantalisingly near.
Back to theatre today for my last wound dressing under anaesthetic. The most boring place in the world must be the inpatient holding area for theatre - a group of narrow bays, only slightly larger than the bed itself, with just enough space for a nurse to stand and ask you the same questions you've been asked five times before. Theatre staff love order and protocol. It is a good thing. But it is still a little frustrating repeating yourself. The omnipresent hospital curtains block you from at least looking out into the hallway. On the wall, for entertainment, there is a laminated (so wipe-clean) picture of two baby black bears.
Today theatre was fun because everyone I encountered I'd met before. It got rather jolly. I went under cracking jokes. There wasn't even time for them to give me the standard 'think of your happy place' talk.
Today theatre was fun because everyone I encountered I'd met before. It got rather jolly. I went under cracking jokes. There wasn't even time for them to give me the standard 'think of your happy place' talk.
After waking it was PICC line time. This went to take the rest of the afternoon. It wasn't so much technically difficult as dependent on other people and services to be available. Unlike the first time I had a line inserted there was no assistant for the nurse. This makes working in a sterile field challenging. So she was forced to ask whoever was nearby for help. An X-Ray is required to validate the position, this must be signed off by a anaesthetist - all of whom were in theatre. There was an hour delay - and then no one could agree on if the line was in the right place. They decided to make it 2cm shorter, then X-Ray again. After five hours in recovery I finally made it back to my room. Dinner had long passed and I was starving. I think this is a good sign, as I haven't felt hungry in a while. It took awhile to find food suitable for my current diet, I was though very glad for my banana, yoghurt and egg sandwich!
------
Saturday
There has been a lot of back and forth over weekend leave, discharge, the last minute requirement to have two weeks of IV Vancymycin and my wound vacuum arrangement. I was supposed to have most of Saturday and Sunday at home, until it dawned on the nurses that it takes 3.5 hours to infuse the antibiotic. For some reason, my day nurse started today's dose at 10am so it was well after lunch before I got home for a few hours. I have to go back this evening for a further dose so will sleep over. To be frank, I'm much weaker than I thought. All I feel like doing is sleeping, but I miss the kids so much that I don't really want to do that.
The current plan is that the surgical team will now try and change my wound dressing on the ward on Monday. They will get out the big gun pain relievers (morphine and fentanyl) in case there is a problem. If they can change it without me being in too much pain then I will be discharged and the district nurse will do future changes. I will have to come back to clinic appointments to review the wound.
It actually sounds like the next stage will be quite challenging: I'm so weak. Going to appointments will be hard work.
------
Saturday
There has been a lot of back and forth over weekend leave, discharge, the last minute requirement to have two weeks of IV Vancymycin and my wound vacuum arrangement. I was supposed to have most of Saturday and Sunday at home, until it dawned on the nurses that it takes 3.5 hours to infuse the antibiotic. For some reason, my day nurse started today's dose at 10am so it was well after lunch before I got home for a few hours. I have to go back this evening for a further dose so will sleep over. To be frank, I'm much weaker than I thought. All I feel like doing is sleeping, but I miss the kids so much that I don't really want to do that.
The current plan is that the surgical team will now try and change my wound dressing on the ward on Monday. They will get out the big gun pain relievers (morphine and fentanyl) in case there is a problem. If they can change it without me being in too much pain then I will be discharged and the district nurse will do future changes. I will have to come back to clinic appointments to review the wound.
It actually sounds like the next stage will be quite challenging: I'm so weak. Going to appointments will be hard work.
Thursday 27 June 2013
Much like a typical NZ test innings.....
this will be short and lacking in intent.
Well well. Who'd have thunk it, huh?
She's well enough now to do her own updating herself, but I thought I'd chip in with some updates from the Outside. I've got to warn you though - don't get too excited, because although you might be expecting some substance to tonight's entry, I'll only provide a couple of flourishes to remind you what I'm capable of before I come to a tame, premature end.
Much like the innings of a NZ middle-order batsman.
(that was one of them)
The biggest news of course is the long-anticipated departure of Nana, a mere 2 1/2 weeks after she was expecting to leave. You know who to blame for that. The younglings have taken it in their stride (the littlest has tiny wee bouncing strides). What I'm really looking forward to is seeing how I cope with solo parenting over the next while. Tonight's dishes and laundry are done. Laundry on the rack. Off work again tomorrow.
As you may already have read there is much doubt over what's going to happen over the next few days. There could be an early discharge with heavy District Nurse input into wound/dressing care. There is talk of a 2-week course of IV antibiotics (vancomycin) which would again require DN visits (and another PICC line). And then there's my cycle holiday around Peru starting next week. I'm planning to tell her in the most sympathetic way possible.
Most interesting of all is the possibility that I might get to observe tomorrow's vacuum dressing change in theatre, so I know what to do if the DN runs into difficulty when she's home. Of course since she's on the acute list it might not happen until I'm not free, but I relish the chance to stand in the background in theatre, telling the Surgeons how I'd do it differently (and in a more generalised, holistic manner).
My dad is settling into his role. He says his ankle can go floppy. I told him to see his GP. Who was my GP from as far back as I remember. He must be 94 or something by now. And the land that the surgery's on must be worth a mint.
The bathroom is working out nicely, thank you.
#1 Husband
Well well. Who'd have thunk it, huh?
She's well enough now to do her own updating herself, but I thought I'd chip in with some updates from the Outside. I've got to warn you though - don't get too excited, because although you might be expecting some substance to tonight's entry, I'll only provide a couple of flourishes to remind you what I'm capable of before I come to a tame, premature end.
Much like the innings of a NZ middle-order batsman.
(that was one of them)
The biggest news of course is the long-anticipated departure of Nana, a mere 2 1/2 weeks after she was expecting to leave. You know who to blame for that. The younglings have taken it in their stride (the littlest has tiny wee bouncing strides). What I'm really looking forward to is seeing how I cope with solo parenting over the next while. Tonight's dishes and laundry are done. Laundry on the rack. Off work again tomorrow.
As you may already have read there is much doubt over what's going to happen over the next few days. There could be an early discharge with heavy District Nurse input into wound/dressing care. There is talk of a 2-week course of IV antibiotics (vancomycin) which would again require DN visits (and another PICC line). And then there's my cycle holiday around Peru starting next week. I'm planning to tell her in the most sympathetic way possible.
Most interesting of all is the possibility that I might get to observe tomorrow's vacuum dressing change in theatre, so I know what to do if the DN runs into difficulty when she's home. Of course since she's on the acute list it might not happen until I'm not free, but I relish the chance to stand in the background in theatre, telling the Surgeons how I'd do it differently (and in a more generalised, holistic manner).
My dad is settling into his role. He says his ankle can go floppy. I told him to see his GP. Who was my GP from as far back as I remember. He must be 94 or something by now. And the land that the surgery's on must be worth a mint.
The bathroom is working out nicely, thank you.
#1 Husband
Wednesday 26 June 2013
The low residue diet.
They gave me soy milk for breakfast and I couldn't work out why. It is part of the fun new diet I'm on as I heal. I appealed to the dietician and got milk restored.
I might be able to go home this weekend. I know I say this every weekend but this time people feel good about it. My blood results are looking really good and the last wee bit of wound on my stomach is showing excellent signs of healing. I kept down the food I was given yesterday and my bowel started working again. I spent much of the night in the toilet. It takes awhile for things to 'thicken up.'
I'm off to theatre tomorrow to have the wound cleaned out again. Everyone seems hopeful that the wound is getting better. Some infectious disease docs came today to evaluate if more specialised antibiotics are required. It was a lengthy and at times confusing consultation. I'll let the surgeons tell me what the outcome is tomorrow!
Tuesday 25 June 2013
Hey, how about a longer stay?
Well yesterday was an unpleasant meltdown. I raged about being back in hospital. My behaviour was very negative: I tried sleeping away the world, and finally I hid (found a meeting room). There was a lot of indulgent crying and finally I just got very stressed about the number of people in the room with me. It really felt as though the walls were closing in. I was also super weak. On one short walk with Mum I had to be wheelchaired back to the room. In the end I asked for a quieter room, a double or single. The four bedded was frazzling me. The shift coordinator took pity on me and before I knew it I was in a single room. A few deep breaths later, and more visitors and I felt normal again.
Thank you to everyone who visited, texted, wrote FB messages or otherwise helped me and my family yesterday. It was a low day and it all really, really helped.
(Slightly ashamed of yesterday's one woman pity party).
Last night I went back to theatre to have the right wound cleaned. This is the wound where the stoma was. Given that the stoma failed, it is no surprise that a lot of mean bacteria took root. There was a lot of pus under the skin, but thankfully not eating into the stomach wall. I have a vacuum dressing on the site now, this will remain until the weekend. It will need changing in three or four days so I will probably be in hospital until the weekend.
The other issue is eating. I haven't been holding down food. The bowel just declines to accept it, resulting in severe nausea and vomiting. The theory is that when the infection is under control the bowel will happily process food. Tonight's dinner stayed down. Finger's crossed.
Monday 24 June 2013
Morning update
It is all very familiar. I've been admitted back to the same ward, sadly in a four bedroom side ward.
I had a CT last night which was kind of thrilling. I was kidnapped! An orderly turned up 30 minutes early to take me. I said to him that we were waiting to have a line put in my arm. My nurse also called over to tell him to wait. He ignored both of us. I got taken down to CT. However CT needs a working line in your arm, as well as consent. Since my veins have proved troubling, this is no small matter. The house surgeon had previously not managed to get a line situated; this time she got it on the second go: she did a happy dance!
The CT showed a rather annoyed bowel, called an ilieus. There isn't an obvious cause for this though. The theory is that there is a small wound infection on my right, this could be annoying the bowel.
So.....back to theatre for more wound cleansing and another vacuum dressing. They will also test my ability to hold down food via my NG tube. So, another few days here.
Have kind of reached wits end now. It takes a fair amount of bravery each time I have to have anaesthesia and I really hate being in the hospital now. I am so sad for the girls: I told them last Friday I was finished with the hospital. They are both showing signs of having reached their personal limits. The oldest is clingy and the youngest is ill mannered: both not typical behaviours.
Sunday 23 June 2013
Back in paradise
I lasted longer this time, and at least had the weekend at home. But I've struggled with nausea and pain and it turns out that my bowel isn't really processing what I eat terribly well. It could be obstructed, or leaking. I don't know. All I know I'd that I've spent the day in ED and I'm off to the ward now. So lame.
Saturday 22 June 2013
At home.
I'm thrilled with being home. It is very tiring being around the kids though. They have quickly learnt that Mum is going to be lying on the couch and doing nothing. I move between the couch and bed. Today I achieved by including a shower in my couch/bed routine.
It surprises me that just before discharge I was still getting a lot of treatment. In the above photo I have an NG tube in my nose because I couldn't tolerate food. When I felt sick, they would use a large syringe to aspirate my stomach contents. The silver bag is my artificial nutrition - this was great as it gave me strength after a long period of not eating. I'm also receiving saline and my PCA (pain relief button is going). You can't really see but I also have two drains coming out of my wound.
The district nurse came today and removed the drains. For the first time in a month, there is nothing sticking out of me!
I probably had the PIC line pit in too late. My veins gave up receiving lines for fluids so this was the solution. It was quite good because they could take blood from the line as well as deliver medications.
------
I'm incredibly weak and my main focus at the moment is just getting stronger. I'm advised to eat high protein for wound healing. I also have to eat low fibre food generally and carb heavy. This is to help thicken my poo (tmi) and reduce the frequency with which I need to go to the toilet.
On my last day I got the lab results. It turns out that they didn't get all of the cancer in the first place and some was still in the colon. Since the whole colon was removed it shouldn't be a problem. Importantly, my lymph nodes were clear. I don't need any more treatment. So, apart from follow up appointments and district nurse visits I'm at the end of my treatment. It has been a strange experience, being a 'cancer patient' for twelve weeks. I recognise how lucky I am in comparison with others.
Friday 21 June 2013
she's home
"mummy's tummy is still sore" was a common refrain this afternoon, as there were many cuddles and attempts to climb on top of her. And don't get me started on the kids.
Food will be tricky for a while, as we figure out just what she can eat, and in what quantities. As she's barely eaten in over 3 weeks, she finds that the act of chewing makes her jaw sore. Mobility, as I suspected, is also an issue and our lack of electric bed will be a hindrance to grimace-free entry and dismount.
I forgot to mention yesterday that the pathology report said that the sample that they received was 1.1m long. Ouch.
Can you imagine a 3 1/2 week hospital stay without the internet?
This is the first time in, like, forever, that I've been at home in the mid-evening, and frankly I can't remember what I'm supposed to be doing. Of course she has been asleep since 8:30, so our usual evening banter has yet to return. I seem to have stopped watching evening TV in recent weeks and even though I'm not missing it, I look forward to sinking back into my flat-screen rut. And the Ashes start soon so there will be more GMT + 0 cricket that will continue to scramble my sleep cycle.
I started doing these blog entries to take the pressure off her while she recuperated. As she's back, it's time for things go back to normal and for her to come up with a couple of cricket puns for a change.
While I'm not quite willing to say goodbye yet, I guess I'll be stepping back now. All good things must pass.
Be the tap.
#1 Husband
Food will be tricky for a while, as we figure out just what she can eat, and in what quantities. As she's barely eaten in over 3 weeks, she finds that the act of chewing makes her jaw sore. Mobility, as I suspected, is also an issue and our lack of electric bed will be a hindrance to grimace-free entry and dismount.
I forgot to mention yesterday that the pathology report said that the sample that they received was 1.1m long. Ouch.
Can you imagine a 3 1/2 week hospital stay without the internet?
This is the first time in, like, forever, that I've been at home in the mid-evening, and frankly I can't remember what I'm supposed to be doing. Of course she has been asleep since 8:30, so our usual evening banter has yet to return. I seem to have stopped watching evening TV in recent weeks and even though I'm not missing it, I look forward to sinking back into my flat-screen rut. And the Ashes start soon so there will be more GMT + 0 cricket that will continue to scramble my sleep cycle.
I started doing these blog entries to take the pressure off her while she recuperated. As she's back, it's time for things go back to normal and for her to come up with a couple of cricket puns for a change.
While I'm not quite willing to say goodbye yet, I guess I'll be stepping back now. All good things must pass.
Be the tap.
#1 Husband
Thursday 20 June 2013
much like the NZ cricket team at any knockout tournament....
she's coming home sooner than expected.
As in today.
When they make a decision, a decision sure does get made.
I'm still taking it in. Larger daughter is delighted, but we haven't told the other one yet. I think Nana is looking forward to someone else being at home.
Drains to stay in for a week, with district nurse visits. Her Surgeon doubts any new news will come from the histology. We've seen a copy of the preliminary result - interestingly, although the Gastroenterologist was confident he'd removed the tumour when he did the original colonoscopy (which feels like it happened about 8 years ago now) there was still a bit of tumour left at that site. Very interesting, no? I guess people knew what they were talking about when she was invited to choose to have the surgery.
I've gotta go - there will be much packing later today.
#1 Husband
ps - the house survived
She should never have told me how to do that.
As in today.
When they make a decision, a decision sure does get made.
I'm still taking it in. Larger daughter is delighted, but we haven't told the other one yet. I think Nana is looking forward to someone else being at home.
Drains to stay in for a week, with district nurse visits. Her Surgeon doubts any new news will come from the histology. We've seen a copy of the preliminary result - interestingly, although the Gastroenterologist was confident he'd removed the tumour when he did the original colonoscopy (which feels like it happened about 8 years ago now) there was still a bit of tumour left at that site. Very interesting, no? I guess people knew what they were talking about when she was invited to choose to have the surgery.
I've gotta go - there will be much packing later today.
#1 Husband
ps - the house survived
She should never have told me how to do that.
much like on day 3 of a (5-day) test match involving NZ...
it seems like we're approaching the end already.
A veritable whirlwind of activity, today has been.
I can barely keep up. For the last 2 weeks I've effectively been telling you how little things have changed, but now I almost have to keep a list.
Most crucially, the team have discussed the end point. The are talking about a discharge - this weekend!. Personally I find a weekend discharge after this type of stay an interesting idea, especially if it's on the Sunday. Exactly who will be around to give that final check to confirm that all is well?
She is now free of her TPN feeding. Again, interesting timing. I acknowledge that I'm no expert in TPN, and I don't fully understand the (very specific) criteria for being on it, but in total she only had it for 2 days, and at the start was only on a very slow rate. The intention was to address the weight loss and relative malnutrition from the previous 3 weeks of eating nothing. Now, she is finally eating again, but it seems a lot of effort (including PICC line) for a couple of days of treatment.
She's eating again. Even toast. Not much, mind you - she says she ate about 1/4 of what seemed to be a meagre dinner. But things will have shrunk a bit and it'll take time for her capacity to eat returns to normal. Then there's the side issue of what she can and can't eat. She's been getting chummy with the Dietician, who tells her there'll be a bit of a list of yes/no food for the next month or so, and that she'll need to up her protein to assist healing.
PCA gone. At long last my nemesis Tom the button has been banished. As I warned her, any relationship that is based purely on one half supplying narcotics to the other is unlikely to lead to lasting happiness.
Naso-gastric tube gone. No more having her bile draining into a bag like she was the Queen of Prussia. Now miss lah-de-dah will simply have to vomit like the rest of us. "Let them eat cake" she said. Well, now she'll find that cake coming back up tastes like sugary chunder.
She has no more pumps or vacuums plugged into her. No whirring, no beeping, and no having to unplug them to go to the toilet. The room is eerily quite, save for the gentle sigh of uprooted trees slamming against the window.
She just showed me how to do that link thing with webpages.
I'm sure I won't become addicted.
She still has 2 wound drains, the PICC line, and the last IV line I put in on the 17th (I know it was the 17th because, as per protocols and best practice, I date them). She's sweating less. I presume that her bloods are reasonable.
My dad got out of hospital yesterday and is taking less pain relief than I think he should. I've told him to watch for signs of low blood pressure, because I don't want him to faint, fall, and do the other leg.
#1 husband
A veritable whirlwind of activity, today has been.
I can barely keep up. For the last 2 weeks I've effectively been telling you how little things have changed, but now I almost have to keep a list.
Most crucially, the team have discussed the end point. The are talking about a discharge - this weekend!. Personally I find a weekend discharge after this type of stay an interesting idea, especially if it's on the Sunday. Exactly who will be around to give that final check to confirm that all is well?
She is now free of her TPN feeding. Again, interesting timing. I acknowledge that I'm no expert in TPN, and I don't fully understand the (very specific) criteria for being on it, but in total she only had it for 2 days, and at the start was only on a very slow rate. The intention was to address the weight loss and relative malnutrition from the previous 3 weeks of eating nothing. Now, she is finally eating again, but it seems a lot of effort (including PICC line) for a couple of days of treatment.
She's eating again. Even toast. Not much, mind you - she says she ate about 1/4 of what seemed to be a meagre dinner. But things will have shrunk a bit and it'll take time for her capacity to eat returns to normal. Then there's the side issue of what she can and can't eat. She's been getting chummy with the Dietician, who tells her there'll be a bit of a list of yes/no food for the next month or so, and that she'll need to up her protein to assist healing.
PCA gone. At long last my nemesis Tom the button has been banished. As I warned her, any relationship that is based purely on one half supplying narcotics to the other is unlikely to lead to lasting happiness.
Naso-gastric tube gone. No more having her bile draining into a bag like she was the Queen of Prussia. Now miss lah-de-dah will simply have to vomit like the rest of us. "Let them eat cake" she said. Well, now she'll find that cake coming back up tastes like sugary chunder.
She has no more pumps or vacuums plugged into her. No whirring, no beeping, and no having to unplug them to go to the toilet. The room is eerily quite, save for the gentle sigh of uprooted trees slamming against the window.
She just showed me how to do that link thing with webpages.
I'm sure I won't become addicted.
She still has 2 wound drains, the PICC line, and the last IV line I put in on the 17th (I know it was the 17th because, as per protocols and best practice, I date them). She's sweating less. I presume that her bloods are reasonable.
My dad got out of hospital yesterday and is taking less pain relief than I think he should. I've told him to watch for signs of low blood pressure, because I don't want him to faint, fall, and do the other leg.
#1 husband
Wednesday 19 June 2013
Night routine
7:30pm: the ward starts settling in for the night. I take wee nap.
8-8.30pm: #1 husband arrives for blogging, chatting and exchange of clothes. Fingerprick test
9.30: no point going to sleep
10:00pm: meds, last obs from afternoon nurses.
10:30pm: try getting to sleep.
12:00: first round of obs for night shift.
2:00am: fingerprick test.
6:00am: fingerprick test, blood test, medications.
6:55am: kitchen staff enter to replace water jugs. The day begins.
In amongst all these there are toilet trips, and IV bag alarms going off - these usually need changing overnight as well.
No cricket pun. NZ team simply useless
Oh, wait - unlike the NZ cricket team....
she's had the sweet taste of success.
There you go.
4 Tblsp pumpkin mash
1/2 tub yoghurt
Place in mouth. Chew and swallow. Don't puke it up. This is the recipe for her first solid lunch since the stoma reversal a week ago
Dinner:
6 Tbsp pumpkin mash
3-4 florettes boiled cauliflower
2 Tbsp mashed potato
Method as above.
She's quite pleased with herself. When you include her impressive walking skills ("look - I can walk") she's almost intolerable. Tom the PCA button remains, but his influence is on the wane. In the next couple of days it looks like he'll stop sharing her bed.
When we drop the young one off at creche she usually kicks up quite a fuss, with tears and everything. At the very least she needs a direct transfer to a teacher. But today, I plonked her down on the floor only near one of the teachers, and she almost waved me away, such was her contentment. I suppose you'll tell me that's a good thing. I'd say she's missing mum, if the growing list of things that Nana's not allowed to do with/for her is anything to go by.
The other one claims sore throat so it looks like being a home day tomorrow. I don't think the shared room is working out for her so well - it seems junior is causing a bit of sleep deprivation. I can sympathize - well, I did sort of, at 1:30 and 5 this morning.
This finally looks like being that much-vaunted short post I keep going on about.
#1 Husband
she's had the sweet taste of success.
There you go.
4 Tblsp pumpkin mash
1/2 tub yoghurt
Place in mouth. Chew and swallow. Don't puke it up. This is the recipe for her first solid lunch since the stoma reversal a week ago
Dinner:
6 Tbsp pumpkin mash
3-4 florettes boiled cauliflower
2 Tbsp mashed potato
Method as above.
She's quite pleased with herself. When you include her impressive walking skills ("look - I can walk") she's almost intolerable. Tom the PCA button remains, but his influence is on the wane. In the next couple of days it looks like he'll stop sharing her bed.
When we drop the young one off at creche she usually kicks up quite a fuss, with tears and everything. At the very least she needs a direct transfer to a teacher. But today, I plonked her down on the floor only near one of the teachers, and she almost waved me away, such was her contentment. I suppose you'll tell me that's a good thing. I'd say she's missing mum, if the growing list of things that Nana's not allowed to do with/for her is anything to go by.
The other one claims sore throat so it looks like being a home day tomorrow. I don't think the shared room is working out for her so well - it seems junior is causing a bit of sleep deprivation. I can sympathize - well, I did sort of, at 1:30 and 5 this morning.
This finally looks like being that much-vaunted short post I keep going on about.
#1 Husband
Tuesday 18 June 2013
As is possible in any cricket match involving India or Pakistan....
it's been a stitch-up. *
Progress. Finally. Sweet, sweet progress.
1) PICC line (long IV line that goes all the way up from the elbow, almost to the heart - lasts longer and less risk of infection) went in this morning. This will be used for TPN (total parenteral nutrition). This is not just a milkshake that they shove down the vein, rather is a very carefully manufactured and immensely expensive mix of nutrients in their most basic forms - amino acids, carbohydrates, fats. It is meant to imitate what gets absorbed into the blood after you've digested it.
She's had almost nothing to eat for 3 weeks and has lost weight at an unhealthy rate (in other words, at the rate any TV commercial or reality show would have you believe is normal). She's also as weak as a kitten that's spent the last 3 weeks in bed having had a feline total colectomy, so they need to bulk her up.
2) then they closed her up!
The PICC line was done in theatre - it didn't look like there'd be time to do the main procedure today, but she was whisked back down around 3pm. They took off the vacuum dressing (she accidentally saw it today in the mirror and freaked out), and decided it was ok to close up the wound. After only a brief stay in Recovery she was lucid enough to be texting by 7. Her anaesthetic must have been so mild that even Michael Jackson could have survived it. Rather than giving a hospital anaesthetic in his lounge, that doctor of his should have learned to say "piss off" (see my previous post).
No word on likely discharge date, but frankly I don't want her home too early. You should see her shuffling to the bathroom. She'll need to be eating properly first anyhow, and the TPN will be going for a few days I'd say.
She continues to love Tom for medicinal reasons.
In other news my dad stayed in hospital today having had the odd dizzy spell - looks like he'll be out tomorrow.
I see the weather around the country will be crud for the rest of the week. Not relevant to this blog subject, but what is??
#1 Husband
* http://www.espncricinfo.com/infocus/content/story/infocus.html?subject=44;page=2
http://www.espncricinfo.com/indian-premier-league-2013/content/story/636201.html
Progress. Finally. Sweet, sweet progress.
1) PICC line (long IV line that goes all the way up from the elbow, almost to the heart - lasts longer and less risk of infection) went in this morning. This will be used for TPN (total parenteral nutrition). This is not just a milkshake that they shove down the vein, rather is a very carefully manufactured and immensely expensive mix of nutrients in their most basic forms - amino acids, carbohydrates, fats. It is meant to imitate what gets absorbed into the blood after you've digested it.
She's had almost nothing to eat for 3 weeks and has lost weight at an unhealthy rate (in other words, at the rate any TV commercial or reality show would have you believe is normal). She's also as weak as a kitten that's spent the last 3 weeks in bed having had a feline total colectomy, so they need to bulk her up.
2) then they closed her up!
The PICC line was done in theatre - it didn't look like there'd be time to do the main procedure today, but she was whisked back down around 3pm. They took off the vacuum dressing (she accidentally saw it today in the mirror and freaked out), and decided it was ok to close up the wound. After only a brief stay in Recovery she was lucid enough to be texting by 7. Her anaesthetic must have been so mild that even Michael Jackson could have survived it. Rather than giving a hospital anaesthetic in his lounge, that doctor of his should have learned to say "piss off" (see my previous post).
No word on likely discharge date, but frankly I don't want her home too early. You should see her shuffling to the bathroom. She'll need to be eating properly first anyhow, and the TPN will be going for a few days I'd say.
She continues to love Tom for medicinal reasons.
In other news my dad stayed in hospital today having had the odd dizzy spell - looks like he'll be out tomorrow.
I see the weather around the country will be crud for the rest of the week. Not relevant to this blog subject, but what is??
#1 Husband
* http://www.espncricinfo.com/infocus/content/story/infocus.html?subject=44;page=2
http://www.espncricinfo.com/indian-premier-league-2013/content/story/636201.html
Monday 17 June 2013
much like a NZ batsman at any stage of their innings, or indeed the team at any stage of a tournament...
my dad is nearly out.
After only a couple of days in hospital and surgery this morning, I'm told that he might be discharged tomorrow. Imagine that - I didn't think you were allowed to leave hospital until you'd been in for at least a fortnight.
I don't envy my mum over the next few weeks.
Although oddly enough I don't envy me either. Who do I envy? I guess I envy any bowler who's playing against the NZ cricket team, because their career figures will look much better after the game.
Let me do exactly what I said I'd never do and tell you about a patient I had today.
She came in asking for my help (because that's what I do). She wanted a letter from me, that said that she had a medical condition that prevented her from continuing with her gym membership. Eh? I asked. Well, she took out a 12 month membership a couple of months ago, but at that time was planning to leave the country and cancel it when she left. But her plans changed and she's staying. She can't cancel the membership now, but can't afford to keep paying either. Of course she doesn't actually have a medical problem, but wanted me to say that she had - I didn't think that the stress of not having enough money to pay counted, given how freely she'd joined in the first place. So, in the most professional way possible, I declined to lie for her. I doubt I'll be treating her winter colds any time soon.
You will note that I have not given any identifiable information in the above story.
I have a list of blood results, for anyone who's interested (not from the lying patient, but from our real one). I'll just type it out and hope that the formatting holds when I save the post.
9/6 12/6 13/6 14/6 15/6 16/6
Hb 123 108 128 112 94 109
WBC 10.5 15.5 27.1 18.3 13.2 10.9
plts 799 581
CRP 21 76 320 303 140
Mg 0.72 0.77 0.66
alb 20 23
And for those of you lucky enough not to need to understand those numbers, I can assure you that the ones from 12 - 15th are rubbish.
Today she seems to have been ok - showering herself, walking a bit during the day. Even her bowels are starting to co-operate to some extent (very slight, but it's something). I suppose one issue is that I only turn up at the end of the day, when she's a bit wiped out. While I've been here she's had a bit of vomiting and so they had to aspirate the naso-gastric tube. She's nil by mouth for now.
Tomorrow they'll take her back in to re-do the vacuum dressing. She's asked me to bring some of the masses of DVD's we've been loaned.
Much like the NZ cricket team I'm done.
#1 Husband
This was meant to be a short one.
After only a couple of days in hospital and surgery this morning, I'm told that he might be discharged tomorrow. Imagine that - I didn't think you were allowed to leave hospital until you'd been in for at least a fortnight.
I don't envy my mum over the next few weeks.
Although oddly enough I don't envy me either. Who do I envy? I guess I envy any bowler who's playing against the NZ cricket team, because their career figures will look much better after the game.
Let me do exactly what I said I'd never do and tell you about a patient I had today.
She came in asking for my help (because that's what I do). She wanted a letter from me, that said that she had a medical condition that prevented her from continuing with her gym membership. Eh? I asked. Well, she took out a 12 month membership a couple of months ago, but at that time was planning to leave the country and cancel it when she left. But her plans changed and she's staying. She can't cancel the membership now, but can't afford to keep paying either. Of course she doesn't actually have a medical problem, but wanted me to say that she had - I didn't think that the stress of not having enough money to pay counted, given how freely she'd joined in the first place. So, in the most professional way possible, I declined to lie for her. I doubt I'll be treating her winter colds any time soon.
You will note that I have not given any identifiable information in the above story.
I have a list of blood results, for anyone who's interested (not from the lying patient, but from our real one). I'll just type it out and hope that the formatting holds when I save the post.
9/6 12/6 13/6 14/6 15/6 16/6
Hb 123 108 128 112 94 109
WBC 10.5 15.5 27.1 18.3 13.2 10.9
plts 799 581
CRP 21 76 320 303 140
Mg 0.72 0.77 0.66
alb 20 23
And for those of you lucky enough not to need to understand those numbers, I can assure you that the ones from 12 - 15th are rubbish.
Today she seems to have been ok - showering herself, walking a bit during the day. Even her bowels are starting to co-operate to some extent (very slight, but it's something). I suppose one issue is that I only turn up at the end of the day, when she's a bit wiped out. While I've been here she's had a bit of vomiting and so they had to aspirate the naso-gastric tube. She's nil by mouth for now.
Tomorrow they'll take her back in to re-do the vacuum dressing. She's asked me to bring some of the masses of DVD's we've been loaned.
Much like the NZ cricket team I'm done.
#1 Husband
This was meant to be a short one.
Sunday 16 June 2013
The record, held by NZ, for the lowest ever team score in test cricket will never be broken….
Unlike my father’s femur.
Yes, just when you thought there was chance that the
country’s health budget might record a surplus this year, my family comes along
and finds another way to spend our hard-earned health dollars. Why was he up a
ladder pruning trees today in the rain? Who knows. Do you think he regretted his decision even
before he hit the ground? Probably. What are they going to hold him together
with? An intramedullary rod.
Any chance now of my mum coming down to help out with our
favourite cancer survivor’s recovery as planned?
Not
A
Hope,
Marvin.
He called to tell me while waiting for the ambulance. When
he described where the break seemed to be I told him 1) don’t eat anything; 2)
tell the ambulance staff if you get short of breath STRAIGHT AWAY. A normal son
would’ve said something like “gee whiz dad, are you ok?”
I have no tether. Which is just as well, for I must
therefore have no end to it. I’m not complaining, though. That’s for tomorrow’s
blog. Ha ha.
My mum doesn’t drive, and they live in Auckland. So unless she’s
going to use Auckland’s weekly bus route my sister will have to be the taxi
service for a bit. Of course under normal circumstances I’d pop up to help out.
In several other ways today was actually quite nice. We gave
the kids a visit this morning that only ended a little badly.
Make-do-mum-in-law and I added to the glory that is now our bathroom with a
snap decision that was the culmination of months of dithering. Elder one spent
many wonderful hours with her friend (well, it was wonderful for us), during
which time they attended some sort of science demonstration based on fireworks.
In other more peripheral news, she’s had a rough day with
tummy pain (which she now realises is partly due to the vacuum dressing).
She’s just told me that the children are becoming a bit abstract to her –
lucky, lucky thing. Her eating still isn’t fantastic. But my IV line from
yesterday is still working fantastically. She accidently saw her wound today.
Three weeks tomorrow.
NZ play tonight but even I think I should get an early
night.
#1 Husband
I am the cabinet
Saturday 15 June 2013
like an English cricketer and an Aussie cricketer who meet in a bar....
we thought it best to separate them today.
I didn't quite get this until much later in the day, but the reason why kid the older was acting like a perfect terror and refusing to come downstairs was because horror child the younger had woken her up at 5am and she hadn't been able to get back to sleep.
I did manages to coerce her out of her room with the promise of a visit to mum (her first for an uncertain number of days), and she did perk up a bit. Relatively. Later she and nana went, at her request, to the observatory for some leisure science while I carried the other one around town on my back, looking for the perfect pair of canvas shoes on sale.
I am the shoe.
In other news she's had a bit of a down day. Bit tired and wiped out. I was here when her registarar came around this morning, and she confirmed that they'd be doing another dressing change in theatre on Mon or Tues, and she seemed doubtful that they'd be able to sew her up that early. She hunted down the preliminary results of the lymph node histology, and things seem ok so far.
In more positive news, she tells me that she's had a degree of control over her bowel motions today, but frankly who wants to read about that on the internet.
When I walked in she was watching TV on demand on her iphone. I reminded her that she does have a computer here, but she said it was too much work to get it out of the cupboard, what with all her tubes and such,. I've set it up for her now.
Unable to find today's bloods in her file (she has a big ringbinder), and I don't feel like logging on to find them. They've been going on about paperless labs, so maybe that's why there's no cumulative results sheet.
#1 Husband
I didn't quite get this until much later in the day, but the reason why kid the older was acting like a perfect terror and refusing to come downstairs was because horror child the younger had woken her up at 5am and she hadn't been able to get back to sleep.
I did manages to coerce her out of her room with the promise of a visit to mum (her first for an uncertain number of days), and she did perk up a bit. Relatively. Later she and nana went, at her request, to the observatory for some leisure science while I carried the other one around town on my back, looking for the perfect pair of canvas shoes on sale.
I am the shoe.
In other news she's had a bit of a down day. Bit tired and wiped out. I was here when her registarar came around this morning, and she confirmed that they'd be doing another dressing change in theatre on Mon or Tues, and she seemed doubtful that they'd be able to sew her up that early. She hunted down the preliminary results of the lymph node histology, and things seem ok so far.
In more positive news, she tells me that she's had a degree of control over her bowel motions today, but frankly who wants to read about that on the internet.
When I walked in she was watching TV on demand on her iphone. I reminded her that she does have a computer here, but she said it was too much work to get it out of the cupboard, what with all her tubes and such,. I've set it up for her now.
Unable to find today's bloods in her file (she has a big ringbinder), and I don't feel like logging on to find them. They've been going on about paperless labs, so maybe that's why there's no cumulative results sheet.
#1 Husband
Friday 14 June 2013
much like the NZ cricket team from about 2003 onwards....
her progress has been a bit disappointing.
But there's a slim chance that things have taken a step forwards.
Today she had surgery #3 since her arrival a mere 18 days ago, when they did indeed take her to theatre to change the vacuum dressing. I got a call from the Registrar afterwards, telling me that they'd debrided some necrotic tissue from around the wound (ie - they cut out the dead stuff) and they were hopeful that this was the cause of her slow progress over the last few days.
For those of you who care, today her bloods were; Hb 112; WBC 18.3, Neutr 15.5, CRP 320
There doesn't seem to be a running list, so I don't know her recent results, but I think you'll agree that she's not left many CRP's for the other patients to share.
(for all you Normal People out there, that stands for c-reactive protein, and is a blood marker that tells you that there is some sort of inflammation in the body but not where it's coming from., So it'll be raised after any operation, or with an infection, or if you burned your hand. It should be less than 7. In GP land we get excited if it's much more than 20. Someone with an appendicitis might be 100-200. So you get the picture. Now that the dead tissue is hopefully out of her, it will be interesting to watch the trend over the next few days).
In fact, tonight she's seems more lucid and happy than she's been pretty much since she had to come back from ward leave on Sat. She remarked that after her previous general anaesthetics it took a couple of days for her head to come right. However she's still knocking back the PCA* and was telling the nurses that her pain wasn't too bad right now because it's only 4/10 intensity. The fan remains on, and her new favourite health consumables are the little sponges on a stick that look like lollipops and which she can soak and use to relieve the dryness in her mouth.
She has forbidden me to take a picture of the wound and vacuum dressing, which means that it's pending. But just in case, I can at least tell you that since the adhesive is clear, the fast that you can see some of the subcutaneous tissue (ie - the layer of tissue under the skin) makes it look like vacuum-packed meat at the supermarket. You don't see any flesh, but there's the soft orange colour of the fat layer that's under our skin.
Mother-in-law has scored another week of sick leave.
She's looking at me like she knows I'm typing something dodgy. There goes the soft chime of the PCA machine as Tom gets another gentle caress, and I can hear the whir of the pump - sounding like a distant Tardis - as she gets another hit of that sweet, sweet fentanyl/ketamine mix.
#1 Husband
* the button's name is indeed Tom. "Ted" is the name she "accidentally" uses from time to time when she's high in bed. Don't read that last bit if you're related to her.
But there's a slim chance that things have taken a step forwards.
Today she had surgery #3 since her arrival a mere 18 days ago, when they did indeed take her to theatre to change the vacuum dressing. I got a call from the Registrar afterwards, telling me that they'd debrided some necrotic tissue from around the wound (ie - they cut out the dead stuff) and they were hopeful that this was the cause of her slow progress over the last few days.
For those of you who care, today her bloods were; Hb 112; WBC 18.3, Neutr 15.5, CRP 320
There doesn't seem to be a running list, so I don't know her recent results, but I think you'll agree that she's not left many CRP's for the other patients to share.
(for all you Normal People out there, that stands for c-reactive protein, and is a blood marker that tells you that there is some sort of inflammation in the body but not where it's coming from., So it'll be raised after any operation, or with an infection, or if you burned your hand. It should be less than 7. In GP land we get excited if it's much more than 20. Someone with an appendicitis might be 100-200. So you get the picture. Now that the dead tissue is hopefully out of her, it will be interesting to watch the trend over the next few days).
In fact, tonight she's seems more lucid and happy than she's been pretty much since she had to come back from ward leave on Sat. She remarked that after her previous general anaesthetics it took a couple of days for her head to come right. However she's still knocking back the PCA* and was telling the nurses that her pain wasn't too bad right now because it's only 4/10 intensity. The fan remains on, and her new favourite health consumables are the little sponges on a stick that look like lollipops and which she can soak and use to relieve the dryness in her mouth.
She has forbidden me to take a picture of the wound and vacuum dressing, which means that it's pending. But just in case, I can at least tell you that since the adhesive is clear, the fast that you can see some of the subcutaneous tissue (ie - the layer of tissue under the skin) makes it look like vacuum-packed meat at the supermarket. You don't see any flesh, but there's the soft orange colour of the fat layer that's under our skin.
Mother-in-law has scored another week of sick leave.
She's looking at me like she knows I'm typing something dodgy. There goes the soft chime of the PCA machine as Tom gets another gentle caress, and I can hear the whir of the pump - sounding like a distant Tardis - as she gets another hit of that sweet, sweet fentanyl/ketamine mix.
#1 Husband
* the button's name is indeed Tom. "Ted" is the name she "accidentally" uses from time to time when she's high in bed. Don't read that last bit if you're related to her.
Thursday 13 June 2013
much like an Australian opening batsman....
she's putting up a fight but is in quite a slump (and has a weakness outside the off stump)*
I'm sitting in her toilet (which she's not using, for a variety of reasons), trying not to let my keys fall in. It's so I don't disturb her, but she's sleeping the sleep that only a fentanyl/ketamine PCA can give you, looking like Sleeping Beauty - if Sleeping Beauty had a naso-gastric tube coming out of her nose.
Oh yes - they replaced the NG tube and got 1100ml out. Hence her nausea yesterday. I popped in to see her after I dropped the little one at daycare, and conversation then was "languid". Her bowels are stirring, and I'll say nothing more on that.
I'm told that she's on the acute theatre list tomorrow, but only to replace the abdominal vacuum dressing. I thought it was a bit early to be sewing her back up - she's still on IV cefuroxime/metronidazole.
I have to move - blogging on the toilet is giving me a dead leg. The left one. Leg, that is, not the left toilet. There's only one toilet in this room. What do you think this is, the new Auckland Casino Conference centre that the PM sold out the most vulnerable for??
Ok I moved now.
But I disturbed her. She tells me that they'll have a look at things tomorrow and if things look fantastic they might sew her up then. I'd heard it might be under sedation, but the word is general anaesthetic (third one in 20 days - now that's her tax dollars at work. By which I mean it's my tax dollars at work) .
Older one was feeling under the weather and so had a home day - it's possible it was emotional > physical, but we'll give her that one. Someone else at my work (it's why I have tax dollars) gave us a meal for laters, which is nice.
Nana's travel plans (or lack of them) are starting to cause concern - she should have been away 4 days ago, and there's not really an end in sight.
So everything's ship-shape around here.
#1 Husband
* http://www.espncricinfo.com/icc-champions-trophy-2013/content/story/641109.html
I'm sitting in her toilet (which she's not using, for a variety of reasons), trying not to let my keys fall in. It's so I don't disturb her, but she's sleeping the sleep that only a fentanyl/ketamine PCA can give you, looking like Sleeping Beauty - if Sleeping Beauty had a naso-gastric tube coming out of her nose.
Oh yes - they replaced the NG tube and got 1100ml out. Hence her nausea yesterday. I popped in to see her after I dropped the little one at daycare, and conversation then was "languid". Her bowels are stirring, and I'll say nothing more on that.
I'm told that she's on the acute theatre list tomorrow, but only to replace the abdominal vacuum dressing. I thought it was a bit early to be sewing her back up - she's still on IV cefuroxime/metronidazole.
I have to move - blogging on the toilet is giving me a dead leg. The left one. Leg, that is, not the left toilet. There's only one toilet in this room. What do you think this is, the new Auckland Casino Conference centre that the PM sold out the most vulnerable for??
Ok I moved now.
But I disturbed her. She tells me that they'll have a look at things tomorrow and if things look fantastic they might sew her up then. I'd heard it might be under sedation, but the word is general anaesthetic (third one in 20 days - now that's her tax dollars at work. By which I mean it's my tax dollars at work) .
Older one was feeling under the weather and so had a home day - it's possible it was emotional > physical, but we'll give her that one. Someone else at my work (it's why I have tax dollars) gave us a meal for laters, which is nice.
Nana's travel plans (or lack of them) are starting to cause concern - she should have been away 4 days ago, and there's not really an end in sight.
So everything's ship-shape around here.
#1 Husband
* http://www.espncricinfo.com/icc-champions-trophy-2013/content/story/641109.html
Wednesday 12 June 2013
much like the NZ cricket tourists of '94-95...
she's as high as a kite just now*
She and her best mate, Tom the PCA (morphine pump) button, are having a nap. Others have told me that the two of them have been quite inseparable.She sent me a text saying that she'd been sitting up, but I think she was just chasing the dragon.
This morning I decided to look at the dressing, and I've gotta say - that was a mistake. First time my medical poker face has fallen for a while. To be fair though, if you saw it I think you'd agree that at first glance the black gauze that's packing the wound looks a little like necrotic (dead) tissue.
I went for my first jog since before her op today. Pleasant if a little slow.
It's a bit late, and given how little she's done today I might leave it at that. Make-do-mum-in-law and I spray-painted the exposed edges of the vanity cabinet. I hope the kitchen door stayed open, or there'll be more than one druggie in the family.
The tap is a Grohe.
#1 Husband
* http://www.espncricinfo.com/wisdenalmanack/content/story/153261.html
esp start of 2nd paragraph
She and her best mate, Tom the PCA (morphine pump) button, are having a nap. Others have told me that the two of them have been quite inseparable.She sent me a text saying that she'd been sitting up, but I think she was just chasing the dragon.
This morning I decided to look at the dressing, and I've gotta say - that was a mistake. First time my medical poker face has fallen for a while. To be fair though, if you saw it I think you'd agree that at first glance the black gauze that's packing the wound looks a little like necrotic (dead) tissue.
I went for my first jog since before her op today. Pleasant if a little slow.
It's a bit late, and given how little she's done today I might leave it at that. Make-do-mum-in-law and I spray-painted the exposed edges of the vanity cabinet. I hope the kitchen door stayed open, or there'll be more than one druggie in the family.
The tap is a Grohe.
#1 Husband
* http://www.espncricinfo.com/wisdenalmanack/content/story/153261.html
esp start of 2nd paragraph
Tuesday 11 June 2013
Reunited
Ted and I are back together again. Patient controlled analgesia is the best. I'm also sitting, which is my mandatory exercise for the day.
much like the NZ one-day team up the middle of any tournament...
she's still alive, but only by net run rate.
What we thought was the long-awaited day finally arrived, when I got a text at 8:30am - "off to theatre now!". They had decided last week that the stoma wasn't going to cut it, and after the false start that was all of yesterday, it was her turn.
I've clearly not been trained as a Surgeon. First of all, the milk of human kindness has yet to be beaten from my weary soul. Secondly, I tend not to rush to IV Augmentin to treat a bit of a fever. Thirdly, I don't have a clue about the complexity of surgery. I was telling make-do-mum-in-law that this would be a quick sub-one hour nip and sew, that she'd be in recovery for a couple of hours and it'd be kippers and scones for afternoon tea. When I got the thumbs-up call from the surgeon to let me know that he was done, it was close to 12:30, which suggests an op time of 3 hours +. He then went on to tell me how tricky the procedure had been, but that they'd always known that this would be a hard operation. Furthermore, given how much stress the tissue around the stoma had been subjected to, they were worried about infection so they haven't actually sewn her up just yet - they'll leave it open but dressed, and assess in a few days and hopefully finally patch her up then. I'd be perfectly happy to do it myself at home under local anaesthetic - yet another blurring of the boundaries she tells me they used my IV line to induce her anaesthetic).
But despite all of that, at the very least the stoma is gone. I'd lost count of the number of times it had leaked, and even if she knew she'd never tell me. Apparently the skin surrounding it is quite unhappy, and that must be one reason to leave things alone for a bit.
I'm sure her dynamic power zap sports energy drink is simply Raro in a silver package.
Trust the NZ team to take a run-chase that should have lasted 25 overs and turn it into the director's cut of "the Great Escape".
Tonight was much fun. Oldest one chose not to brush her teeth. I "compromised" by making her brush her teeth anyway.
She had her colonoscopy exactly 2 months ago. It was a Tuesday - I'd taken the day off work because she was going to be sedated and therefore more stoned than usual. I'd have preferred to have spent the last two months practicing guitar or teaching the kids how to ride a bike, but there you go.
She sleeps.
#1 Husband
What we thought was the long-awaited day finally arrived, when I got a text at 8:30am - "off to theatre now!". They had decided last week that the stoma wasn't going to cut it, and after the false start that was all of yesterday, it was her turn.
I've clearly not been trained as a Surgeon. First of all, the milk of human kindness has yet to be beaten from my weary soul. Secondly, I tend not to rush to IV Augmentin to treat a bit of a fever. Thirdly, I don't have a clue about the complexity of surgery. I was telling make-do-mum-in-law that this would be a quick sub-one hour nip and sew, that she'd be in recovery for a couple of hours and it'd be kippers and scones for afternoon tea. When I got the thumbs-up call from the surgeon to let me know that he was done, it was close to 12:30, which suggests an op time of 3 hours +. He then went on to tell me how tricky the procedure had been, but that they'd always known that this would be a hard operation. Furthermore, given how much stress the tissue around the stoma had been subjected to, they were worried about infection so they haven't actually sewn her up just yet - they'll leave it open but dressed, and assess in a few days and hopefully finally patch her up then. I'd be perfectly happy to do it myself at home under local anaesthetic - yet another blurring of the boundaries she tells me they used my IV line to induce her anaesthetic).
But despite all of that, at the very least the stoma is gone. I'd lost count of the number of times it had leaked, and even if she knew she'd never tell me. Apparently the skin surrounding it is quite unhappy, and that must be one reason to leave things alone for a bit.
I'm sure her dynamic power zap sports energy drink is simply Raro in a silver package.
Trust the NZ team to take a run-chase that should have lasted 25 overs and turn it into the director's cut of "the Great Escape".
Tonight was much fun. Oldest one chose not to brush her teeth. I "compromised" by making her brush her teeth anyway.
She had her colonoscopy exactly 2 months ago. It was a Tuesday - I'd taken the day off work because she was going to be sedated and therefore more stoned than usual. I'd have preferred to have spent the last two months practicing guitar or teaching the kids how to ride a bike, but there you go.
She sleeps.
#1 Husband
Monday 10 June 2013
Waiting, waiting
I feel a little bit like a fraud staying here in the hospital at the moment. I feel well enough to be at home, it is just that the stoma is so problematic. Even the stoma nurse has not been able to control the leaking - the stoma is shrinking as it heals and is too small. One of the nurses has hit on a solution to the leaking - excessively bandaging the area and using heaps of water proof tape. It lasted very well for twelve hours, but unfortunately it is at a cost - my skin is starting to breakdown. All of this will be fine as soon as I can have the reversal surgery- hopefully tomorrow.
A big post-surgery change is diet and fluid related. Food wise, I have to eat low-protein, high salt food. This is a little trickier than you might think. White bread, mashed potato and cheesy salty crackers are my new friends. I also need to take electrolyte replacement - the equivalent of two or three sports drinks a day (sports drinks don't actually have that much salt in them, they aren't as good as the advertising has you believe). My Mum found some good stuff at the supermarket. I do need to drink round the clock though. I no longer feel thirst - I go from fine to genuinely dehydrated in a snap. It can be hard to talk because my mouth is so dry. Because I don't feel like eating much at the moment/ can't take that great a volume getting all the fluid down is challenging. Bleurgh. I think that the water/ salt requirements will remain, but over time I should be able to introduce more foods.
Being nil by mouth today was therefore not fun. I don't care about the food but not being able to drink is quite hard for me at the moment. I asked for some IV fluids but my veins have become rather sick of IVs and the hand quite literally spat out the cannula. I got an awesome swollen lump of fluid on my hand as it went. The house surgeons continue having difficulty cannulating my arm. They have asked me to get the anaesthetists during surgery to add an extra line just in case!
I was told that I could eat around 3.30 which turned out to be a mistake. At 7.30pm the nurse came and told me that the surgeon had just finished his elective list and couldn't fit me in. I wonder how impressed he would have been to call me to theatre to learn that I was eating?
Anyway, fingers crossed surgery tomorrow. While I'm waiting I'm watching heaps of episodes of Homeland. It just got very good!
Thank you all again for your emails, visits, Facebook messages, practical help and good wishes. They all help to keep our family functioning at the moment.
A big post-surgery change is diet and fluid related. Food wise, I have to eat low-protein, high salt food. This is a little trickier than you might think. White bread, mashed potato and cheesy salty crackers are my new friends. I also need to take electrolyte replacement - the equivalent of two or three sports drinks a day (sports drinks don't actually have that much salt in them, they aren't as good as the advertising has you believe). My Mum found some good stuff at the supermarket. I do need to drink round the clock though. I no longer feel thirst - I go from fine to genuinely dehydrated in a snap. It can be hard to talk because my mouth is so dry. Because I don't feel like eating much at the moment/ can't take that great a volume getting all the fluid down is challenging. Bleurgh. I think that the water/ salt requirements will remain, but over time I should be able to introduce more foods.
Being nil by mouth today was therefore not fun. I don't care about the food but not being able to drink is quite hard for me at the moment. I asked for some IV fluids but my veins have become rather sick of IVs and the hand quite literally spat out the cannula. I got an awesome swollen lump of fluid on my hand as it went. The house surgeons continue having difficulty cannulating my arm. They have asked me to get the anaesthetists during surgery to add an extra line just in case!
I was told that I could eat around 3.30 which turned out to be a mistake. At 7.30pm the nurse came and told me that the surgeon had just finished his elective list and couldn't fit me in. I wonder how impressed he would have been to call me to theatre to learn that I was eating?
Anyway, fingers crossed surgery tomorrow. While I'm waiting I'm watching heaps of episodes of Homeland. It just got very good!
Thank you all again for your emails, visits, Facebook messages, practical help and good wishes. They all help to keep our family functioning at the moment.
Saturday 8 June 2013
Leave recalled
I tried to go on leave but it didn't work out. First, I had to promise to come back each day for anti-clot injections. Next, I had to come back for a stoma bag change.
Yesterday morning I realised that the stoma bag was leaking. Down to the hospital. Back home for lunch and a three hour nap. Down to the hospital for clexane injection. Back home and I realise the bag is leaking. Back again. Bag change. Home again. Finally, at 11pm I realise the bag is leaking and there is a lot of blood. Back again.
I've also had some wound seepage so have felt quite disheartened at the mess my stomach is.
The stoma was always a horridly awkward thing and the surgeons are very determined to do the reversal surgery tomorrow.
In the meantime I have a private room with shower and toilet so feel quite swanky! I'm very much looking forward to this being over.
Thursday 6 June 2013
Going home!
Got the wrong date - Colorectal cancer meeting is next week so my results will be discussed then. All results, both positive and negative go through the meeting.
I had my fluroscopy and everything is well healed. I've been granted leave from the ward so can go home this afternoon, returning Monday or Tuesday. Yay!
An actual update
After the last post I've had a few enquiries as to #1 husband's mental health. He is fine! His creative juices seem to really flow in the blog format.
Beautiful flowers from West Australia family. The arrangement has been much remarked on due to the smell and mix of luxury flowers. Yesterday I took it over to my sick neighbour so she could have a close inspection and a smell of beautiful air.
I have the best visitors. Even if I did have to take morphine after this exuberant visit.
The night blogger. He comes when I'm nearly asleep and taps away, chuckling to himself.
#1 Husband putting a line in my arm. All my veins gave up and despite a number of tries, no one could put one in. #1 Husband is actually super good at doing lines so made a house call. Given the alternative was a PIC line inserted by anaesthetists I'm glad he did it! He is held in awe by the house surgeons and students in the surgical team.
I have a procedure today to see if everything joined well on the inside. If it is OK then I'll have surgery to reconnect everything on Monday or Tuesday and should get weekend leave! Home!
If not joined well on the inside then I'm not sure what will happen. The stoma made is really tricky - not one that I could actually manage to change myself. I guess I'll know more later.
Today is Friday and so oncology MDM day. We should learn after today what the story was with my lymph nodes.
I'm the tap.
I'm not a real tap, of course. That would be inSANE.
Rather, I am the personification of that perfect tap that he has been seeking for these last few days and weeks.
I am like a filling.
I am an amalgam:
I am traditional and I am modern. I am a mixer. I am either mains or mixed pressure, but not both. I'm more square than those found on most bathroom vanities, but not so square that you could caress me with your cheek in the hope of the perfect morning shave. But if you want to caress me, I wont' say no.
No, no, no....
Turn me left and I am hot, turn me right and I am cold. Turn me on and I am yours.
I know there is a basin waiting for me. He knows the basin is waiting for me. I am out there, somewhere - when will he find me?? Will my base be square or round? Of what base metal shall I be made? The best of us all, the most base of us all - they are indistinguishable through the dull lens of time. And that she be our legacy.
Sing my song.
A lost soul shall hide my tears
A founding thought of looming fears
Unreachable, but take me now
Alone and all alone
Hey time
Hey days
Hey undefined displays
Refined away,
Away.
I am the tap.
Rather, I am the personification of that perfect tap that he has been seeking for these last few days and weeks.
I am like a filling.
I am an amalgam:
I am traditional and I am modern. I am a mixer. I am either mains or mixed pressure, but not both. I'm more square than those found on most bathroom vanities, but not so square that you could caress me with your cheek in the hope of the perfect morning shave. But if you want to caress me, I wont' say no.
No, no, no....
Turn me left and I am hot, turn me right and I am cold. Turn me on and I am yours.
I know there is a basin waiting for me. He knows the basin is waiting for me. I am out there, somewhere - when will he find me?? Will my base be square or round? Of what base metal shall I be made? The best of us all, the most base of us all - they are indistinguishable through the dull lens of time. And that she be our legacy.
Sing my song.
A lost soul shall hide my tears
A founding thought of looming fears
Unreachable, but take me now
Alone and all alone
Hey time
Hey days
Hey undefined displays
Refined away,
Away.
I am the tap.
Wednesday 5 June 2013
The third neighbour.
I barely noticed my neighbour the first night, just deduced her presence from the sighs and snores. The next day it was her occasional off colour remarks and scores of visitors that broke through my near consciousness. The racist comments about the staff got to me, as well as her inclinication to give out my medical history to her visitors when she thought I was asleep. In desperation I asked the nurse for a pen and scribbled a note, asking the shift coordinator to consider a room change. The next day was my severe pain day and as luck would have it, the woman was discharged.
As a reward for bad pain day I then got moved over to the window spot. Shortly after my new roommate arrived.
-------------
I should note at this point that the room next to mine is very cheerful. There were two guys in there, who would listen to the rugby on their respective TVs and chat animatedly. I wanted to have a cool room.
--------
The second neighbour arrived with her husband and settled in to her spot. She was not pleased to be here. Her husband was not pleased that she was here. Together, they were not pleased. At first I thought it was charming bickering but it was not. This was not the private hospital she had signed up for, and therefore the room, bed, nurses, TV, food and service were all wrong. She was scathing.
In my head she looked like Margarrt Thatcher. Her voice was coldly imperious in her pleasant exchanges and harsh in her angry ones. I kept to myself, maintained a low profile and hoped like heck one of us would leave soon. On her last night my drip alarm woke her: "just get it" she snapped. Startled, I reached to silence the alarm and she directed "just get the phone X." She thought she was at home. At that point I got a little sad for her - she was quite disoriented, afraid and feeling lonely.
Neither of us were particularly sad when she departed to become a floater patient on another ward.
I had the room to myself for eight, hedonistic hours.
----
My third neighbour introduced herself to me once she was conscious, around 4:30am. We've had raucous chats, enjoyed 'sunbathing' in our deck chairs during the mandatory post breakfast chair time, swapped dry mouth horror stories and talked about our gardens. I've been formally introduced to her very kind and caring husband and I suspect tomorrow, when she is capable of staying awake longer than ten minutes, we will enjoy some more chats.
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