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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

Eating in the hospital

Eating in the hospital, a photo essay. Must run, don't want my broth and pills to get cold!

   

               

much like a NZ test innings....

... this will be brief, directionless, and will leave you feeling unfulfilled*


Today has been quite good, even though I didn't have time to look at more taps. They've finally taken out the naso-gastric tube and she's coping ok. Her intake is improving, although we're getting conflicting advice about her permitted diet. The info from the dietician suggests a period of quite strict restrictions (low fat, low fibre, limited range of vegetables), whereas the surgical team seem quite relaxed about her eating anything she wants. We're erring on the side of caution but it would be nice if we didn't have to spend a month feeding her nothing but rice, potatoes, skinless chicken, and soft carrots.

She managed a couple of visitors and even tolerated the children for a while. I was only working a half day and so was able to pick the fuzzy-haired one from school (in a few weeks this will be my new normal). I brought her to mummy and left her here while I went to get the noisy one from daycare. I'm told that while I was away she took great delight in caring for mum (pushing the IV pole as she went to the toilet etc). The presence of both kids has taken it out of her, especially physically. There may have been a bit too much leaning on mummy's tummy and making her shuffle around. Having said that, I just watched her walk to the toilet and she didn't need to lean on the wall and had minimal swaying.

At the late ward round they gave a tentative time-line: on Fri she'll have the fluoroscopy that will tell them if there are any leaks from the anastamosis (the join bit). If that's healing well enough, they would look to do the stoma reversal early next week to free her of the bag. This would give her her theoretical final plumbing layout, but would also be the start of the hard bit as her digestive system finally has to cope without the colon.

I read on the BBC website that only 3% of Indians pay income tax. Weird, huh?

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-22772391

The massive stack of books that she brought remains untouched. She doesn't think she'd even have the energy to watch TV, so it's just as well we're not spending $8 a day on TV access cards. We're using her cellphone as a modem for the computer, but if she didn't feel like paying or having security she could hook into the signal from the motels across the road. For almost the whole day she

* I told you so

#1 husband

it only hurts when she laughs...

so I haven't been talking much about the cricket.

I think my blog posts are more interesting than her blog posts. Her ones have fewer than half the cricket puns, and don't quite convey my own magnificence.

Since we're talking about me, I can tell you that I went back to work today. Funny thing though - I called up this morning to offer my services for part of the day, only to be told that I was down for a full day already, was almost fully booked, and in fact had someone waiting. I won't tell you how many minutes after my official 9am start time I was calling - suffice it to say it was 1.

I did make it in the end and to be honest I felt a bit like a stunned mullet (but I'm sure I was giving the right answers). Learning that I had been right about a woman in whom I had suspected ovarian cancer was oddly unfulfilling. I'm just going to do half days for the rest of the week. One of my colleagues ordered me to go for a run tomorrow. Others have given us frozen meals. This is nice.

I entered the larger child in the kids' Miracle Mile for the upcoming marathon. Mum made me order her the t-shirt. I'm looking forward to taking her in to pick up her race pack - I always find it a very validating experience. It's still tricky to find a good time to take her running, so a few half days will be useful.

Junior had a good day with the nanny and at toddler gym. Nana had a good day away from Junior.

I almost know what tap I want to get for the basin, only I don't want to pay $400 for it.

I think I must increase her metabolic rate. Having been free of temperatures since midnight last night, I've turned up this evening and pushed it up again. It's only 37.5, but for most of the last two or three days it's been a touch over 38. She's doubled her range of foods she can eat - she's now up to red AND green jelly. She was very pleased to have walked around the corner to the neighbouring part of the ward today (she got a photo), and when she feels like showing off she'll walk - unassisted* - to the bathroom. Less pleasing was how the nurses ignored her warning of her dangerously full stoma bag. She did tell them so.

This is now day 8 post-op and if I told you she looked well, my pants would combust. What worries me most though is how little TV I've watched recently. I haven't even seen the final of Dr Who yet.

#1 Husband

* she still need to lean on the IV pole. Less interesting than other poles she could be swaying net to. Don't read that last sentence if you're related to her.

My favourite things.

Tom, my patient controlled anaesthesia unit ( we slept together).

#1 husband, I always forget how beautifully he writes. #1 of ? Is a thought that comes to mind....!

Our family, friends and well wishers. My brave Mum who looked after me yesterday and woke me for the good stuff (Look Ems it is a dog) (SPCA visits here), the rest of the family sending support via emails, phone calls and visits, our friends, led by the indomitable Ceri (we are trying to suss out a suitable thank you gift but got stuck at statue in honour/ island) and everyone who supports the carers so that they can help us. Loving funny/ snarky texts and pictures. 

Thanks guys. Xxxx Emma 

Update

I have a common post surgical lung infection that I can't spell. The solution is deep breathes and antibiotics. I have another infection whose origin is unknown which gives me fevers. The last few days are a bit hazy because of been hallucinating with tiredness (true) and the fevers leave you feeling crap. It is hard to believe that it has been a week since I walked into this place.

I had a CT scan today and it showed a frozen bowel. Now that I can sit up and move, this should help. Once unfrozen I can process food and go home.

all these false hopes and setbacks....

1) suggest there's some sort of one-day tournament around the corner


I think that Martin Guptil is not so much red-green colourblind as red-red colourblind. You put him in a test team and you wonder why they chose him in the batting line-up instead of, say, a constipated anorexic heroin addict, such is his inability to produce runs. But replace the red ball with a white one, and voila - he's Martin "Lara-Tendulkar-Bevan-Sewag" Guptil. I suppose we should just be grateful that there's someone in the team can still occasionally impress us.

Hmm? Oh yeah - the other thing.

Well it's been a couple of days since I last updated. She thought she felt better so asked for the laptop to watch DVDs on. It meant that when I tried to log on to this blog either on my pad or the work computers here at the hosp I was asked for the security thing which needed access to her cellphone. Also I figured that if she was well enough to watch DVDs*, she'd be ok to write a four-line update herself and let me get on with my busy long weekend.

* she wasn't.

Much has happened and for irrelevant reasons I haven't slept as much as I might have recently, so the my time lines are fuzzy. But I'll have a go.

At some stage the naso-gastric tube came out then went back in again. The current one went in smoothly and is sitting more comfortably than the last one. I've always spoken of bilious or bile-stained vomit, but to be honest I never knew how stunningly green bile was until today. It reminds me of how they draw gloopy radioactive waste on "The Simpsons". She's effectively nil by mouth, but can have sips. She was allowed to have an ice block and the nurses very kindly soursed her a Kapiti Ice Cream bar, but she couldn't have it because a) she can't currently have dairy, and b) it was passionfruit and she's not allowed seeds. So I've been asked to remember, for laters.

The rectal tube was the source of much unhappiness (which surprised me - I don't know about you, but I've always associated rectal tubes with nothing but joy and happiness in both professional and social settings). When they decided they wanted it out (fevers, so all tubes out), they had trouble removing it. The Reg simply came by and yanked it out. Someone was not impressed.

Unfortunately after everything came out she continued to spike temperatures and was sore. They found something in the urine and started antibiotics, but the word on the street is that the Infectious Diseases consultant was not convinced this was the cause of her problems. And I suppose he's been proven right by the lack of response (for those of your who care, the antibiotic they chose to try first was.... Augmentin).

Last night she developed a new upper right abdo pain, worse with inspiration (no cough and no-one mentioned her oxygen saturations so let's say it ain't a clot on the lungs). They've bitten the bullet and she's just come back from CT scanning, looking for any leaks/pus. They had the wrong sized IV line so once again I fulfilled my deepest fantasy and got to stick it to her (some people find her veins tricky and I felt sorry for the House Surgeon on-call on a Public holiday. Also overnight they needed three goes to get her current small one in). I've actually been most helpful this morning, above and beyond my usual helpful comments and friendly criticisms).

And so here we are now. I need to be off - nana is just about to lose the kids (but only figuratively, unfortunately). Yesterday was hard, and to de-escalate things I had to take the little one out in the car to provide everyone with breathing space. They're still mostly fine, but as you can imagine things are delicate.

Ok - finally caught up. The net one will be sooner and shorter.

#1 Husband

ps - again, for those who care, her CRP is 170 (up from 150) and her white cells are around 11.

pps - of course we're going to lose the net match by 80 runs or 6 wickets