So, this is the first picture I posed for after Surgery; no kidding, I actually asked that this one be taken; I was about 36 hours out and the bandages had long fallen off. My young son captured this lovely shot, nice ah! You can see by the Pirate patch, argh, they'd already started taking precautions to protect my eye.
I spent three more weeks in Hospital, most of that in rehab learning how to walk again and to eat without choking; much harder than you think when you can't manage ice chips without gagging on them like an infant on a fast running bottle. My first full week in the hospital was split between the ICU and one, maybe two other floors while I waited for a bed to open up in rehab.
That first week after surgery was a very dark time for me, mentally and physically. I felt like I was being bounced from one shift change to the next, not making any real progress, in terrible pain nearly all the time and wanting of the attention I thought I deserved. It took the nurse half the shift to get around to reading my chart and understanding my situation and what it took to keep me comfortable. By than I was usually so miserable, the medication did little to help.
I slept mostly during the day and laid uncomfortably awake all night. When I was lucky enough to sleep at night, the dreams were so strange, they'd wake me, disoriented and confused. Did any of you have the "Good Meal Company" dream, because I certainly did. The Good Meal Company only served one meal, T-Bone Steak Medium-Well, Baked Potato Loaded and Cream Corn in a small bowl on the side. I love cream corn but I was freaked out by the dream. In hindsight, I'm almost certain the feeding tube I was subjected to for 10 days after surgery explains the recurring Good Meal Company dream. Correct me on that if you think otherwise, I'm open to constructive opinion sharing. Funny thing, I always woke up feeling very full!
By the time they let me go home, I was marginally able to swallow (mechanical soft diet) and was still very much dependent on a walker with someone holding my belt tightly just in case I stumbled.
Funny story. The day before I went home, one of the OT’s left me alone standing in front of a sink washing my hands and down I went. The walker crashed to the floor first, making a very loud noise when it hit the tile floor, I landed a split second later on my right side and shoulder. The whole deal scared the bejesus out of the poor young OT. Probably ten people came running when she yelled for help, that loud noise scared the bejesus out of me.
For whatever reason, they chose to pick up the walker first, which by than was several feet from me! When I noticed that I asked for "a little help please" and there was still hesitation by the growing crowd to get me off the floor and back on my feet or in a nearby wheelchair. I thought that strange. It was as if no one wanted to chance doing anything to hurt me or make waves with the administration by getting “involved†in a patient falling incident. The young OT was immediately handed a form to fill out while I was still in the room getting a thorough once over by the charge nurse. I checked out fine! I saw the OT later that day and apologized for falling down and scaring her. We had a good laugh together although I couldn’t smile! I was her first faller in her five years, sorry pal your streak is over!
I know, I'm rambling here. Please bare with me, in a weirdly funny way I'm enjoying this creative break from my new reality.
My older son just came in my room to check on me. "You ok, Mom said you've been moving real slow all day?" Funny thing, Mom didn't inquire with me about my health today. You see, that's exactly why I'm angry! People, I think, really don't know how to ask us how we might be, or perhaps like in the hospital, get involved and lend a sincere helping hand! Sometimes I think maybe I’m expecting too much? I get so angry sometime, most of the time.
Sadly, I find myself most angry with my wife. She’s known me for 26 years, I expected her to react differently than she has. I know, she has been affected by this too and is working through her emotions. I realize that but I’m not done being angry yet. This is really taking a toll.
Ok, I’ve officially lost track of what my original intention was when I started writing this post. Lets just call this the first of several brain dumps to come about my AN post-op experience. Thanks for reading!
Doc
“Started writing this last night and feel asleep with my Macbook Pro on my chest still running.â€
