So, back to
my day room… dum de dum… had some pretty overcooked bacon and leek pasta for
tea. It was homemade though so that’s 1 plus point for the goo. And then my bed
was ready! But on the move I missed pudding...
Filled in
the obligatory forms, got weighed and had bloods taken. All the ladies on the
ward came round in turns to say hello (have a nosy at me, see how ill I really
am) and have a chat which was sweet. Of course I am the youngest by far as
always! Lady in the end is screeching and crying that she wants to go home. Vic
jokes, am I sure I’m not next to a mirror. Little does she know that, that is
exactly how shit normally goes down when I’m in hospital.
I had a
wander out through the front door to have a quick belly catch up and then came
back in and got my PJ’s on, had a wash and made myself at home. I spent too
long in the bathroom looking in the mirror at the stoma marks and felt a little
bit sick for the first time. Fear of the unknown…
Tried the
dongle from my ward bed, not a sausage! I don’t know what I’m going to do
without my bellies. I feel lost already. It’s highly doubtful I will be
traveling outside tomorrow for a catch up. I’ve been trying to organise
everything so that it’s all reachable tomorrow without pulling anything or
trying to lift anything. Remembering how ill I have been in the past is pretty
depressing and not something I ever think about. This hospital smells like my
old one and I don’t like it.
Had an ECG,
told I’m nil by mouth from midnight, asked for a pee sample, MRSA swabs done
and the docs will be round to chat and fill forms in later. It’s already 9.30.
I could have been at work all day and still done this! Tut.
Hot
chocolate and as many biscuits as she’s willing to give me (4)! Someone’s
snoring already so I text my mum to say I forgot ear plugs, I don’t know how I forgot,
it’s one of the worst things about the hospital the lack of sleep!
I’m
shattered now, it seems like it’s been a really long day. I’m in a lot of pain
but fortunately the nurse forgot to take my pain meds away yet (I always have a
row about this, they always win).
Funny ward
this. It’s a bowel ward yet there are 8 beds to 1 toilet. Everyone hearing me
go for a poo is not my idea of fun. In my normal hospital there’s a wash area
with a row cubicles with basins in, there isn’t one here…
Anyway,
that’s enough of the observations for tonight. I’m listening to all the ladies
gassing about everything and nothing and it’s somehow now 10 o’clock already.
It would be nice to go to sleep but I still have doctors to see whenever they
feel like rocking up so… One narky Sahara coming right up!
Day 2: Op day. July 16th
It’s
actually the 24th :/
I am trying
to piece bits of info together from notes I have made on my phone and the odd
message I have sent!
Why do they
insist on taking your obs (observations: Blood pressure, heart rate, temperature
for those of you are unfamiliar) every few hours when you haven’t had surgery
yet? You are keeping awake a very irritated lady!
4am, rudely
awoken to stick my canular in and take some bloods! Cheers love!
Minutes
later… "Sahara, you’re going to hate me, I have just thrown your bloods in the
bin, I’m not going to lie. I need some more, sorry darling."
I couldn’t be
mad, she was far too mortified lol.
6am. Awoken
for a nurse to come measure me up for my sexy stockings and bought me my sexy
gown. Heaven knows why this had happen at 6 am when my ops not til 8.30…
Totally beyond me!
I got up and
walked outside the front of the hospital to put on an update on the belly group
about being really busy before anyone notices I’ve fallen off the radar.
I’m a
regular poster so people are bound to notice something fishy going on soon
enough! I’ve also had to stop my #100HappyDays because I can’t really get any
pics in here that don’t show where I am in all fairness wouldn’t have thought
of anything yesterday, never mind today and I’m certainly doubtful about making
it outside again, so I updated my personal Facebook too.
I’m back in
bed now, ready to go back to sleep and a nurse just came to measure for my
stockings… I told her they already did and she asked if someone had already
done a checklist. I said no so someone will be back to do that shortly.
Communication is obviously great here. Bye bye sleep. I can barely keep my eyes
open!
In just a
couple of hours I will be going under general anaesthetic. I quite like it in a
weird way! It’s weird how fast you go!
I still
haven’t seen the surgeon so am still full of questions. I am assuming I will
wake up with a drain and catheter but I like to be prepared for such things. My
aim is to get up and mobile as soon as soon as I feel well enough to do so
without pushing myself too hard or too fast. After losing the ability to walk
after my first op, this sticks in my mind.
I just
heard someone arrive at reception that’s here to see me.
Intriguing…
10 minutes
later and she still hasn’t arrived at my bed so I think I’ll close my eyes.
Nope,
someone came to do my checklist.
And it was
the anaesthetist that was at reception but she’s beggared off elsewhere.
I asked
whether I would see the surgeon and get too ask all of my questions. She said
she thought and would hope so but could not promise. Sam her name was. I
remember because she is nice and I have seen her a few times since.
The ladies
on the ward are up and gabbing already and one was on the way to the loo but
stopped for a chat.. I am taking my wash bag to get clean and dry shampoo’d and
into me theatre gear!
7.40am,
anaesthetist came – still not made this freshen up! I will be having an epidural so looking forward to a
pain free tummy for a change!
NOW, back
to these socks and a wash…
NOPE!!
Specialist came! WAAAHHH!!
He drew me
a picture of what they could see on the scan. There are two areas of stricture.
One really long one which is the intestine leading to the Jpouch and then
situated very close to that another much shorter and tighter stricture which
looks like it is active with disease from scans. Removal of these may mean the
intestine no longer reaches the pouch. The pouch may also need revising.
Explained
why this is complicated and why they cannot tell me whether I will wake up with
a temp ileostomy, permanent ileostomy, Jpouch intact, or removed, revised,
whether they can carry out strictureplasty, anything really until they get in
because they just don’t know how bad it is and what I will be left with. They
will be checking the rest of the small intestine too whilst in there.
Finally
washed and ready to rock!
Now I have
told everyone at every possible opportunity that has asked me the same
questions over and over again about the Butrans patch I have on and as I am sat
waiting to have the epidural put in I mention it again in a discussion with the
aneastetists when discussing post op pain medication. Well yes apparently it
did matter so it’s a bloody good job I mentioned it again. Glad someone looking
out for me.. ie, me!
I laid down
after the epidural went in, and was disappointed when I just ‘woke up’. Where was my fun
of counting down?! Huh!
I was in
recovery for some time apparently as my heart etc had been having a bit of a
meltdown during the procedure.
Obviously
the first thing I did when I woke up in my oxygen mask was check around my
belly.
Yup, there
it was, left hand side, massive stoma. Fab. I spend a while trying to fully
regain consciousness properly and then ask the nurse when someone will be
speaking with me about what was done, found, is this ileo permanent or
temporary. Probably morning she tells me. She tells me its permanent but I have
no idea who she is…
Back on the
ward. Lots of text messages, cannot be bothered to respond. I am angry because
I have no idea what’s what and I’m in awful lot of pain.
They let me
eat and drink on the ward straight away and I even had biscuits at bedtime!
My mam and
dad visited between 6 and 8. Unfortunately I have nothing to tell them. The
nurse came round to check dressings etc when they were there so we all got to
have a look at Porta (That's his name. He is going to be my Porta loo for quite some time) My god he was massive. No joke, it was like a big red
peach stuck to my abdomen!
There are
drains and wires coming out of every orifice as usual!
I've never
had one hanging out me arse before though. That’s a new one!
Finally at
10.45pm my complaints of pain have been heard and I WANT TO SEE THE FUCKING
SURGEON!!! A doctor AND nurse tried make me look stupid telling me I have an
epidural. I know that love but the only thing that is numb is the whole of my fucking
right leg and my left leg to my knee! The doctor came with an ice pack which
completely proved my theory that where was absolutely no numbing to my stomach
at all and a prescription is being written up for Oramorph, I have that at home
and it doesn’t do shit! I demand they take the epidural out. I will NOT be able
to walk while I can’t feel my legs. The nurse tries telling me you can never
walk when you have an epidural and I tell her she is a blatant liar as my I
have had one before when I had my pouch op and was fully mobile now get the
fucking thing out. They do as they are told.
I’m
worrying about the stoma. It’s huge and so cold. Worrying there’s no food
making its way through here for a while.
I text my
mum in a panic about nighties, I DON’T OWN NIGHTIES!! I have PJ’s! The last
time I needed nighties was when I was in for an op 5 years ago! All my planning
and preparation and LISTS and I totally forgot the issue a catheter throws in
when it’s hanging out your ‘floosie’.
Day 3: July 17th
7am and I
‘think’ I can hear my tummy gurgling. Hopefully that’s a good sign… My Oromorph
never arrived last night… I was popping my own secret stash of tramadol
instead. A nurse has just been to tell me that she has called the pain team but
they don’t start til 9am.
When the
doctors did their ward round, one of the surgeons that was working on me came
and was telling me ‘You made us sweat! We had to get an extra surgeon in on the
job. You were a mess’.
What does
he want? A medal for doing his fecking job?! Coz they clearly don’t get paid
enough do they? Now he wants a bunch of flowers and a bloody thank you note as
well!
My pouch had been torn during the op so a TEMPORARY stoma had been created while the pouch healed. The plan is to be reconnected in 3 months, assuming the pouch is healed.
The pain
team lady came early. I’ve got the morphine PCA up and the lovely lady
administers a fair few shots to make me comfortable before buggering off.
My surgeon
comes later and declares ‘I don’t know how you have been walking around and functioning
for the last two years with the state of your insides’!
Coz I’m a
hard bastard aren’t I… That and I had no choice coz my whinging had been
ignored for quite some time.
My mum and
dad came for a 15 minute visit. I don’t really remember. I was off my face on
morphine. I was throwing up bile before they left. I kept throwing up when they
had gone. I was that out of it that I kept throwing up in the bowl, passing out
and coming back round covered in sick having dropped the bowl on myself! That
was two new nighties covered in vomit!
***
It’s taken
months for me to return to my blog. I’m nearly 8 weeks post op now…
Anyway,
back to the story! By the time I had been awake long enough to press the buzzer
to alert the nurses you could barely see me or the hospital sheets for vomit.
Two nurses held me sat up on the end of the bed while I drifted in and out of consciousness.
I don’t remember them changing the bed but they did.
The whole
day is pretty much a blur. I have vague memories of a nurse coming to do an
ECG. Having an MRI scan and vomiting some more in the process and constant
checks on my blood pressure and bloods being taken. I had an NG tube put in to
remove the bile and stop me retching too. My bowel was so swollen that nothing
could get through so only had one way out, which was up. This comes as no
surprise to me as this has happened after every op I’ve had and you only have
to look at my stoma to see the extent of the swelling.
Some (no
idea how many) hours later and I’m laid in the hospital bed surrounded by all
the doctors I had seen so far plus a few! I could hear them talking about me,
debating what was wrong, how to fix it and talking about how shallow my
breathing was. I tried to breathe deeper so that they knew I could hear, but I couldn’t. They shone torches
into my eyes, prodded and poked me, and shouted my name but I couldn't speak or move a muscle
to tell them I could hear them. I'm not going to lie, I thought I was going to die. The team of people around me were panicking, and so was I. Being conscious but having no control over own body was terrifying.
FINALLY, I was
brought back around after a few shots of Naloxone, straight into
my wrists, which left some pretty hefty bruises! It was genuinely like the scene in Trainspotting - shooting back up the surface. As the morphine wore off, the pain
was horrendous and I was screaming in agony. And then I was asleep.
The next
morning I demand to see a doc to tell me what the feck happened yesterday! He
tells me that the anaesthetist had overdosed me. It might just be my shoddy
memory but I don’t remember seeing an anaesthetist after the general anaesthetic.
Why would I have? Apparently they had filed a report that the wrong line had
been put in and whatever it is that is supposed to stop the PCA administering
morphine didn’t exist. It was the pain team woman who bought my PCA and
connected me up so I’m pretty sure the error must have been hers…
Now, with my
NG tube, I have one extra tube to the ones I already had.
Wanna play
a game? Guess which comes out of where!
The docs
try to persuade me to have the PCA back up. It’s not happening, I opt for being
stabbed in the arm with morphine every hour instead.
After 2
days of the NG tube and nil by mouth I’m whimpering and asking the doc to take
it out. He had the weirdest way of checking for bile build up that I’ve ever
known. He excuses himself for his next actions, puts his head on my boobs (his
ears just underneath where my stomach is) and shook me from side to side.
Nope,
there’s still plenty in there. It’s staying in’ and waltzes off!In an
attempt to shrink my stoma, a nurse pours sugar on him. This is the surgeons
request… Didn’t work may I add, but apparently, sometimes it does!
I can’t
speak when the NG tube is in. How come everyone else can? One word and I gag.
My throat is sore and I am in a foul mood.
Slowly the
tubes are removed. After 5 days the NG tube is removed too and I’m allowed to
eat. It stays down, Porta starts to poop and we’re on the road to recovery!
10 days
after the op and I’m allowed to go home. Well, to my mums to be looked after at
least. Progress was slow. I was pathetic for a good few days but what do you
expect when you’re 6 stone 4 with very little appetite and no muscle. I looked
horrendous and I felt horrendous.
Not even
four weeks after the op and I returned to work. Lounging around at home is
enough to drive me insane.
I am now
waiting for the X-ray to check my pouch is healed and all being well, I will be
reconnected by Xmas.
