Now for the story of my hospitalization. I really should have taken notes; the timeline in my head does not quite work out. I don’t plan on this being a play by play so that shouldn’t be that much of a problem.
When I was back in my room I was hooked up all over the place. I had an IV in one hand, a hep lock in other, and Foley catheter for my urine. A hep lock is an inserted IV tube whose end is capped. They can give injections through it when needed. I have never had both an IV and a hep lock. The IV was just saline until they installed the PCA (patient-controlled analgesia) pump. They have me a choice of morphine or oxycontin. I was conservative and went for morphine which I know worked well for me. Now I wish I had tried the oxy to find if it might be better. It’s a brilliant idea, the patient controls when he or she gets a shot of pain med. You can’t overdose as it’s a set amount on each push of the button and you can’t have one more than every 10 minutes. It gives the patient a feeling of control. My guess is that it would work to some affect even if it delivered a placebo. I see no virtue in avoidable pain. On the other hand I don’t want to be doped up. I pressed the button either when the pain got worse or if I about to do something that I knew would hurt. What do I know will hurt? Moving.
Abdominal surgery leaves you helpless. You need your abdominal muscles every time you want to move your torso. That first day, I could not move myself on the bed. I could move my arms and legs but moving my body even a few inches was a struggle. The second day wasn’t much better. This is why you need a hospital bed. I could raise and lower the ends so I could sit up. I was never flat on my back.
The toughest part is that I was NPO, hospital talk for nothing by mouth. I just looked it up, the initials are for the Latin, “nil per os.”I got all the fluid I needed from my IV but my mouth felt like cotton. The only relief was ice chips. This wasn’t the harshest form of NPO. The theory is that as the ice melts it doesn’t even get past your throat..
An abdominal surgery patient’s best friend is his coughing pillow. Nothing hurts as much as coughing but you need to cough to keep your lungs clear. You put the pillow over your abdomen to hold your guts in so the abdominal muscles don’t have to do all the work. You can’t use your hands as the pressure by then on incisions is agonizing. You have to spread the force out. It was not until last night that I could cough without a pillow. The incision pain has lessened so I can use my hands.
My entertainment was my phone and the TV. The selections of stations was not great and to make it worse there was nothing to indicate what station corresponded to the channel numbers. You can’t put in a number; all you can do is move the channels up or down. The stations were from 3 to 67 but all the ones above 55 had nothing on them. I found myself watching things I never would under other circumstances. I saw Man of Steel and Batman vs Superman. I love many films based on comics but those are not very good. I lucked into some good movies, The Godfather Parts 1 and 2 and Doctor Strangelove. There were obscure films in there too. I did rediscover watching NBA playoff basketball and even ESPN talk shows. The problem is that the talk is like FiveThirtyEight for people who don’t want evidence-based opinions. They say a lot of stupid things to each other.
I was at the mercy of the hospital staff, luckily most of them were wonderful. I worked on remembering everyone’s names but the one that still sticks with me is Aideen, the overnight nurse. Her manner made me feel better and was always so happy to help. When she was treating me we’d make small talk. We discussed her Irish name. You know me and Irish culture. I had trouble remembering her name for a while. I’d remember it was a man’s name with an extra letter but would forget which one. I realized that the key was to think of a specific Aiden, that was easy, my friend Aiden Quinn from the band Friction Farm. Aiden isn’t on social media so Christine you tell him that I thought of him every day.
While most of the staff was remarkable and friendly, there were unfortunate exceptions. One nurse’s aid complained every time I needed help. That’s the last thing you want when you are totally dependent. There were no smile and no personal interaction. I tried; I always try. I always start by asking everyone’s name. I want to make some sort of connection.
I didn’t complain to the bad ones, that would just make things worse, but I let every good one know how good they were, and they were exceptionally good. There was one nurse who was so good at pushing patients while not being a martinet. When I heard her with my roommate I could see from the outside how closely she hewed to the perfect line. She wouldn’t let him feel like a failure but she wouldn’t let him give up without effort. When he succeeded, he was praised. She did the same with me but it’s harder to see from the inside of the interaction.
When I wasn’t watching TV I was listening to music on my phone. On Sunday that meant WFUV. The other days it was classical music on WQXR and stations on Prime Music. The staff knew I was the guy that had the music on. On Sunday my Jamaican nurse’s assistant did a jig to the Irish music on WFUV. We talked about the influence of Ireland on Jamaican culture. It’s amazing how much that kind of thing helps you deal with everything.
My medical progress was not steady and there were setbacks, but like the tide, it was inevitable. On Friday morning they removed the Foley. The first hurdle was being able to pee on my own. That was always a post-surgical problem for me and my parents. This time I did well. I started not that long after the catheter was removed. The tough part was positioning myself to use the urinal. I still could not turn on my side. I found a way to inch myself up a bit and put the coughing pillow underneath me to put me at a slight angle. There are lots of little challenges like that after surgery. It helps to look at them as puzzles to solve. I’m still doing them as I’m far from healed.
After the doctors made the round they took me off NPO and put me on clear liquids. I was so grateful that I could drink water but leery of putting anything into my stomach as I could hardly feel any bowel activity. It was just like when I have an obstruction. The doctors felt it was moving, just slowly. I had clear chicken broth, apple juice, and orange jello. I had them without much appetite. As I feared they had no place to go. I could feel the pressure in my abdomen rise. I knew what that meant and asked for something to vomit into. Sometime on Saturday I emptied my stomach content into the basket they had given me. It was very unpleasant but I felt better afterward. I was back on NPO.
On Sunday had a bowel movement, I passed some gas. I was put back on clear liquids. This was the big test. My intestines had woken up, would they work right. They were not up to full speed but they did something.
I felt like I was wearing a corset in the front that stopped me from eating and breathing. That was in part the mesh holding me in that my body was unaccustomed to. I tried Buddha breathing to no avail. I could not get my tummy to bulge out. The surgeon told me that would pass. He was right. It’s still limited but at least I just went half Buddha.
By Friday was able to get out of bed with help. Once out I could walk. Each time I walked it was easier and I went further. The first attempt was with a walker and all I managed to do was go to the door and then to a chair. After I sat in the chair the PT took my blood pressure. It was ridiculously low 72/60. He got me right back in bed. The next walk went better, and each one afterwards I went further. I started taking laps around the floor leaning on my IV poll. I knew that was the best way to get my intestines up and running again. My basic plan was whenever I got uncomfortable where I was I’d get up and take a walk and then move from bed to chair or chair to bed. I needed help getting in and out of bed for a few days so I’d have to wait for a nurse or aid to come when I called for her.
I was trying to make contingency plans to get home every day. It was a scramble but I always had someone but then stayed another night. On Monday morning was put on solid food. Solid being a can of Boost, that was not an enticing breakfast. The doctor told me that if possible friends should bring me outside food. My Monday morning contingency plan for leaving was being picked up by Allison and Joe who would be passing through the Bronx on the way home from a visit to Allison’s mother. I asked them to bring me a burger and fries. After I did that the nurse was able to get me a peanut butter sandwich. Real food I love! I did not gobble it up. I didn’t love it. But it tasted good enough that I could slowly get it down. I was still feeling bloated. A few hours later Joe came by with a quarter-pounder with cheese from MacDonald’s and an order of fries. I couldn’t finish it, as I told me doctor, I had three quarters of a quarter-pounder.
When the doctor heard what I had eaten he said I could go home. I never dreamed of that when I woke up in the morning. I had no contingency plan for getting home. My roommate/landlord Beruthiel had asked if there was anything I wanted her to bring me. I texted her and asked her for a ride home after work.
The must frustrating part of leaving was waiting for a wheelchair to bring me downstairs. It finally came. It’s so weird, I had been walking all over the place but to leave I needed a wheelchair. I got to the door before Beruthiel and waited for her to text me that she was there. And that was that. I had my chariot ride home. She dropped me off in front of the house and I made my way inside by myself. I even took the stairs up the one flight instead of waiting for the elevator because I felt I could. Moving and keeping active after surgery is important to avoid complications.
I made myself dinner, peanut butter on matzoh. That made portion control easy. I enjoyed my good peanut butter more than the generic in the hospital but still didn’t eat with my usual gusto. I’ll pick up the story from there tomorrow.
Wise Madness 