I had returned to the hospital on The Wednesday after going home on leave. It was to be the beginning of a new life. I was to learn to catheterise my new stoma. Well its not really supposed to be a stoma as such. It is supposed to be nothing more than a puck in the skin. Unreconisable to anyone should I show my belly off in public. LOL not likely! But for my own peace of mind and aesthetic self esteem. It would basically mean I would pop of to the loo, and place a small tube in drain the urine out and bobs your uncle. Hello no more freezing cold toilet seats in winter (except for no 2) I took that as a positive.:)
I was a bit squeemish due to hypersensitivity issues. I had joked with a nurse at the beginning of my stay. I asked her to tell me to not be a wanker if I backed out of something. Bless her cotton socks. Being a foreigner to our beautiful country she took my word literally. As we strolled back down into the ward, she said "you know what you told me to say at the beginning"? I looked at her quizzically, an expression of complete dumbness on my forehead. "you know, your not to be a WANKER!" I laughed looking at the other nurse. Damn she had taken my word literally not understanding the meaning. The other patients grinned. I didn't know what to say without embarrassing her, and she was being really supportive. So I decided to not be a wanker. It actually wasn't painful. More nerves.
Unfortunately after removing the stoma bags, I discovered a leak. Oh and a cherry on top. A little piece of red thing was exposed. Its really little but alas not what I had expected. I would have to always use a sticking plaster to cover it. I asked my consultant when she came to see me later. I asked if it would go away."I dont know." OOOOO.K. Next question "Um when will the leaking stop, is it normal?" "I don know." Gee that was helpful. My confidence soared through the window, out to Hagley park, and deftly swooped down into the helecopter pad, and got smashed to smithereens. My still gimpy leg and I swiftly shuffled outside for a concilatory smoke, complimented by some humbling music bashing in my ears from my MP3 player soothing my mind.
It had been a month to the day of the surgery. I knew I had a long way to go.
Over the next few weeks, my Nurse Maude Nurses came and went. They were and are amazing. So supportive and understanding. They got to know me, and see me in my own enviroment. With my kids, and cats, and friends popping in. They saw me outside of an enviroment that was incredibly depressing at times. They saw me less vulnerable, and a stronger person. Who was a person. I could build a repore with my main nurse, and form a much more supportive mutual relationship. Dont get me wrong majority of the nurses on the ward were wonderful. But the enviroment itself reeks of compliance, and good patient/bad patient. Oh and god forbod the patient who wants to have a voice.
One thing I was glad of was not having a partner I have chosen to stay single for some years now.I dont mind my own company, and believe its good to have a long break after a relationship. To heal, grow, and find yourself. I hadnt had a real relationship since I was with my ex husband. We had some serious issues. So it has taken many years to rebuild my confidence, and self esteem. I came across to many people that I was confident, but deep down I struggled with some things. Dancing was a great way for me to release tension, and be engrossed in the music. Music totally took over my whole being. It released me emotionally and spiritually. Since my health has declined it became more and more difficult for me to go out. This has been my greatest loss. I fought against losing that part of myself, but for now its healing time. I still have the music. I have more time to focus on the kids sports, and education now. I own a few cats and a dog, they can be interesting, and funny at times. I do other stuff too. I know this may only be temporary. I still have some goals:)
I havent returned to university, and my brain gets bored at times. Yet recovery is of number one importance in my life. However the recovery has been hazardous at times.
I had to be re hospitalised a couple of times. One of those times was for sepsis. Stupidly I sat back and waited for 5 days waiting for the flu to kick in. Oh but it wasn't flu. The muscle aching, headaches, and temperature of over 39 was uro sepis. I felt so ill. But really didn't want hospital. Nurse Maude came and saved the day and gave me a firm word. I shuffled off into my mums car, left my martyr jacket on the floor, and submitted myself to the hospital gods that be. We didn't have to wait long. My vital signs were a bit crazy, so I was given a bed in resus considerably quickly. From there it was back up to the ward. I wasnt a happy camper. But I was in the right place.
I think I will save that one for my next post as sleep becons. Nite.