I have come home, only to have to go to the wound clinic two days later to have my wound evaluated and treated. Then comes the ugly events at IHop. Back home and days of recovery begin, but with the added burden of having this plastic bag attached to my side. It isn't so bad at night, I wear it under my sleep shorts and other than the rustle of plastic is is not uncomfortable.
The visiting nurse comes and helps us understand more about how to attach the "appliance." I will be wearing this appliance for about 10 weeks until the inflammation and incision heal from the resection surgery. For some reason recovery this time is not such a big issue. However, I've been through this before. I do not have the anxiety issue with pain pills because I watch what I take and only take them when I feel some fair amount of discomfort or pain. It isn't too long before I'm taking one in the morning, one in mid-afternoon and one early evening and not taking one when I go to bed because they do not knock me out but put me in la-la land where I don't sleep but just feel good.
The appliance is another thing. We don't seem to master the ability to make it adhere for very long. Plus the output is acidic and I start having skin issues within the appliance. We have ointments to put on, we have antiseptic medications but nothing seems to work. The acid just keeps eating the skin and keeping it irritated. Pretty soon we resort to me lying on the couch when we are going to change the appliance and letting it be exposed to the air for as long as I can stand it. I say stand it because the output from the stoma is not predictable, nor can I feel anything. It just seems to come and I have to blot it with paper toweling. We are going through a lot of paper toweling and it is tiring to lay there and watch you small intestine belch forth waste.
As my strength returns we start to make excursions to stores and shops. For the most part it isn't too bad as long as the appliance doesn't leak but occasionally it does and we have to leave early to come home. About a week after surgery I was lying on the bed in the morning relaxing and thinking about getting up when I noticed a pain in the lower back, right side. It wasn't too bad and considering the surgery I did not think too much of it. It is a Friday. As the morning progresses so does the pain until about 10 AM I am gasping from the intensity of the pain. It now feels like someone has shoved a knife through my back and it is coming out the front. It does not feel like a intestinal blockage, I've had that and the sensation is entirely different. This is powerful and intense.
I tell Terry we need to go to the Dr. We pile in the van, she is driving and I have taken a pain pill but it has not touched the pain. As we go into Jonesboro I am gasping in pain and poor Terry is equally upset. We go to the Dr.'s office, he looks at me and sends me to the hospital for a X-ray and blood work to check for infection. We bundle in the van, down to the hospital and it is excruciating. The attendants can tell I'm in distress and hurry along but still it is over an hour and a half before we have the results and head back to the Dr.'s office. We get there early afternoon and I am really suffering. There is no sign of any cause for the pain, no infection, the blood counts are normal and the X-ray reveals nothing. Then my bag leaks, and I mean it is full and leaking and they have no replacements at the Dr.'s office. The nurse cleans me as best she can and uses adhesive tape to make a temporary repair in the meantime no pain meds. Terry is starting to get upset with the suffering I am going through and starts adding her voice to the urgency.
Finally I am sent back to the hospital and admitted. This is now about 4 PM Friday afternoon. Over eight hours of pain, no pain meds. I am admitted and put on the third floor med/surg area. Nurses are coming in, a RN comes in to take my history, Terry has to do much of the talking as I am in too much pain now. The nurses initially are not able to replace the bag, finally Terry tells them certainly in this hospital there is someone who must know how to properly change the bag. Finally they get two nurses from the oncology ward to come up and they are successful so at least one part of the dilemma is solved for the time being. I am taken down for a CT scan and the pain is so intense I get sick and vomit while in the room only there is nothing to throw up but I have to go through the convulsions. At one point the young nurse tries to help me up from the table I was lying on to have the scan and we can't make it so I inadvertently grab her inner thigh to give me some leverage. I am embarrassed and apologize, she understands and says it is no big deal. I got off the gurney though, back into the wheel chair and back up to the room. By now it is about 7 PM. I am convinced I have passed (a or some) kidney stones. The Dr. says there is no evidence of kidney stones and I finally get Dilaudid to ease the pain. However instead of a drip I am allowed one shot every two hours. A compassionate nurse comes in to put the drug in the IV and says let's see, here is one shot for the first two hours you've been here, here is one for the second two hours, and in forty-five minutes you'll be able to have a third. The pain starts to subside, but it is still pretty powerful.
In the meantime Terry is looking distraught. She has been with me every step of the way, pretty much powerless in the drama except as an empathetic observer. She looks like she would just like to sit down and cry. We have called my daughter Kristi to let her know and about the time I have received the first meds Kristi calls and says she is on here way from Chicago and will be there about two or three in the morning. It is as though an angel has responded. I talk with Terry and we decide she should go home, I am fairly settled and while still experiencing some pain it is milder and she needs to go home and rest.
She goes home, I'm left to the tender mercies of the nurses and they are great. About 2:30 AM I hear Kristi's voice asking for directions. Here she is, smiling, tired but in my room. I am so relieved I am in tears, along with old "Misty Kristi."
There ends part 4.
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