Day 1: Anticipating Pain is as Difficult as Remembering It!

Left Jaw Pain: 4/10
Right Jaw Pain: 8/10
Hip Pain: 3/10 (only when vomiting)
Inconvenience factor: 15/10

 

I don't want to dwell on my time in ICU too much. It's not pleasant and I can't see it serving much purpose.....unless one of you is a budding gore movie writer and needs some material! But if you are squeamish - maybe skip this bit.

I remember staring at the clock. 7:27. I assumed this was PM. I was awake....instant relief washed over me. Then every other sensation started tuning in looking for attention. Oh wow. This was not going to be a fun ride I could tell that already. I flashed in and out of consciousness for the next 12 hours with varying degrees of pain, discomfort, agitation and most of all nausea. Sometimes I wonder which is worse. Pain or Nausea? They were fighting it out for the title that night. My first spew was after about 10 mins of consciousness. I must let you know that vomiting becomes an advanced manoeuvre when your teeth are held tightly together with elastics (allowing only a few mm of separation). Adopt foetal position on the left hand side (I was very quick to discover that the right side of my head was far more painful for some reason) and wretch. Oooh....Ow...my hip! Put hand on hip, cough, wretch into bag again. Delightful! 

Removing of the nasal intubation tube had left my nose in a bit of delicate state so the first big heave caused my nose to bleed. And well, not really stop. So the solution was to tape a big bung of bandage under it. I must have been pretty as a picture at this point. Then I remember pain in my arm, I am guessing subcutaneous drug of some description and I was gone again. 

I would wake try and cope with the incessantly queasy stomach. Beg the nurse for anti-nausea. Puke up blood in bag when I got it right and all over the sheets, when I missed. The taste, sight and smell is not something I wish to repeat in a hurry let me assure you.

It's all become a bit of a flash back picture show. Here are some highlights: 

I recall being extremely agitated a few times. Once my legs felt tied together and adopting a functional foetal position was becoming impossible. I told the nurse, well tried to, I can't imagine my speech was very good right then and I couldn't understand why my legs wouldn't work. Eventually, eventually, after 3 attempts to communicate with her she worked out my problem when I literally ripped the sheets from my legs. They had attached some pads to my calves and thighs to massage them (presumably to keep the blood flowing). In reality they were horribly irritating and had woven into a tangled mess of velcro straps which had effectively hog-tied me. She kindly set me free! 

After 3 or 4 bouts of yakking, and lots of begging for drugs, they told me they had to stop giving me anti-nausea as I had swallowed a lot of blood during surgery and that blood in the stomach does bad things so it was just better if I brought it up. Geez Great! One for the bucket list! 

At one point an angel actually appeared (Thanks Emma). I could have kissed her. She listened to me - no idea if she knew what I said but she gave me the low down. Told me I was in step down (a good sign). She'd checked the charts and I was doing well and in very good hands. She told me she'd decided not to play paparazzi as requested as I look, well 'less than my best' and blamed the Betadine! :) She then squeezed my arm gently and flew away. I closed my eyes and rested peacefully.

Peacefully that is, until I was visited by the devil. I had firmly adopted the foetal position so that blood could flow out of my bleeding nose onto the bandage rather than down the back of my throat. Even in my drugged state, I knew that at the end of my throat is the oesophagus which leads to my stomach. No more blood for there, thank you very much! The cupid faced, motherly looking Devil, wanted me to lie on my back. I refused. She tried harder. No!!!! Apparently she was anxious about me getting bed sores. WHAT!?!?! I've only been here a few hours. I'd rather a few freaking bed sores than more blood puking right now lady!!! Not a hard decision (not that I've ever had bed sores so maybe I am doing them a disservice)! It was an epic battle of wills that lasted for more than 2 hours, but no amount of cajoling or devil treachery was going to trick me into lying on my back again!!!!

There is more but I think you get the idea. It was no Caribbean cruise adventure. 

I recall starting to feel vaguely in control about 8-9am the next morning. The nausea had subsided a bit, my nose had stopped bleeding, those damn massage pads were removed, the devil's shift was over and I could hold focus on things for more than a few minutes at a time. Now I was just overwhelmingly tired. 

Around 10:30am I think, they placed me on a wheelchair, took me to a bathroom and made me presentable. It took awhile - I think I was pretty mucky! Upon my return my bed was snowy white again, I was handed my gown, a fresh crisp sparkling pin-stripe number and my hair was brushed. What was this? Had I actually managed to remain human? Oh thank goodness for that! It was, however, all too much effort. I slept. I remember being woken with the news that my chariot to Q5 ward had arrived. 

Finally, I knew that everything would be okay.

The Rock was waiting for me. :) A few friends and family dropped in with cards, flowers, well wishes and plenty of sympathy. And so began the adjustment to life in the ear, throat and nose ward of the hospital.
There were 3 others in my ward, a young lass who had had surgery on her top jaw (presumably the owner of the blood splat on the lamp), the lovely Mr Wilson who had diabetes and a tracheotomy and couldn't talk but seemed to manage to communicate quite successfully with a pen and paper and by clicking like a dolphin. The other bed, I didn't meet, just heard (the noises did not encourage me to explore further).

The routine of the ward was regular as clockwork. Periodic  patient observations (blood pressure, oxygen saturation and ear temperature), 6 hours panamax dispension, harder drug dispension, food dispensing.....repeat.  The lights, the noises and the constant interruptions to rest made the experience all a bit overwhelming as by now I was utterly exhausted. But luckily for me, I found that a good old oxycodene hit, sent me off to sleep in about 5 mins. It was night night by 8pm.