The tube was out and I was relearning how to talk. Thankfully, I’m a talker so I am getting lots of practice. My stay at University hospital was very boring. Each day was almost identical to the one previous. It was the sameness that I grew comfortable with and looked forward to the same things day after day.
Days started with a shower. The shower procedure very unique. I would be transferred onto a 'shower bed' that was water repellent (like a raincoat) with wheels. I was covered only by a blanket and wheeled to the shower room. It was suggested that I continue to use the soap and shampoo I would at home. This way I had familiar smells around me. The nurses would shower me as I lay on the shower bed since I couldn’t do it myself. Without fail the nurses would comment on how nice my shampoo and soaps (Aveda) smelled. It did provide a small comfort to have the familiar around me during a very unfamiliar time.
After personal hygiene was taken care of and my hair was brushed the next thing on the agenda was to lie in bed watching TV. Sometimes my TV was interrupted by a therapy team. Physical Therapists and an occupational therapist would come to my room for 1 hour of therapy. My very first therapy was full of tears it was then confirmed for me(the doctors likely knew, but I didn't).....I couldn’t sit on the side of the bed without falling over.
Before their initial appointment it hadn’t occurred to me to even try. I guess on some level I knew that that would pose some problems. The cause of the instability was the fact that I had NO balance.
Over time I progressed to standing with support. I would look out the window and see the parking garage and busy road. This road was significant since I would travel either running, walking or via bus along this road to get to University. How some things come full circle? I was once a student at the campus and would trek around University Hospital to get to my classes. Now I was a patient within the building that was a nuisance to walk around. (What I would give to be able to walk on the campus, even in the cold and slush)
Therapy was pretty basic. Stand in place or move and\or stack cones. Never both at the same time, that would be too complicated. Stacking things was much like the games I would get my younger brother to play when he was a baby......This is what I was reduced to. The thing that stands out-is that my brain was alert and could recognize the activity was very simple and infant like but my body would not cooperate and easily do the task. My movements were very jerky and erratic and would even miss the target altogether.
After therapy I would have an afternoon of more TV, except I am not into soap Opera’s so TV wasn’t that exciting. I’m not sure what I watched- likely HGTV. What I am sure of is the countdown would have begun for visiting hours. Occasionally I would have someone unexpected in the afternoon. A friend or someone that knew m,e that was at the hospital for another reason and would stop by. Later on after work it was mostly my family; Mom, Dad, and Mike. After supper time ( not mine since I wasn’t eating) Jon might come if he wasn’t working. This was also a time when others would come. So I enjoyed the evenings since they were filled with variety. The early afternoons was a time I had to amuse myself, even though it was only a few hours, went so slooww and dragged on forever.
It occurred to me in early days I realized I was not dressed for visitors. I only had the pathetic hospital gown and NO bra. I was self conscious about that for a bit but that thought went away when I started being dressed in some of my comfy clothes that I would have worn bumming around the house but still No bra. That must of been of serious importance since in my delusional haze I had a dream I ran home and got one.
Going to the bathroom was out of the question so I had to wear adult diapers. I got to the point that I would hold it almost all day because it was embarrassing to alert the nurse I needed to be changed. Just admitting that is embarrassing but that was the reality. It wasn’t until I had been discharged from all hospitals that I thought about an alternative-the bedpan. When I was admitted into Parkwood I was put on the toilet on a regular basis (when I had to go). But due to my no balance the nurse stayed with me. Bowel movements became less private.
At the time it felt like hospital stays were going to be create huge hole in my life and at the time were consuming my lifebut looking back on it...it’s just a small blip. I've now learned not to sweat stuff because it will improve OR with the passage of time seem less and less important in the grand scheme of things.
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