I thought I would like to write down my time in hospital, just before my operation and until I left hospital, in more detail. I know eventually that I will forget some points, and probably am a bit vague on others even now. As I said originally, I had a severe bout of distal/left sided colitis. This started in September last year when I started to be unwell.
Skip to about a week before I was admitted to hospital. I felt like I was dying even then, the pain in my side was pretty unbearable, and I was so nauseas all the time that I couldn’t eat a thing. I managed a couple of Fortsip nutritional drinks, but really, it was hardly anything. I was sick each time I had a drink so was getting very dehydrated. The meds I had been given were useless and I knew that I was deteriorating rapidly. My temperature spiked every night and I could hardly bring myself to move from my bed. My husband had to help me to the toilet, and the pain was so severe on the loo that I would cry and panic. My husband will never forget those days for the rest of his life.
The feelings that go through you when you feel you are dying, are awful. My dad kept coming into my mind as I begged him to do something from “The other side”.( I kept speaking to dad on a regular basis throughout my hospital stay). I was scared to sleep incase I wouldn’t wake up again. I started to have problems urinating, and when I went for a wee, I would run the tap or whistle ( things I remember from my dad years ago to help the process). It didn’t really work and I only trickled or started and then the flow would abruptly stop.
This was when my husband took me to A&E, and I was home 10 weeks later.
I remember the surgeon coming to see me and telling me that I had been ill for too long and that I looked ill and was ill. He said he needed to operate very quickly “Tomorrow ” he said. ( it was Saturday so I was surprised it needed doing that urgently). I told him that I was petrified a wave of sheer panic ran over me. He said that he would do a CT scan, and depending on the results we may have a few days to prepare. Needless to say, I didn’t get the few days. I had half a day with my family, they kept my spirits up and I even remember laughing at one point. Hysterical probably 🙂
A stoma nurse had time to come and see me, she was lovely and I am grateful for that.She told me as much as possible within a short time, and marked my tummy with a dot to show the surgeon where we had decided the stoma would be. I will never forget the porter coming for me, it was surreal. He took me to an empty pre surgery bay, I assume it would have been busier had it not been a Sunday. I saw people walking in and out in their scrubs but they didn’t come to me. I had too much time to think and I didn’t like it one bit. Eventually a doctor came to me and said that they needed time to get some blood for me, as I had an antibody in my blood that wasn’t “in stock”.If there wasn’t any in the hospital, surgery would be delayed. There was a big chance I would need blood, so they wouldn’t operate without it. They then took me to the recovery bay while they waited for the blood. I just lay there, watching people coming back from surgery, and doctors and nurses tending to them. No one really spoke to me as I was just there waiting. It was pretty awful, as I had already waited in the previous room. I hope someone might read this and realise that patients awaiting surgery, really don’t want lots of delay and to be left alone.
After what seemed like hours, I was wheeled into the pre-theatre room to be prepared for surgery. It was quite a small room but was pretty full with doctors , nurses ,anaesthetists . They informed me that they were going to put an epidural in and got me to sit on the edge of the trolley. I was so scared I asked if I could be sedated before I went through into theatre. They obliged there and then, it was brilliant sedation because I remember nothing else until I was in the high dependency unit.
I woke up and immediately had the thought that at least I had made it through surgery. My throat was the most painful thing, and I could hardly talk or swallow with the tube down my nose.I thought that I might not be able to cope with this, knowing I had no choice. My family came to see me, and the memory is slightly vague, but so was the visit as I was so sleepy. I remember some words and hugs which I mention in my first blog. Later I remember a nurse coming to me and all I seem to see, was her unravelling lots and lots and LOTS of wires , that were attatched to my neck mostly. It was very strange, because she seemed to be doing that for hours.
A doctor came and said that I had had a central line put into my neck vein, and that it hadn’t been fitted correctly and some of my vitals were not on the screen. He said he would have to take it all out and replace it on the other side. I was still a bit dazed so just nodded. He covered my face with a plastic see-through sheet, and am sure he covered his own head with one too, was I imagining this I wonder? I must ask. Next he put a local anaesthetic in my neck and there was a lot of pulling and pushing. It was dark and the sheet made me so hot, I was struggling and was scared, but eventually he finished that side and transferred the wires, then took out the other central line.
Again the nurse seemed to be ages messing with all the wires. I remember some other patients coming and going, although there are only four in HDU at one time with 2 nurses. I have to admit, you feel quite safe knowing someone is there constantly watching you. They were all exceptional and cared for me so much.
They let me have sips of water, and I was so happy when they took out the tube. What a strange sensation, they tell you to take a deep breath then exhale while they pull it out. Just when you think you can’t exhale anymore, out it comes. Then came the first cup of tea, I thought I would just glug it down, but was shocked when a few sips were enough. They explained that I had ileus, which is when the bowel shuts down and goes to sleep through being handled during surgery. It can take a while to wake up so I have to be slow with food and drink. If I am constantly sick, in goes the tube again. I was asleep when it went in the first time, so the thought of being awake to have it put in filled me with dread.
I was on the high dependancy unit for three days before I went on the ward.