I was taken to ICU and told that I would be there for about 3 days. I didn’t want to be there, just wanted to go home. I felt stiff, and sore, and my stomach was swollen up like a balloon. I tried moving but couldn’t really. It felt like I was paralysed in my lower abdomen. DH was there, cause I heard his voice. He was asking the doctor if I was okay and how the surgery went, and he wanted to know, again, that I could still have children. The doctor said he removed my right fallopian tube, and repaired the one on the left, and yes, I would be able to have children one day. He then said I lost six pints of blood, they gave me four of my own back and two pints from the fridge. I looked up to my left and there was a bag of blood attached to a needle in my wrist. The other one in my hand was for something else. Someone put a pipe over my head and I got a fright. It freaked me out and I didn’t like it. DH told me to relax and that it was just oxygen. I felt better then. I felt okay. The doctor aske me how I was feeling and I told him I felt a lot better than I did when I first arrived. The aneasthetist also came to see that I was okay. I was the centre of attention.
A lady walked in a few moments later, she was introduced as Kgomotso, the physiotherapist. She greeted me and said she would see me the following day to get me up to walk. The last thing on my mind was walking. I don’t know how much morphine they gave me, cause I felt only a little pain, but I felt like I was drunk. Not such a nice feeling. I got my own nurse, and she was really amazing. I was still thirsty but wasn’t allowed to have anything until the next day, when my intestines had settled. Someone gave DH some ice that I could suck on in the mean time. He also bought me a set of headphones so I could watch tv. I wasn’t in the mood, I just wanted to lie there alone. After a while DH left to go home and get me some toiletries and I was left to rest. He said he would be back later. I prayed later that day, again, to thank God for saving me, to thank him that I was brought here just in time, to thank him that I got another chance, and promised him I would be a better person.
Later that evening the nurses shift changed, and I got a new nurse. She came to stand at my left side, introduced herself, and said she heard my story from another nurse, and that she is so sorry for me. She then cried and said life isn’t fair, and we all have our stories, and then went on to say she is working night shift cause she has no other choice. Her family had been shot in riots in the squatter camps. I felt really bad for her.
DH arrived later, I think it was at 20h45, it was late. He walked in with my brother who looked like he was about to burst into tears. My brother hugged me, said he was happy that I was ok, and walked out. I guessed I was a sight for sore eyes, full of pipes and drips and bags, hooked up to the vital signs monitor. There were four colours. Green, blue, yellow and red. Green was for my pulse, blue was oxygen (I think), red was my blood pressure and I forget what the yellow one was for. DH said my father was there and he would go and get him. I thought to myself - great, just what I need to put my dad through. My dad and his girlfriend came around the corner and he turned white as a sheet. I’ve never seen my dad cry but he had tears in his eyes today. They both stood on either side and held my hands. They didn’t say much and I was glad for the silence. Soon it was time to go and I was tired out from the visit. DH had brought a few toiletries.
I woke up every now and then throughout the night, I asked for more morphine. The day nurse told me I get to have as much morphine as I want when I’m in ICU. I wasn’t going to give this up. I looke around the ICU ward, there were about twelve rooms, with the nurse’s station in the middle. The lights out there were so bright. My room was so bright. I was glad when they turned off the lights. The clock right infront of me was driving me insane. I just watched the time go.
In the morning the nurse came in, it was now bath time. Lovely, bath time and I couldn’t move. DH forgot to pack a towel and face cloth. Nice. She went to get some that belonged to the hospital. I’ve never been washed in a bed, I wouldn’t recommend it. Rolling over was the worst part - I couldn’t, I was holding on to the side bars of the bed with dear life as the nurses did their thing, washing me from head to toe. Then they had to change the bedding. I couldn’t even see how that would’ve been possible. But they did it, and it was painful for me. I even got a fresh nightgown. Getting into it was a problem. I had so many pipes coming out of me they had to carefully unhook my blood bad and my drip bag, pull them through the sleeves of the gown, hook them back up again, make sure everything was right, and then only could they pull my arms through. I wasn’t happy at all, they could have been a bit more gentle with me. I felt the one needle move in my wrist and it hurt. They use a clear, thick, sticky tape to hold the needles in place. Perfect, I wonder if they ever realized how long my arm hairs were? They eventually left me in peace. Still no breakfast or liquids for me until the doctor came by. Everyone kept asking me if I gym a lot or run a lot because my pulse was so good. I laughed a small laugh and said no, I really should run or gym, but I don’t. I use my mind a lot. Does that count? Then I said I don’t smoke, it could be that.
The doctor came by later on that morning while he did his rounds. He looked happy with my progress. He said they can take me to the normal ward, I was going to be just fine. He also said they should not put me in the natal ward, but take me to head & neck. I asked him if I could eat or drink something and he said yes, I could. About time! Someone brought me a paper menu so I could choose my breakfast, lunch, and supper. The day nurse was back for her shift and she was chatting away. I really liked her. She ordered a porter to take me to the other ward, and said there is a bed waiting for me. I told her I wasn’t sure I could get out of this one and into that one. Kgomotso arrived, also chatty, and we did some exercises in the bed. She showed me how to roll over, and get up, and get back into bed. How could something so simple, something I do every day without thinking, be almost impossible to do now? It hurt, I wanted to cry, but I did everything she asked of me, except walk. I did get out of the bed, I couldn’t stand up straight, I hobbled over like an old woman. I told her I couldn’t walk around just yet, and she said it was okay and helped me get back into bed. I needed to sneeze, she said I need to hold my wound and pull my knees in. I did just in time, I thought I was going to rip my stitches. I hadn’t even seen my wound yet. She looked at it when the nurse came to change my dressing, and they both said it looks great. Great for major abdominal surgery. The porter arrived.
After getting a few surprise visits, I realised that DH must have phoned the whole world in his panic. It was good to see my friends. I also got some beautiful flowers and they really did their job by cheering me up. Breakfast came but I didn’t have much of an appetite, neither with lunch, nor dinner.
Getting up for the first time to walk around was tremendously painful and difficult, and tiring. Who would have thought that trying to do such normal things can take so much out of you. And that was just to the loo and back. And I got stuck. After struggling to get out of the bed, I got ready to try and walk to the bathroom. I then realised I needed to walk with my drip, but it was plugged into the wall. I was stuck! I didn’t know what to do and I couldn’t exactly run to the nurses station to ask. I looked at the bed and lying over there on the opposite end was the call button. Great. Just my luck. I shuffled back to the bed, leaned painfully over it and grabbed the call button. After what seemed like far too long, the nurse arrived and asked what is wrong. I told her I’m stuck and I NEED to go to the loo. She laughed and said I must just pull the chord out the back of the drip machine and press cancel when the alarm goes off. I thought to myself wow, at least if I get shocked, I’m already in the hospital. Go figure. So off I went to do my thing.
When I opened the bathroom door, DH had arrived and he smiled when he saw me. I think he was happy to see I was up and out of bed. I told him I needed to walk around a bit so he helped me put on my dressing gown and walked with me. We couldn’t have walked far but I was exhausted by the time we got back to the ward.
His dad popped in to see me, and he was sitting on the edge of my bed and we were all chatting when my doctor came in to check on me. Lucky me being the centre of attention. I actually wished for a moment that everyone would just leave me alone. I hadn’t even cried properly yet.
Night time came and the nurse asked me if I would like tablets or an injection to help me sleep. I told her I want an injection, I thought that would start working quickly. It did.
Soon I was allowed to go home. The drive home was long, and difficult. I felt every bump in the road. But I was going home.
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