Nuts in the Ward

I had a catheter up my willy, another one out the surgery wound, and a drip in my arm. I was uncomfortable, but thanks to frequent jabs and meds, was not in too much pain. On Friday afternoon I was wheeled through to a private ward for my first in situ session of haemo. What a nice change from ten years ago. They sent the machine up to me, accompanied by my own nurse who oversaw the four hour procedure. And so, I lay through my first haemo in ten years, and it went fine really. The real and only difference from before is that this time I was being treated as a paying customer, and not as an expense at the State.

By Sunday they had removed the two catheters and the doctors/surgeons were discussing my imminent discharge (from hospital, that is). As part of the process, he checked my temp and pulse and lo and behold, they were both too high! Another buzz of action ensued as they took blood and x-rays to diagnose the source of my raised temperature. Coupled with a distinct rattle in my chest, all signs were indicative, and confirmed, as pneumonia! Woohoo!

So three nights in hospital for my three in one surgery, became eight. I was put on a five day drip anti-biotic course and subjected to physio battering daily. She also got me out of bed and 'walking' over those few days. Even though I was bent double and anticipated pain at every step, I was relatively pain free for most of my stay, thanks to medication. The willy and surgery-site catheters were removed fairly early on so that brought some relief, and better mobility in the bed.

There are two episodes of activity that took place in the hospital that are better off forgotten, but need mention only for the humour angle they provided. A day or so after the op, I was not yet mobile and still incapacitated by catheters, when I felt stirrings in my bowels. I really need to spare you the graphics here but seriously, has anyone ever succeeded with a bed-pan?? I mean, there I am, stuck on my back, hips raised impossibly high enough to fit the pan under the buttocks...stark naked and separated from my fellow ward-mates only by the ill-concealing curtain. During all this, a nurse enters intermittently, spraying toilet spray all over! Her head popped through the curtains every now and then with a "Are you doing ok Mr Clarke...?" Well, needless to say, I did not do ok and that episode led to another eight days of painful constipation!

One other morning I noticed some discomfort down in the 'Ganguly region'. I took a peek and snuck a feel, and nearly hit the roof. Forgive the graphics but my dingbat was coloured in bands of blue and purple bruising. Even worse was that my galoolies were swollen huge and also blue! Thinking that maybe they had inadvertently damaged me in surgery, I rang for the nurse and described things to her. She promised she would call the doc and relay my concerns. I heard nothing back all afternoon, until eventually a nurse came in and chucked me a small wrapped package. I opened it to discover my brand new, state of the art, trendy...scrotal support! It can only be described as a soft material-made pouch-piece, similar to a cricket box, but with elastic straps running around the legs and bum. The pouch is split longitudinally down the front, obviously meant for toilet breaks, but I found I kept peeping through and getting squeezed by the sides! It lasted half a day before being unceremoniously slung into the bin. You can't beat hanging free! Even as I write this, two weeks since the op, most of the blue bruising has dissipated. One galooly however is still very swollen and sore. Lee had a look and thought from the size and shape that it may be one of my original kidneys that has slipped down!

I finally got out of hospital on the Thursday, exactly one week (8 nights)from the op day. Any longer and I think I'd have gone nuts!