Intensive Care

Intensive care is one of the most incredible places to be. Obviously it's not somewhere you would electively request to go, but as far as being in hospital goes, they are amazing units. 

I spent 5 days in intensive care (partly because there was no space for me on the recovery ward) and whilst those days are rather fuzzy for me, I do remember how high tech everything was. I was hooked up to lines that fed me, gave me fluids and made sure that my glucose and insulin were balanced. I also had my pain relief. This was a drug called fentanyl. This was administered as a continuous dose with an additional PCA - patient controlled analgesia. I was given a button to press each time I felt that I needed some pain relief. 

At the heart of all this incredible high tech equipment were the staff. It takes a special kind of nurse to work in intensive care. I must have been a relatively straight forward patient to look after. My surgery although major, was essentially elective and takes place on a fairly regular basis. I had no complications with my surgery and I was generally lucid during my recovery. However, I could barely move and could do very little for myself. The nurses who looked after me were the most caring and patient people I have come across. I remember not being able to properly ask for things and often gestured for things like water and for my lips to be looked after as they were unbelievably dry. The nurses also had to wash me and keep me moving. Above all of that, they had to put up with my inane ramblings and keep me company. Every single one of the nurses on the intensive care ward gave an absolute 5 star service and I have never felt so well looked after. 

My first full day in intensive care was, according to mum's notes, a bit of a painful one. The PCA was a godsend. I also had a visit from a very good friend who came in with the most adorable card...

As a crazy dog person, this is just the card I needed!

We had a good long chat and I think I thoroughly enjoyed our catch up but I honestly cannot remember anything I said. All I remember is that we sat together and had a really good chat. I think I also recorded a message for Abi on this day but my memory is very fuzzy!

Day 3 (October 31st) was apparently more of a painful day. In some respects, I'm thankful that I can no longer remember the pain that I was in but in others, I wish I could so that I could try and convey the full experience. I remember that there was an awful lot of pain but I can no longer recall where it was or liken it to anything which is really frustrating. 

I did have a visit from my lovely cousin Hannah on this day. We had a good long talk about her time in Hong Kong and how her course in tropical diseases was going. Mum, Dad and Caius were also with me nearly all of the time and by this time I was beginning to pick up on some kind of routine that visitors had to do. Before coming in, they had to wash their hands and put on a plastic apron to prevent infections being spread. 

I started to drink small amounts on Saturday but still wasn't eating and had no desire to. This is unheard of for me. Bear in mind that my last meal had been on Wednesday night and it was now Saturday! Food has always been important for me - mainly because before the transplant, it had so much of an effect on me. Eating the wrong things had often put me in hospital and with diabetes I had to try to keep control of my diet. I also like to keep as healthy as possible through eating the right things. As well as that, the dose of steroids I had been on had an impact on how much I wanted to eat!

This, I believe, was also 'cheese and prunes' day. As a bit of a Michael McIntyre fan, I always crack up at his 'cheese/ prune' sketch and if you haven't seen it, I suggest you take a look - it's from the 2012 'Showtime' show. To give you an idea, here are my 'Cheese' and 'Prune' faces:

CHEESE!

PRUUUNES

Day 4 (November 1st) was another painful day. I think this was the day when I was moved into a semi private room in intensive care. The pain was causing me to cry out quite a lot and this was possibly disturbing to other patients. I think it was on this day that I was surrounded by doctors, probably about 5 or 6 in the room talking about how they were going to proceed with my care. I remember being in agony; whimpering and calling out, not making any sense. Most of the doctors were talking and seemingly oblivious to the fact that I was in pain. At this point, I remember one of the younger members of the team stopping everything to say that before anything else could happen, they needed to get my pain under control. This was one of the first times that I felt as though the doctors were doing something that would help. Before this, they had generally been poking and prodding and to me, it seemed as though they were doing more harm than good! I have never thanked anyone as sincerely as I thanked that doctor. Finally, it seemed as though someone was on my side and that they were going to do something about the pain. 

I remember the nurse on this day. She was amazingly reassuring and when I didn't have visitors in, she was by my side holding my hand and reassuring me that every patient went through a really bad day before they started to improve. At the same time, she was also firm and ensured that I was working hard to get myself better. This included trying to cough which was absolute agony!

The other small problem I was facing was poo. Or lack of. I had had no bowel movement at all since before surgery. Apparently they don't like to send post-op patients to the recovery ward without some evidence of bowels waking up. After such major surgery with large quantities of anaesthetic and considerable nerve damage, doctors like to make sure the body is waking up again but it seemed that mine was being a bit slow! 

One of the other things I noticed around this time was my smell. I felt like I absolutely reeked and my breath and mouth felt disgusting. I was given another bed wash and had my gown changed which feels more lovely than I would have imagined. I was also given a mouthwash which was not so pleasant. The nurses used these sort of lollipop sponges to dampen my mouth when I wasn't drinking and also soaked them in corsodyl to clean my mouth. If you have ever used this stuff as a mouthwash, you will be fully aware how disgusting it is! I was reassured by those around me that I didn't stink but have to say, I still remember feeling horrible even after being cleaned up by the wonderful nurses. Again, they are not paid enough for what they have to do!

Keep Smiling :)