Next Days at Hospital

The stomach is indeed not very smart. It was the last part of the body to wake up after a drug-induced sleep. I threw up most of the things I ate on the second day. The nurses gave me anti-vomit pills to take with the painkillers. They also gave me several kinds of laxatives. I normally love food, but even a whiff of food made me sick. This must be what it feels like when you're pregnant. Very sad. In the meantime, the bruises and swelling began. After fighting the pain for hours I gave up. That night I put on my most pathetic face and asked for morphine. The nice nurse who smelled like Body Shop’s White Musk injected some into my stomach. It worked wonderfully and I slept comfortably through the night.

There was no drama after that. I learned to raid the pantry for Arnotts biscuit to eat with my pain killers. It kept me from throwing up. The next night nurse was a young Asian guy. He looked a bit like Tuo Ming Se, with Hwa Ce Lei’s haircut. I guessed that he was from Thailand or the Phillipines. When I saw him I immediately thought of my dear friends back home who are big fans of F4 and I tried very hard not to grin too widely.

Days began to pass more quickly. I couldn’t wait to get the drain off. The good doctors visited me throughout the weekend. On Monday the nurse announced that the doctors said it was ok to go home. Yeeeiiy!! She would take the drain out soon. Yippie!! (Actually I was also a bit scared of the procedure.) She left and I watched TV absent-mindedly, and trying not to panic. I heard the nurses chatting outside my room.
“Can I watch? I’ve never taken a drain out…”
“Sure.”
When a nurse came half an hour later, I recognized her voice. She was the one who said “I’ve never taken a drain out..” and she came alone… That freaked me out a bit. I asked her where she was from. 'The Phillipines.' I told her she looked like an Indonesian. 'Many people said that.' Then I asked her if she had done this before. She was miffed.
“My dear, I have been a nurse for years!”
Ooops. But my dear, I heard what you said, with my own ears. What were you talking about, then?
“I’ll just cut the stitches here (snip) and here (snip)… Now take a deep breath. I will count to three and then I will pull it out.”
“I don’t like the sound of that…”
“I’ll give you some pain killers later if you need it.”
“OK. I’m ready.”
“One, two, three …” the tube came out, then the absorbent tape. It looked like a big, fat fettuccine. And about that long, too.
“Wow, that’s long …”
“I’ll put a bandage over it. Place your hand here … Yes. And put some pressure on it for five minutes. OK?”
Big sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

Waking Up

I couldn’t remember where I was when I first regain consciousness after the surgery. I’ve got an oxygen tube up my nose, an IV tube needle in my left forearm and a draining tube under my right arm. Despite all that, I felt quite comfortable. Must be the morphine that they pumped into me through the IV. It was very difficult to wake up. It felt like pushing a truck uphill. I kept drifting back to sleep, but I fought it. I know I had to wake up to prove that the anesthetic didn’t damage my brain.

It’s funny how people have the most irrational fears. Mine was of peeing into a bed pan. You can’t stand up a few hours immediately after a surgery so if you need to pee, you’ll have to do it in bed. The nurse would put a pan under your bottom and you’ll have to do it on your back like a roast turkey on a plate. I had to do it last year. It was one of the most humiliating experiences that I’ve ever had. So this time around, I prayed that I wouldn’t have to repeat it. It was mid afternoon when I first came to. I had a sip of drink, listened to the nurse while she checked my vital signs, and talked to my sis a bit. Then I went straight to sleep again.

It was hard to wake up, but it was impossible to really sleep. How strange… A part of my brain kept waking me up right before I really fell asleep. It’s another one of my irrational fears. My brain was subconsciously warning me that if I fell into deep sleep, I would never wake up again.

When I woke up again it was past midnight. I calculated the hours. Yep, the nurse might just let me get up and go to the bathroom by myself. I rang for the nurse. She said it’s ok and helped me up. She arranged all my tubes so I wouldn’t trip on them or pull them out by accident. I leaned on the IV pole and pushed it along to the bathroom. I peed in the bathroom. Strangely, I felt very proud of myself.

ME Day - Part Deux

I went outside into the bright sunny day. It was still two thirty. Too early to go home. A cake would be nice. I bought a slice of chocolate mud cake from Mitchel’s. A girl was giving away bottled tea near the station so I took one. I found a seat at the courtyard of St. Andrews cathedral and munched slowly. The cake was really, really sweet. It made me crave for something savoury. My eyes caught KFC across the street. Nooo… Bad food… I wasn’t even hungry. But then again, what the heck. It’s not like I have better things to do.

I went to KFC. The Indian girl who served me was very rude. I was quite annoyed. I finished my food and left as much garbage as I could as a tribute to the Gringe behind the counter. My ME Day had turned out to be rather disappointing.

As I left I suddenly remember that I had to buy some cartons for my lesson plan at the childcare center the next day. I headed for Dymocks. There were some homeless people in the streets. One was selling magazines, another was sitting across the street on a wooden crate. A piece of paper was stuck on a board in front of her, explaining who she was and what had happened to her. Another was a haggard looking bearded guy who was sitting with his back against the wall of a mega shop. I know it would be freezing at night so I felt sorry for those guys. I hoped they had a good place to shelter from the cold.

A man in a suit passed by and gave the old lady a five dollar note. Good on you, mate.

On my way home from Dymocks I passed those homeless folks again. I felt bad because just like the millions of people rushing around me, I didn’t help. I took some money from my coin purse. I know that if I bought a magazine from that guy, half would go to his pocket as his share of the sale. It wasn’t much, but at least I’m trying.
I smiled as I approached him. I took a magazine and was about to pay.

These AREN’T FREE, you know?! He snarled.

I gasped and showed him the money. He was so embarrassed. So was I. People were staring at us. He quickly apologized and gave me a lengthy explanation about his back. He had arthritis and only had two hours of sleep the night before. I assured him it was alright, paid him, and wished his back would get better. I walked away quickly and didn’t turn back. Even when I heard him cursing himself IDIOT! loudly.

NOW I’ve really had enough. I was desperate to come home. Before I reached the ticket gate at Town Hall I burst into tears. I retreated into a quiet corner and faced the wall and cried like an idiot. I stopped long enough to go through the gate and find my platform and sobbed again. I buried my face in tissue so people couldn’t see. Not that anybody cared. Only one middle aged guy looked long enough to show that he noticed I was upset. But that wasn't important. What's important is that I could finally cry. The anger, sadness, anxiety, fear, and helplessness that had been poisoning my system for days were slowly melted and were flushed away by the tears.

I cried a little bit more on the train, then felt calm and at peace with the world and with my health condition.
I never read that magazine. I put it in the Dymocks’ plastic bag and never took it out. Today it is still somewhere in the magazine stack.

ME Day - Part One

It was Thursday. On the same day next week, I’d be at the hospital, having my surgery. I felt depressed. Usually when I’m upset or depressed I just need a good cry and then I would feel all better. So far I had been depressed for days and weeks but the tears just wouldn't come. I had a lot of negative feelings inside – fear, anxiety, sadness, helplessness. I was desperate to get rid of them.

That day was my last day to be alone and to get away from school, work, everything. I decided to skip school and go to one of my favorite places in the world – Sydney Aquarium. Something about the sea creatures swimming gracefully in the gigantic tanks is so relaxing. It usually cheers me up.

I had an easy morning. No rush to do anything at all. To day is ME Day and I’m going to take my own sweet time. After lunch I took a train to Town Hall and walked to Darling Harbour. It was a nice sunny day in late autumn. I bought a ticket and walked inside the darkened halls. I revisited all my favorite sea creatures and some new ones. The seals were wonderful. I touched a baby Port Jackson shark. The skin felt rough, like sandpaper.

The underwater tunnel was crowded and noisy. I waited until the noisy group moved on then I walked slowly through the tunnel, and on to a glass room. It’s a fairytale world. The walls, ceiling and even floor were made from glass. It was dark and cool and nobody else was there. I sat down on the glass floor, put my face as close to the glass wall as possible, and watched the rays and sharks swimming like space ships around me. The UFO music in the background helped create the out-of-worldly atmosphere. I was miles away from the real world.

The wail of my cell-phone (Come On, Eileen) beamed me back to Earth.

Hello?
Hello. My name is …(not clear)…… MEGT. …….(not clear)…
(Somebody from my school? One of the managers? Wanting to talk to me about
my three week leave? Let me make sure …)
Mmmm. Sorry, who would you like to talk to again?
I’m looking for …(my name)…
Oh, this is her.
Good. Is this a bad time?
(Very bad. It’s my ME Day. Could you hear the UFO music in the background?)
No, that’s alright.
Right, Irish told me that bla..bla..bla…
Yes, I’m going to have a surgery next week, on May 31. The doctor said five to eight days at the hospital and then some rest at home. I’ll have the surgery here at … (Damn! I can’t remember the name of the hospital. Prince? Wales?) … at the New South Wales Private Hospital (or something like that). That (name) doesn’t sound right, does it?
That (situation) ‘s OK. Just make sure to bring a certificate from your doctor .. bla..bla..bla..
Thank you. Bye..

The glass room lost its magic. I moved on. Past the reefs there was a big glass wall that looked like a movie screen. I sat down on the steps in front of the glass screen. People posed in front of it and have their pictures taken. When they left it was quiet again and I could feel a tiny itsy-bitsy tears creeping down from the corner of my eye.

Excuse me, could you help me take a photo? A nice young woman asked pleasantly. She looked like a student. Maybe from another state.
Sure. (sniff…sniff..)
Just press here.
Here? (sniff..)
Yes. Thanks.
BLITZ.
Here you go. It that (photo) alright?
Yes. Thank you very much.
Your welcome (sniff).

I blew my nose. It’s time to get out of there.