The First Movement I have just walked up to the office and told the ten year old on duty that I wasn’t sure if they needed to know, but at 9.00pm, I had my first bowel movement since my operation and I concluded with the comment, “I thought you may be thrilled. I am.” She looked decidedly unthrilled, but if they don’t want to know, why do they keep asking? Good morning World, you are a beautiful place. I wrote those words at 5.00am; it is now 5.20 and a few things have happened that yesterday would have caused me to delete those words but taken as a hole, it’s a hole lot more gooderer* Last night was never going to be easy. The night before I had been given a pill to help me sleep but had woken up at 2.30, trying to pull the catheter from my nose and so I wasn’t too surprised when I was woken at 10pm to have the drips changed and being told I couldn’t have a tablet tonight. Sensitive souls may like to stop reading here. I’ll tell you when to come back. The problem is the catheter. I don’t like it. It goes down my nose and I can feel it constantly as it tickles the back of my throat making me cough and causing the catheter to tickle the back of my throat and so on. It is held in place by a strip of elastoplast and you know what happens to elastoplast when it gets wet and I sweat at night apparently on top of my nose, and anyway, what happens when I sneeze and how the hell do I blow my nose with this 6” (15cm) wide pipe up my hooter**. So by now, you’re either going “Eeeyeuuu” or you lack imagination or you wisely followed my instruction to stop reading earlier. Sensitive souls can continue from here. My problem was the bag collecting my bile. Oh sorry, perhaps that should have gone in the bit for sensitive souls to avoid. The catheter taking it from my stomach is not very long and whilst I am alright carrying it like an Oods voice box, (You really should have watched Doctor Who, you know) when I lie down it pulls my head to the right because it is lying flat on the floor (the bag, not my head, idiot). This morning, at 2.00am I had a quick flash of inspiration. I don’t use the wee bottle so I can use its holder for my bag. Moving it from one side of my bed to the other was a bit of a tow because I had to manoeuvre my Moses staff (keep up at the back). It’s not perfect but it holds the bag, and laying my head at a 45degree angle, for the first time I couldn’t feel the tube at the back of my throat and at 5.00am I awoke from a weird dream but with no pressure from my tube. At that time, the nurses came in to dress the wound of the guy next to me so I left the room, sneezed and the elastoplast gave up the ghost. Ok. Tube fixed and I’m ready to start. What happened to me is like an epoxy clips, an efipany if you like*** I don’t care about the tube anymore. It doesn’t control me anymore. Now Margaret will understand this bit; I think it may be coming off today, but if it doesn’t come off, it doesn’t matter but I can now have a full night’s sleep without being afraid I’ll gag or pull the bloody thing out again, basically I can perambulate down the hall singing Hallelujah at the top of my voice. In fact I’ll do that now. Okaaaay! Perhaps not a popular move at 6.10. oooops! For my Portuguese friends reading this, *“but over all things are much better” ** nose *** don’t bother trying to translate. It was good, okay It is now 7.54 and the students gather. I’ve just had a brilliant idea. I could write a piece for TV and set it in this ward. I could have Victor Meldrew as the doc and have James Bolam sing the intro, “I am H A P P Y, I am H A P P Y. I know I am, I’m sure I am I am H A P P Y. Any producers out there? I was thinking of an ironic title. Something like “Only When I Larf”. What do you think? In the last hour, I have discoursed at length with three earnest young students over the first movement, talking at great detail about pace, length and tone followed up with the enquiry as to whether I might like to repeat the experience. My improvement here is measured in bathing. The first bedbath by Marta was curious as was the second. My first shower up on this floor, aided by Rui was trying but worthwhile as the foley had gone. The shower yesterday was a solo effort and was fantastic but today I lingered and came out relaxed and feeling great. I went for a walk again but was called back by the lovely Tánia who asked if I wanted a bath. Damn! She then took my BP which was a bit high and told me I had to stay in my room because we were to be visited by the head honcho and lots of other important people. I asked if I could sing one of my songs to him and she said yes. I think she’s having a larf, herself. I have given her my Facebook page because whilst my humour(?) is intended as fun, I would hate to upset people and she has promised to warn me if I cause offence to any Portuguese people. The Brits can look after themselves. Right. I’ve just got emotional again. The lovely Dra Ana has told me they will disconnect the tube today and I can drink water. If I can do that without nausea or vomiting, they will remove the pipe tomorrow. Tánia has just changed my dressings and we discussed Portugal and Kain Pillars. But more importantly, we discussed London. She expressed an interest in visiting the capital at some time and I told her that it was a beautiful city where she could be ripped off with all sorts of tat but if she wanted a great holiday, she should visit Newcastle and then I got to thinking. Newcastle is more difficult to get to but if they made the effort and somebody could meet them at the airport, and show them the sights for a day, that would be a terrific intro to the North East. Come on BNI. Get back to me with your thoughts. So the person who does it may get nothing out of it or would they? What a contact if they decided to come over here? Or better yet, for no reason except it would be a really nice thing to do for an underpaid worker from a poor country who takes immense pride in doing a good job well. We still tell people here that our biggest delight over here is the people. It’s all happening now. I’ve had tea and I’ve had water and in two to three hours, I’ll have no tube up my nose. Unfortunately, Tánia came in while I was drinking. I turned and spluttered. She said, “Do you like the tea?” “It’s delightful,” I replied through the coughs. She said, “Are you joking?” I said, “Yes, I’m choking”.
Posted on: Mon, 17 Jun 2013 18:13:17 +0000
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