|
Part
23
"Pink Tubes, Broth, and Chinese Torture Devices"
As
I sit back and remember what it was like to spend half a week
in the hospital, all I can think of is…it sucks. Well, I
guess for some people it wouldn't be all that bad, but for someone
my age, and considering all of the various tubes I had plugged
into "various cavities", four days can seem like an
eternity.
I
was in a reclined hospital bed pretty much all day. I couldn't
lay flat on the bed because it would rip out all of my stitches.
That wasn't good because I have an easier time sleeping totally
flat. Since I was propped up it was hard to get comfortable. My
chest throbbed 24 hours a day. I would push "my little button"
every 5 minutes or so to relieve the pain. There was a TV in the
room, but it seemed like nothing good was on. The nurses would
come in every once in a while to see how I was doing. They would
take a x-ray of my chest every day. It was always a painful experience
to try and lift myself up.
As
I was in the hospital, several friends came to see me. I hope
they didn't expect me to be overly talkative because I was still
pretty drugged up. One day (I forget which day), two of my friends
from high school dropped by to see me. Ken and Cody. I remember
talking to them, but to tell you the truth, I don't remember one
thing they said. I do remember falling asleep a couple times as
they were talking. Kelly visited a couple of times as well. But
the people that I saw the most was my family. My parents, especially,
would be there to encourage me to "do different things"
(more on that later). One time, both my mom and my dad came into
the room to visit me. As they were talking my dad looked at me
and said, "look Terrie, he's starting to grow back his hair!".
They showed me my reflection in a mirror and sure enough, there
it was. You could start to see a little stubble growing on my
head and eyebrows. Things were starting to come back together!
The
hospital food was great! ...well...if you don't have any teeth.
You see, I had to dine on liquids for four straight days. I guess
they don't want you to "go number 2" while you're in
your bed. My meal (breakfast, lunch, and dinner) would consist
of tea (or coffee), chicken (or beef) broth, jello, and juice.
I would get this meal three times a day. Yummy! Man, could I hardly
wait to eat some real food when I got home. Since all I had to
eat was liquids, my bladder was constantly at work. Oh....so that's
what those "yellow tubes" were for.....
WARNING!!!
Alright gentleman, you might not want to read this paragraph.
Skip to the next one if you have a weak stomach.
Yes,
those "yellow tubes" were for my catheter. Of all the
mean Chinese torture techniques, this one is the worse. They would
drain my urine into a plastic bag that was connected to a tube
that lead up to my bladder. And guess where the only direct route
to my bladder is? You got it, straight into the eye of "Captain
Winkie". For the first couple of days I couldn't feel a thing
down there. My chest was my main concern. But after two days,
the doctors wanted to remove this horrible device from "my
device". It was time for me to pee on my own. One of the
nurses came in with a handy dandy "orange juice container"
in her hand. She sat by the sit on my bed, lifted up my blanket,
and got to work. Before she started, she warned me, "this
might feel kind of weird..." DO YOU THINK!?!?! I could feel
something coming out from up my stomach, through my schlong hole.
GEEZE, HOW MUCH TUBE DID THEY STICK IN THERE? Finally, the tube
flung out and splashed urine all over the nurse's lap. GOOD, SERVES
YOU RIGHT! Alright, now it was my turn. By that time I was already
starting to sit up in my bed. I sat on the edge of my bed, placed
my thingy in the "orange juice container" and let loose.
The only problem was that nothing came out. I tried again and
still no use. I whipped "my little friend" back in his
designated place and laid back down. The nurse came back in and
asked if anything came out. I told her no. She told me she would
leave the "orange juice container" there with me, and
if I had to go later, for me to try to go in it. Cool. Half a
day later, I felt like I was holding more pee than a camel. Surely
I could go now. I tried and yet again, nothing. Later that day
my friend Jesse came to see me. We talked for a while and he was
happy to see that I was OK. After talking with him for several
minutes, I felt the need to pee again. Jesse left the room for
a second and I tried my routine again. Still nothing. Do you know
the feeling you get when you have been driving in a car for 12
hours and you have to take a leak? Well, this kind of felt like
that, only I couldn't do anything about it. I had to go bad though!
I told one of the nurses that I had to go, but couldn't. Guess
what the solution was? Put the catheter back in! The nurse grabbed
the tube from the side of my bed and lifted up my blanket. Oh
crap, this was going to hurt! If any of you guys want to know
what this felt like, try sticking a fish pump tube up your "other
hole". Don't just stick a little in, stick about a foot in
(depending on the size of your wang) (they gave me 2 ½
inches) (just joking) (well...) (JUST JOKING!). I could feel her
trying to get it in just right, but I could sense something was
wrong. She kept taking it out and sticking it back in, over and
over. After a while she quit and called for another nurse. This
nurse was a guy, and this was his job. How would you like to tell
THAT to your buddies? "Yeah, I stick fish pump tubes up dudes
wang's all day". Tough job. Now normally there would be no
way that I would let a man play with "my main man",
but I knew that he would feel my pain. Actually, when this nurse
stuck it in, it didn't hurt all too bad. As soon as it reached
my bladder tons a pee started to run through the tube. Ahhh....what
a relief! Later the next day I tried peeing on my own. I stood
up, concentrated, and let it loose. "Pssssssssssss........."
YES! MOMMY, MOMMY!!! I PEED ON MY OWN! LOOK! Alright, step 2 was
done (before I could leave the hospital). I bet your asking yourselves,
"what happened to step 1?" Do you remember those "pink
tubes"?
Those
pink tubes were my drain tubes. They went up my stomach and to
my chest. They are there because after a surgery like this, it
is common for fluid to build up in your chest and lungs. These
tubes drain out all of the fluid. I couldn't really feel them
while they were in, but I sure did feel them coming out. A day
after my surgery, Dr. Froines came back to my room to remove the
tubes from my chest. He brought an extra nurse with him to give
him a hand. He told me it wouldn't really hurt; it would just
feel really weird. He grabbed both tubes with one hand, propped
his other hand on the side on the bed, and asked me, "are
you ready?" He started to pull, and I could feel the tubes
going down through my chest. It was a sensation I can't really
describe. I did make a funny noise that sounded like the noise
you would get if you squeezed a glob of Jello in between you hand.
I could feel the last of the tubes close to the holes, and all
of a sudden they flung out, spilling pink liquid all over the
floor. To tell you the truth, it was pretty cool.
The
last thing that I had to do before I could leave the hospital
was to relearn how to walk. It’s kind of weird knowing that
a 15 month old child can walk better than you can. I had to walk
though, not just to get out of the hospital be, but to get some
blood flowing in my legs. I had been laying down in that bed for
some time now, and most of my blood was circulating in my upper
body. If I didn’t get blood flowing in my legs soon, they
might have had to cut off my feet or something. I don’t need
that! My first step was to stand up. With some watching me, I
reclined my bed to an upright position and moved my legs to the
side of my bed. I could feel the stitches in my chest stretching
with each little movement. I had to suck it up though. I finally
managed to sit up on the side of my bed. I sat there for a while
until I gathered up some more strength. Next, I put my feet on
the cold hospital floor (with some assistance) and stood up. You
could feel the blood moving down to you legs as I just stood there.
After a few seconds my body tired and I had to sit back down.
I would repeat this process every couple of hours until I came
to the point where I could get up all by myself. My next step
was to try walking. At first I only walked a few feet, until I
got too tired to go any further, but eventually, I built up enough
endurance so I could walk all around the room. My final test was
to walk out of my room and down the hall. If I could do that,
I could go home. On my last day at the hospital, I got out of
my bed, walked to the door of my room, and started walking down
the hall. As I was walking I could see other people lying in there
hospital beds, and even though I felt bad for them, I couldn’t
help to feel rejoiced that I was walking. Later that day my parent
came to pick me up. They packed all of my stuff up and told the
nurses that I was leaving now. A nurse brought me a wheel chair
so I wouldn’t have to walk for a mile through all of the
Virginia Mason hallways. I sat in the chair and my dad took me
to the car. I was now on my way home with a big scar on my chest,
a siphoned bladder, and stubble on my eyebrows. That was OK, because
I was now CANCER FREE!!!
One more article to go!
NEXT
|
