To Continue the hospital story #4

The first photo is my dad pretending to sleep in my Lazy Susan. The second photo is literally my first sip of juice after a month.

One thing that I hated the most during my time in ICU was having the ventilator down my throat to help me breathe. This was for several reasons. Firstly, with the ventilator in I could not talk so anything I communicate took a lot of strength which I did not have. Secondly, I could not drink or eat anything and felt thirsty constantly; yet when I dreamt of eating anything(which was often), I would wake up feeling very nauseous . This and nightmares made me scared of sleeping even though it was what I did most of the time. Thirdly, the nurses had to suction me a few times a day to remove all the flem from the tube and my lungs. This was especially horrible after they discovered the sepsis, because my abdomen had to be kept upon as they had to clean my abdomen every other day and could obviously not cut me open every other day and close me up again. So when the nurses would suction me, a thin pipe would be pushed through the ventilator tube down my throat and what felt to me like almost in my stomach and then remove any flem. I hated it so much as it felt like they were pulling my stomach out but it had to be done as I knew if they didn't do it I would struggle to breathe later.

After they initially discovered the sepsis on 16 Dec I had to go to theater every other day so that my abdomen can be cleaned. On the third time they took me to theater on 20 Dec the theater nurse who came out with me and was with me from the first operation on the 16th, told my parents that she had just witnessed a miracle. I only met her many days later as I was not conscious during the surgeries of course. This Theatre Scrub sister, Pilal, said that when they operated me the first time, my situation was so grim that she decided she will cancel her December holiday to see me through. She said she couldn't believe how clean my abdomen was on that day, the 20th December and that it was a miracle. She too was a Christian and assisted Dr. Motilal with all my operations. Eventually after by the 5th time that they cleaned my abdomen, it was done in the ICU ward room with the anesthesiologist and theatre nurses and ofcourse doctor Motilal. At times anything that was not part of the usual routine concernced me, like not going to theatre for an operation or when I was eventually moved out of ICU. Eventually the cleaning of the abdomen was done without me being sedated; I remember the first time VERY clearly. Dr. Motilal had gone on holiday for 4 days or so and in that time they had to clean my abdomen, BUT the doctor who was overseeing me in Dr. Motilal's place did not go the usual route.He just came in the morning, took the dressings off, with me a awake and "screaming"(in my head that is because ofcourse I couldn't speak) and he pulled out a gauze and dressing out of my abdomen!! I felt all my organs move and ofcourse saw them as I did not like not knowing when the pain was coming so I had to look. I did NOT like that doctor.

On 29 Dec I had my first sip of juice and jelly(photo above)!!! The day before I had finally come off the ventilator. Initally I was nervous that i would struggle to breathe and the fist day I had to really concentrate on my breathing but soon I got the hang of it agian.The Juice and jelly tasted heavenly; however, anything I ate and drank caused lots of flem so I could only take a sip or two and then I would've had enough and would cough a lot. Dr. Tilley also insisted that I should start sitting in a chair and eventually start walking. The nurses had to slide me onto a Lazy Susan with the sheets as I had no strentgh at all to even sit up. I hated sitting so much as it would tire me and would be sore on my pelvis. I remember the one day my mom and one of my best friends, Jo, came to visit me and I almost ignored them and kept asking for nurse Nomsa. I would call out "NOMSA" constantly begging her to take me back to the bed but she insisted that I sit atleast 3 hours. This was the most I had sat up to that point and in ICU where there are no TV's, this is a loooong time. Nomsa was this short petite black nurse who was on duty that day with me and was the most stubborn then as often the nurses would let me go back to the bed if I begged, but Nomsa did not budge.

On the 5th of Jan, Dr Motilal asked me "Are you religious?" He had obviously seen all the verses on the walls of my ICU room. I told him "No but I love Jesus". He then answered " O Because He has helped you alot". Dr Motilal is not a Christian. The reason I told him I am not "religious" is because "religion" is the exact thing that Christ saved me from. He died on the cross so that I no longer have to be "religious" and keep laws in order to have a relationship with God but that through Jesus I can enter God's throne of Grace.

SO eventually I had to start standing and walking again. The first day, 9 Jan, it took 3 physiotherapists to get me merely to stand up. This alone took all my strength and I felt very dizzy while just standing. I realised then what a process this will be, because if standing up is so difficult then how would i even walk on my own? By 18 Jan I could take a few steps and on that day specifically I took the most steps I had taken up to that point. There was a specific reason for this. The physio was a young blonde english guy called Wesley(yes I read his name tag and also saw that he had graduated from Stellenbosch last year as that was on his physio shirt). He was about my age or a little older and not at all bad looking. So that day I actually put more effort in than usual during my physio session, as he was the one infront of me when i walked. Unfortunately he was my physio only that one day as the next day they closed up my abodmen, finally, and I had no physio for about a week after the operation and skin grafts. I was also transferred out of ICU. But for the few days after the operation while I was still in ICU I would keep a watch out for this physio if he walked past my room and every time, he would wave. I should add that in hospital most people are old and all the nurses are ladies, so an attractive young goodlooking physio guy was a good motivation for therapy which I hated so much under usual circumstances.