3rd Time Unlucky

From the previous entry, I blogged bout how there was oozing of some brain fluid from my initial surgery wound. I called the doc and he said to see him the next day.

When I saw him, he took a look at the wound and immediately warded me in but this time into the govt sector of the hospital instead. This is solely for the reason that he can now clasify my case as as emergency and have the 'repair' surgery (that's what my surgeon termed it) done as soon as possible. Having it done in the private wing would have to wait. Odd.

Anyway, I was devastated when I knew I had to go through another surgery. Having to go through 2 operations in 3 weeks ain't funny. Well, so there I was sharing the room in the neuro science ward with five other patients. Visiting is limited here as you need a password to get into the ward. And te rest of the patients looked to be in much much worse condition than I was. The entire ward felt very sickly. Going further into the ward would lead you into the Intensive Care Unit. Don't look in if you've got a weak stomach. Patients in there are hooked up with so many equipments and tubes are dangling just about everywhere. Just looking at them made it so painful for me that goosebumps literally crawled on my skin.

Come evening time, my parents wanted to sneak me out from the hospital for dinner. So I got dressed and told the staff nurse that I'll just be in the cafeteria downstairs. Since she thought that I'd still be in the hospital building, she allowed. But we drove out to a nearby area ... Section 17, PJ to be exact. Halfway through dinner, a call from the hospital came on my mobile. They wanted me back in the ward cause the doctor will be coming to brief me on the surgery the next day. I had to come clean and told the nurse I was out. I got an earful from her but at least dinner was good. :)

When I got back 30 minutes later, the doc had already left and would only see me the next morning. Now there's this guy, an Indonesian occupying the bed beside me. He just wants ATTENTION. Every five minutes of so, he would call out for the nurse for something. ALL the nurses are so immensely fed up of him that they openly scold him in front of others. He would yell, wail, pretend crying ... you name it. If only I had an Uzi then, that'll make my day. Because he have a very strong Indonesian accent, most of the time, the nurses couldn't understand him and this would normally lead to an argument. And funny enough, he would call back for the same nurse later to apologize ... ARGHHHHHHH. I could seriuosly kill him and with pleasure too. He has a friend who is in the same ward (more critical). So a bunch of their mates would stay back 24 hours to take care mainly of that friend. And my 'neighbour' would always call for one of his mates to come over and help him with something, be it for a drink of water or a massage, etc. Oh and he's a bloody good pretender as well. He can move his limbs fine but when the nurses or doctor asked him to do it, he would wail in pain. During the night, I asked the nurse to draw the curtains between his bed and mine ... apparently that's a no-no for him too. He would cause a din till I relented and have the nurse undraw the curtains. Haih ... (deep breath).

Ok, enough bout this troublesome dude. Come round midnight, the M.O. came over and wanted to take some blood samples in preparation for the surgery the next day. Dr. Thani is a young looking Indian doctor, probably just fresh from graduation. The first thing she said was that she needed to draw my blood. The second thing she muttered was that she might have to poke me again if the first time wasn't successful. That got me worrying already but it's only fair that I gave her the benefit of a doubt. My mistake ... she took FOUR freakin' tries before she finaly managed to get the required blood samples. Seriously ... where's an Uzi when you need one.

Early next morning, I was wheeled into the operating theater. University Hospital have 16 of them and they're almost fully occupied most of the time. Once inside, after all the usual formality, they put me to sleep with some anasthesia. This time wasn't like the last surgery. This time, I was able to feel the effect. Firstly my vision became blurry but I wasn't prepared for what's next. My body began to feel intense pain all over. The muscles spasmed. I could only muttered the word 'pain' but no answer came. Soon after I couldn't breathe. I tried inhaling but nothing happened ... my lungs weren't functioning but I was still concious. Panic striked in but it was a couple of seconds more before I dozed off. Could this be a similar feeling to a person suffering from cramps and then drown??? It was truly terrifying.

Surgery was over before the two hours mark passed. They wheeled me back to the ward without informing my parents who were waiting outside. When my parents went to check with the attendant, he said I was still inside the theater. A staff nurse only informed my parents an hour later.

I was suprisingly feeling much better compared to the previous surgery. I had some energy and no nausea or headache's this time. No catiter and no IV drip. I slept through the afternoon and come dinner time, I had a full dinner of porridge and fruits. Couldn't sleep much cause my 'neighbour' was putting on another one of his shows.

The next night, I was awoken at bout 1 am and was told I would be transferred to another ward as more chronic patients needed my bed space. So I was given a bed in the oftalmology (eye) ward. This time around, I shared a room with another elderly pakcik who's suffering from an ulcer in his intestine. All was good except that this pakcik had problems with flushing after using the toilet. Haih ... can't complain la especially after what I experienced from the ward before this. And then I discovered that pakcik has an Uzi stuck up his backside and had no qualms firing at anytime or anywhere. His FARTS and long and sounded wet. YUCKKKKKKKSSS. Probably due to his intestine problem ??? Yes??? No??? He did apologize for it but ... sigh.

Anyway, we do get patients coming in from the outside ward to use the toilet in my ward. One elderly dude wuth an eye patch actually came to stand beside my bed late one night and I had to shoo him away gently. Gave me a fright I tell ya.

Nothing else in particular happened. By Friday afternoon, I was discharged and gladly made my way home. I'm really praying that this will be the last complication. The mention of being warded into the hospital again scares me till no end.

I've also learned to appreciate the little things around me more. The sheer ability to function normaly and to do the things you do daily should never be taken for granted. Know that the people around you are the real treasures in our lives. It's just sad that it took so much for me to realize it. Better late than never I hope. Hence, the video above ... cherish every li'll moment there is for you just might never know.

P.S. This time, I spent Chap Goh Meh in the hospital. :( Anyone threw or caught any oranges???