Le Wulf, I.B.D. hospitals and Stomas/after hospital (WIP)

  • Q Rich
    Q Rich
    Unicorn Overlord
    Joined May 2010 Posts: 37,026
    Le Wulf said:

    I can have the remainder removed the downside is it is not reversible the plus side is no flare ups as nothing there to flare up. Who knows if in the future theyre maybe something else comes along that works and needs that part to work again so although I may opt for this my two concerns are : do I really want another operation? and what if there is an alternative treatment in la future?

    hmm, with Crohn's specifically is can affect any where from mouth to ****. 

    and for anyone that has never taken iron tablets, black is color you will become accustomed to.
    Please do not contact me directly by Chat or via posts on my profile page. If I cannot deal with it on the forums, it should be taken straight to Support.
  • Le Wulf
    Le Wulf
    Unicorn Overlord
    Joined Jan 2012 Posts: 6,063
    Q Rich said:
    Le Wulf said:

    I can have the remainder removed the downside is it is not reversible the plus side is no flare ups as nothing there to flare up. Who knows if in the future theyre maybe something else comes along that works and needs that part to work again so although I may opt for this my two concerns are : do I really want another operation? and what if there is an alternative treatment in la future?

    hmm, with Crohn's specifically is can affect any where from mouth to ****. 

    and for anyone that has never taken iron tablets, black is color you will become accustomed to.

    I am very glad I do not have Crohns sounds very dicey.

    Hmm wonder if I can get Guinness on prescription ;)

  • Le Wulf
    Le Wulf
    Unicorn Overlord
    Joined Jan 2012 Posts: 6,063
    edited 4 Jun 2015, 9:18AM

    Dear Diary,

    Today I am confused.
    I was not curious at all, but now I feel as if I should have been.
    Perhaps I should have danced to the Village people more and this would have seemed more natural...

    I awoke happy enough in my own little way.
    The sun was out.
    I went to the front room (which happens to be at the back of the house - maybe the room being a bit round the back has something to do with this, I don't know)
    The Sun's rays came through the window and I allowed my dressing gown to fall off me while i bathed in the morning's untouched rays.

    I was happy, at least for a short while...

    Right now, several hours later I have somehow managed to come to terms with what happened.

    I remember many years ago a similar feeling of 'why would that happen?' or 'who would want to do such a thing?'
    Do you remember the first time you saw Bambi in the cinema?

    I do

    I remember watching a nice cartoon sat amongst my parents and the little deer is going to go to the meadow.
    Well we all know what happened to his mother and the feeling of "why?!?!" and the complete confusion as to what sense is this bringing me to an execution of such a cute animal.

    Then I also remember another time I went to the cinema and again I was forced to ask the question "why!!!!" poor little Symba with his Lord Vader voiced father no longer able to guide him.
    I am sure my dear diary you too recall the horror while it happened and the confusion afterwards as to why would Disney choose to emotionally scar us like this for the rest of our lives.

    I was happy when I woke up,
    I was at peace with myself and the world around me.
    Then this happened....

    Rectal enemas are no laughing matter!

    The Jolly Rogerer
     (formerly known as Le Wulf)


    It was an experience to say the least, think i should have done some research as to what exactly these things were. I had a vague idea of course, but "vague" is very much being the operative word.
    If anyone has to go through one of those then prepare yourself!

    The instructions clearly state how things are done, and considering you get leaflets listing all the nasty things that can possibly happen when you take a normal iron pill , one would expect some kind of warning in the documentation that came with these new meds of steroids.

    The instructions make everything seem quite easy and no fuss to it....WRONG! DO NOT BE FOOLED!
    The instructions are there to make you feel as if everything is going to be normal and actually quite natural. With a slight little suggestion maybe a bit of jelly will help the process - this should have been when I was to get concerned as to what might happen because after all where am I supposed to get jelly at 04:45 am?
    I personally believe the person responsible for writing the leaflet had the same kind of sick twisted sense of humour that the creators of Watership Down had, on how to lull people of all ages into a false sense of security and then BAM! they take all your innocence away JUST LIKE THAT!

    So the instructions say stick the disposable nozzle up your jack seat as it is attached to the canister (now one was slightly concerned to see I got a pressurized can for medication especially for going 'up there'), the canister must be pointed down. Now when you got the thing pointing down and the button in right place one does feel a slight smugness at being able to follow these instructions and that means so far so good...

    Then comes the first complication trying to get it 'up there', I would imagine that naturally I would know exactly where 'up there' would be...

    I was wrong, apparently wiping one's backside for decades does not get one an exact instinct on the exact location when it comes to nozzles and pressurized cans.
     After several minutes of poking about the nozzle finally found where it was meant to go, and getting it 'up there' is no easy task. I have a new found of respect for males who conoodle with eachother in a certain way after I experienced trying to get the nozzle 'up there'.

    So the first part is done and I can safely say that is the hardest part out of the way.
    I am feeling plenty pleased with myself on achieving this.
    The next stage is to press the button, so I did....

    and nothing happened!
    I was expecting something to come out and it did not.
     Maybe then I got to wait a few seconds for something to happen...
    it did not.
    Oh great isnt it wonderful I got a faulty canister!

    So giving bit of a huff I released my finger from the button....



    It was like lightening had just shot up my backside!
    I actually jumped into the air (I was in a standing position as advised by the leaflet).
    Now the following moments I cannot actually recall but I do recall running to le bog at great speed shortly after with a very odd and very unnatural feeling from ones bowels.
    I felt somewhat safer once i had sat down to do my 'business'.

    The odd feeling passed soon enough and I physically I was fine, I managed to walk about a bit afterwards and after getting my breathing back to normal I sat down to watch some Television. Emotionally though I was (and still not) 'quite right' .

    but then people been saying similar things since Sunday School, ever since i mentioned I would have liked to have been one of the Romans whipping Christ they had not been quite as friendly as they had been before there, please note allowing children to watch a Clockwork Orange especially those who have yet to leave first school is not advisable (I thought I was joining in on the conversation, how was I supposed to know the Romans were the subjectively perceived bad guys) not that I think such things now mind, I am a big fan of Jesus, I take much inspiration from him, not in the being nice to everyone sort of way but I do like his FK You! attitude to anyone in a place of authority. Probably one of the greatest revolutionaires in the history of mankind; Bill and Ted come a close second) --yes I really did say that and at the time did not quite 'get it'--

    In my part of the world there is teleshopping, and strangely enough I find those commercials rather entertaining in the early hours of the day. To get my composure back I flicked onto one and it happened to be an exercise one, apparently the insanity work out was not as good as this new release of DVDs this new set called the T25 is much better somehow and it had lots of people stating so. Usually I nod my head and think hmm very interesting while i sip my cup of tea.
    Such was my emotional turmoil though that not even the enthusiastic big guy on screen could get me back to normal (maybe it was because he spoke in a slightly effeminate way).
    I was reduced to flicking through the channels and settling with 'Jeremy Kyle chat show : "am I the father of my step sister's baby" ' hmm interesting viewing indeed.

    So there you go, if you ever have to have one of those things be prepared (pressurised can up the backside that is, not sex with your step sister) :
    Do it in the bathroom
    It is foam
    There seems to be lots of it - although you dont see much of it
    Just because one button press = one dosage, does not mean it is an easily managable dosage - I am apparently 6 ft 2 so shorter people be aware! (i think i must have grown a bit in hospital :s )
    Lubricants maybe of assistance - but if you have that handy for such areas I doubt you will have much problem with the small nozzle.
    It feels like elctricity when you depress the button
    Sit down very quickly on le bog.


    ps :
    I am already looking forward to tomorrow morning.

  • Q Rich
    Q Rich
    Unicorn Overlord
    Joined May 2010 Posts: 37,026
    you have to do that daily? how long for? 

    My first enema was long enough ago to have been the old bucket and water job. This was in hospital before a colonoscopy and I pity those that have to clean the toilets... I know how i feel after subsequent ones (I now refuse them).
    Please do not contact me directly by Chat or via posts on my profile page. If I cannot deal with it on the forums, it should be taken straight to Support.
  • Le Wulf
    Le Wulf
    Unicorn Overlord
    Joined Jan 2012 Posts: 6,063
    edited 4 Jun 2015, 12:59PM

    A week, once a day. I got to take 2 tabs (10 mg) of the steroids I was taking orally a couple of days with the new meds and then its just the new meds.

    But I got quite a large prescription so think the Doc suspects it could be a regular thing maybe.

    Edit : the new meds with the can is 20 mgs.

  • Q Rich
    Q Rich
    Unicorn Overlord
    Joined May 2010 Posts: 37,026
    edited 5 Jun 2015, 7:04AM
    Well at least it is only a week, though that is 7 days to long...
    Please do not contact me directly by Chat or via posts on my profile page. If I cannot deal with it on the forums, it should be taken straight to Support.
  • Le Wulf
    Le Wulf
    Unicorn Overlord
    Joined Jan 2012 Posts: 6,063
    It certainly was easier and less dramatic the second time I done it, so heres hoping the rest of the doses are as unexciting as todays lol
  • Le Wulf
    Le Wulf
    Unicorn Overlord
    Joined Jan 2012 Posts: 6,063
    Update :
    First with the flair up where i had to take the new meds....it turned out i had to do two weeks worth daily, but that did not work. Left it a week or so and nothing improved so rang the specialist surgeon and both them and there secretary werent there (on holiday) but the replacement said take the course again so nearing the end of the second wave of meds. Just before i was taking the second wave movements had been increasing which was concerning i don't know if it was serious but now doing second wave of them its gone back to as it was before.

    Got a meeting with a medical specialist i was with before. It is a routine appointment and will bring this up and hope he has something more powerful - i really don't want to find out i got to have another operation.

    Had a shave (I often go through Howard Marks type of changes with hair and beards/moustaches) and wow i look different. My partner says I look like me in my photos from early twenties. It was quite a shock when i looked in the mirror, i look the same but look different (least to me I do).
    In the context of before this year of comparing myself now and before this years start.

    Last time i wieghed myself in le buff was couple days ago and that was 12.7 stone / 80 kg. This is often what i referred to as my 'fighting weight' meaning before this year when i was that weight i was in good condition solid muscle and good to get on with anything needing to be done. My endurance now though just does not exist.

    This part I have been meaning to get on with for some time now but as i am still rebuilding it would have been more of a diary if i had been able to access a system daily. Which is what this bit is about, the physical stuff i suppose.

    The hot weather can literally strip me of all strength when walking outside. My natural drive / engine will keep going and i have found myself relying on that a number of times. Now I do not leave the house without taking a solution of sugar and salt water (about 1 teaspoon of salt and 5- 8 of sugar per litre) and something to eat.
    Before this year i could do something very physical an unless i injured myself would be fine the next day no matter how hard i pushed myself. Now it can leave me feeling a bit drained a couple of days. And with the stoma the output turns to liquid which drains me further. So I have to make sur ei am very hydrated  now and with plenty of sugar and salt.

    The tell tale signs that i'm about to smacked is the usual natural sweating people do. When I start weating i then know to pull back a couple of gears (I walk more or less everywhere and at times forget my condition and start yomping/striding/power walking. Taking deep breaths and slowing things down. It goes against my grain as i conditioned myself that when i start to slow down or get a bit tired, i kickstart into another gear and push myself harder and before this that was very useful especially when 'fighting fit' as i could go on for quite some time at a very good pace. Now to do such a thing would be very counter productive/damaging for awhile.

    The next stage is natural tunnel vision, i would quite happily engage the aggressive side to supplement any slowness in myself and this creates in males the 'tunnel vision' affect albeit in a very limited context for just walking / getting the task done. When I notice i am getting that now then i know okies time to take a breather get some more fluids and maybe take a rest (pending where i am to home/objective).

    If I ignore the above and keep going then my vision suffers a bit, not sure how to explain it but things are not quite as clear, my body slows right down no matter how much i try to push myself it simply will not go any faster, and i will see people just casually walking and me pushing myself might be able to match there speed at best - where as before this year my natural walk was very fast comparing to others. By now it can get very uncomfortable and i get fatigued.

    When I get home I would be very tired and the body just is wanting something to burn up and my 'output' is liquid constantly. And it takes time sometimes a couple of days for everything to stabilize. - the output is very important, something that really peeved me off constantly being reminded of when in hospital.

    Above i mentioned about not accessing a system daily, this is because the heat has been quite intense and to go there would have been quite fatiguing so i left it awhile. The Summer heat is something not to be underestimated in this condition. - it actually knocked my confidence a bit for a short while.

    If I am using my walking stick i can do a lot more, i can walk faster too i dig it into the ground and give myself bit of an extra push. My stomach muscles certainly notice the difference when i am using the walking stick. If I don't use it then they can ache where as when i do use it they don't. I use the walking stick far less now because i do not want to become dependent on it both physically and psychologically.

    The physio at the hospital during my stay there was adamant in a nice way that he did not think i needed a stick or zimmer frame - he was talking a lot of bollocks. I often thought Physio therapists were highly specialized citizens who took everything into consideration when it came to treatment....Nah (in my experience). I actually found a nurse called Niko (dont know how to spell it) who was looking after me in the HDU (High dependencey Unit after surgery) was of more use than the physios they sent to plague me.  Niko was understanding and he knew how far i could push myself, and he also understood how weak i was.

    First couple of Physios they sent, thought telling me to relax and breathe while shouting in my ear both at the same time acting in my view like a couple of school children given a simple task (or just watch an episode of The Apprentice when they get excited and you get the idea). I was 'happy' to sit up and get my legs over the edge of the bed which was quite an achievement and then to stand up and edge slightly across it and back again. I was not happy at being shouted at by a couple of excitable munchkins constantly. I actually enjoyed being drilled in a disciplinary than what those munchkins did.
    Part of the problem was they saw me as very weak (which I was and still am) what they didn't see was the person I am/was. The martial artist, the guy who pushed his limits in work, the guy who could quiten a rowdy group of chaps by just walking through them. These physios and to some extent i think some of the nurses who do not know what its like to have your entire body destroyed and to walk a few paces as an achievement of sorts saw me as some kind of ****. (and at that point after surgery simply rolling over onto ones side was quite something). to give an idea of my determination I saw going to the doctors as a sort of surrender an admission of defeat to some extent that my body nor my will could fix what was wrong with me. And to get to that point i was a walking skeleton who found walking a serious struggle and my blood was not natural blood it was near treacle. To make me admit defeat or to be defeated i have to be **** near destroyed...and i was.

    The physios seem to work on a quota it felt. And even when i explained to them later on when on the main ward that my problem is i will keep pushing myself, I will do everything that is asked of me but take note i will likely push myself too hard. they accepted that and ignored it. So if you ever have to use physios keep in mind they do have a job to do and they do have to push you, but be sure to know your limits because otherwise it can be very counter productive.
    I found going back to basics and wracking my brains of what i learned in early days of martial training on how to build up the body was very helpful, more than what any physios said or did. - it might come across i dont like them but that isnt true they are nice people.

    Time for a drink and will reread this and think i wrote about something out of place as to what i intended to write about - i often do that as you may have noticed.
  • Le Wulf
    Le Wulf
    Unicorn Overlord
    Joined Jan 2012 Posts: 6,063
    As is obvious everything is written in first draft form and as i keep saying 'one day "soon" ' I will get on with tidying it all up and sorting it all out coherently.

    Here in this post and the one above i will try to talk on the physical side of things, the rebuilding of the body.

    It is unlikely a person will get themselves into as much of a state as I did before using their brains and getting it sorted, especially if those individuals have read this and have seen how the body can and will degenerate if not treated in a timely fashion.

    Again one will repeat you get any symptons like ones i mentioned ie blood, mucusy stuff, diarhea lasting longer than few days, needing to go the latrine a lot more than usual longer than a few days, get yourself to the docs sharpish. If the receptionist asks is it an emergency say 'yes' otherwise they may just stick you for an appointment a month down the line - which is no good considering timing can be very important to recovery and the treatments available.

    Somethng they will ask about blood is if its new, bright red means its new blood darker red means not so new, if not sure just describe it to them.

    The following may have parts repeated, if so my apologies trying to get the notes down into various subjects and then to make it easier to read for people. This one is on the rebuilding physically.

    My body was on its last legs, walking was difficult and there was next to nothing left on my bones of me. The rebuilding has taken some time and even now although i look strong again I am not fully recovered physcially. It takes time and patience with yourself. Do not despair if things seem to take too long for your liking. You will get there to a manageable level soon enough with the right treatment of yourself.

    Getting to the doctors which for me should have been ten to fifteen minute casual walk, turned into bit of a physcial drain the time it took was only 15 to twenty minutes but i was much more tired unable to walk briskly and fully upright. More like a drunkard putting one foot in front of the other.

    Getting to the hospital for the blood test from the doctors was a test of endurance despite in the past it being not very far for me. Thankfully when i asked at the hospital how to get to the blood place they gave very handy directions which were not lenghty think it was something like follow the signs for such and wing and just before the cafeteria go up the stairs.
    The stairs were bit of a task but got to the top easily enough (later on after surgery the stairs were a real struggle but they didn't beat me).
    There was quite a wait to get the blood tests done but could have been a lot worse. Standing up when I was called and walking over initially was fine was bit concerned navigating past people and various baggage obstacles ie might bump into something/may fall/trip etc but cleared the waiting area ok. When I got to the room (probable about 10 to 30 metres max distance from chair i was sitting on) I  wavered the blood drained from my head and think i grabbed onto a wall or filing cabinet to keep myself from crashing down.
    They helped me and were understanding. Getting my coat on and off was hard work and I remember the feeling of relief as they helped me with my coat back on after the blood was taken. it was one of those rare moments that I actually felt humanity had some kind of hope left in it - no offence but lets face it majority of it is selfish and ignorant to its actual needs; least of this current globalised civilisation we are a part of.

    Getting home was hard work, one foot in front of the other again and feeling wavery / exausted a plenty. Had to sit down two or three times, which was not very comfortable in one way as very little 'padding' on me to sit down on hard surfaces.
    (later on after leaving the hospital fully I got into a bath and was in agony due to how hard the surfacace was but fixed it by getting a small towel folding it and using it as a cushion for my backside/bottom of spine - to which that bath became very nice and welcome, I actually felt inside myself stronger but that is much later on).
    I dont remember much at this moment of writing of what happened in the few days of the blood results and when i got to the docs on the Friday he got me on waiting list to see the surgical team (She was wonderful I shall now say, if you have read earlier posts she is mentioned).
    By now when i got to that appointment at hospital I was **** near done for. Could not stand up long enough to brush my teeth, had to sit down and brush them with a plastic bowl in another room. Walking was very difficult, getting into the car was hard. Even waving and saying hello to the neighbours was harsh, tried to look sharp but didn't work out that way, still looked very weak and ill.
    Could not process the conversations too well in the car, very hard to think straight, think i was probably a bit impolite to my mum as I was trying to get my bearings.

    Walking to the waiting room and sitting down was very cold. I had my thermal t shirt on, probably a polo shirt as well my body warmer (padded and very handy) and a decent coat. All zipped up with collar folded up to keep the warmth in. Still was not warm and in usual fashion by then breathed into it to get some warmth in there. I found closing my eyes and sort of sleeping helped for comfort and we also moved into the other section of the waiting room so when they called me i was nearer the entrance to that specific area.

    Writing this now and in the shape I am now compared to then just made me shiver with a cold thing running down my back - I hate that feeling I think its a sympton of fear. The sun right now is shining through the curtains, making the room very warm, partner is playing on the old ps2, I have had two coffees and a breakfast burger, around the time I am writing about = a coffee alone would have sent me running to the latrine and feeling not too groovy. Frak the 'old' me from last year would have said 'put me down for the love of frak!' if I had known what was to happen.

    All this has been mentioned before i think but to put into context for the rebuilding i thought it was relevant, will edit/make a 'proper' version eventually. It is easier seeing it on the forum first hand for clarity. Different colours and presentations of different platforms show certain things differently. right now for this post i am writing in wordpad. If it bores anyone my apologies, read Le Wulf memoires or go hit insector to pass the time more productively :p

    So to speed up this bit : got into the Surgeons office, could hardly keep my head up or really get much of what was going on, my engine pretty much dealt with the talking stuff so my active mind could kind of drift a bit and not have to focus too much.
    Result of that appointment i was admitted straight into the hospital for staying in.

    Today i mention the 'engine' a couple of times, hard to explain but as simple as i can put it, its an engine that will chug away and keep me going while I maybe injured and in pain the engine i can rely on to keep me going and overcome. If fully healthy the engine can roar into action and give me a real drive to push my body hard and get the natural chemicals working to get the objective ready salted.
    Not much can stop the engine even if I want to slouch off it will keep pumping. Great for training and getting into the 'zone' of what seemed near limitless energy - it works different now but its still there.

    So if you get that bad of a physical shape, keep in mind your body has millions of years of surviving and fighting to stay alive. What makes the human body survived The Ice Age and all consequent wars, famines, plagues, and time has forged it into a beast for survival - and for those it has not, read the Darwin awards.

    Do not despair the human body will rebuild itself if given the oppurtunity to do so.

    My rebuild began very quickly when in the hospital.
    Was given steroids orally which mean rather than just go after the affected area they are also absorbed into the greater body - whch makes you feel great. It was obvious when I was on them because I would talk about multiple things at once and boom my voice naturally. very much how i spoke and was in my early 20s, makes sense now i was probably more testosterone than blood back then.
    Fortisips/Fortijuice helped my body no end, I could keep it 'in me' and I really liked them. a lot of people don't like them, but I would rather have them than have the alternative (a thing going through your nose while you slept to feed you - it was suggested i get one of those and i asked why cant i just drink it, so they prescribed me...even more Fortis!
    I practiclly jumped up and down on the bed everytime a nurse came in with a forti.

    All this was before surgery, and given the food three times a day, the steroids, the supplement in tablet form, the anti biotics, the paracetamol, and who knows what else in tablets, along with the fortis physically i was getting on some kind of stability (a very ropey kind of stability) but it was a platform for which to start recovering from.

    I was very anaemic ie could not produce red blood cells very well, my white blood cell count was sky high and another reading which scored a ton of stuff they check was as always something in the 130 mark (where it should be around 5 at most - i never quite understood it which given my lack of mental reasoning at that time i do not find very surprising). The window to the room was always closed (they put me in isolation as classified 'infected' due to diarrhea/blood).
    Also had drips put in me some was saline solution (i think thats how it is spelled a salt water thing) which takes a ton of hours to drain and had quite a number of them attached to me thankfully was able to get rid of them completely eventually. Had magnesium and potassium drips stuck into me which although very good were very inconvenient.

    The drips come onto these hat stand type of things and when you got to go to the latrine very quickly it can get in the way of things. Especially when showing too all the bits they stick in you can be intrusive. I really liked the hsopital showers big **** especially if your in 'isolation' you can make a steam room if you want... one took full advantage of that side effect of them :p

    Then came the Drips of Blood....

    Now this may seem a bit advanced for current human progress, but I always thought for past x amount of years there was something like True Blood (a type of synthetic blood for vampires in the show True Blood, totally kick **** i highly recomend the box sets with the added extras like political broadcasts and more 'church of light' propaganda stuff).
    I often had bit of a clash of morality in ones mind about whether it is ok to transfr actual blood from one person to another. I suppose if its taken willingly thats ok.

    The younger version of me generally believed if you were ill you should be allowed to die with dignity and not have such a fuss made about such things. - He was a very kind hearted person just a little fanatical about man's right to the universe and survival of the fittest. I still have 'controversial' views on certain things in the medical world but not as much as I used to during my 'prime'. - maybe its because i'm a lot weaker now who knows but the much younger me would have probably done the future me a favour (in his view at least) by throwing me off a cliff or sticking me in the middle east in old Crusader armour and a sign similar to Bruce's in Die Hard with a Vengeance.

    I quickly was told there was no synthetic blood and I would have real blood put into me. to which I was sort of creeped out about.
    But ****!
    Being without a full body of blood so long I had forgotten what 'normal' amounts had felt like (due to it going down the toilet a lot and body not able to produce enough for its normal self let alone to replace what was being lost).
    As that blood pumped into me I was feeling better and better. It takes some time unlike the magneium ones which are over in couple hours or so. But with each passing moment I felt stronger and that bit better.
    It is hard to describe such a feeling but if you take the episode of The Simpsons where Mr Burns gets a blood transfusion and you see him draining it and getting stronger....you can get the idea pretty quickly as to how i felt. Master of the Atom, Skourge of humanity....

    Before surgery became a must have - it was initially treated with steroids and anti biotics and then they were used to keep me alive/active enough to feed up on reserves to survive surgery - I had to work on getting some kind of fit...which this post is meant to be about - if i digress too much my apologies, imagine me trying to explain modern day currency in the EU and going back to Plantagenet and Medici for various examples/tangents and you can sympathise with my old drinking buddies of my early twenties. - No I will not comment on the EU, nor of my views back in the 90s and the evolution of those views, so you can be thankful on that at the least, should you every have a bad day be thankful you never had to drink with me.

    I started by walking around the bed. this was not easy and the early parts are very important not to push yourself too hard or you do more harm than good.
    Slowly I built up to going to the water machine down the corridor even though classed as infected the staffers and nurses didn't seem to mind - the outbreak of a strange new plague that affected the entire town happened around this time, the mystery as to how it started has never been solved -

    A golad of mine was to see the outside of the building at night time, I was told from our floor we could see several towns away by the lifts and I always liked seeing the lights at night of towns.  Getting to the stage of trudging to the lifts outside of my ward was quite a morale boost and gave quite a natural high.
    The towns looked plenty cool as they always do at night with all the lights. I spent about ten minutes looking out the window and making use of my freedom to walk around the lift entrance (only probably about ten metres squared space but it was nice to be able to walk around somewhat normally - and i don't think i would have been allowed to during the day, not that i would have wanted to due to being 'somewhat fragile' to say the least. I was still skin and bone looking into the bathroom mirror at the hospital which gives you a full length view in the private room ones was **** near soul crushing just to behold.
    I was sort of tempted to take a picture back then and then later have something to show as the differences of improvement but another part of me was fully aware it was mortality time and i did not want the last photo of me  to be looking like that, it would not have been nice for those that knew me. Plus just the memory of it now makes me somewhat shudder having a picture I think would perma stun me maybe - i dont know.

    So walking around during the day time when there were other people around like visitors/porters/workers etc was just bit too much of a daunting task a simple innocent accidental brush may have flattened me. Plus I dont think anyone who was not prepared to see a skin and bone wild man wandering about would have probably been put off their dinner. (I had a very hairy face throughout my stay in hospital).

  • Le Wulf
    Le Wulf
    Unicorn Overlord
    Joined Jan 2012 Posts: 6,063
    (had to cut post for the board limits)

    It was an accomplishment to get to the lifts at night and that boosted my morale quite a bit.
    I started doing more in my room mainly late at night, walking around it and moving my arms to keep them active and working.
    As the body got used to this small exercise I started doing more like jogging, which was quite easy as there was so little of me my legs did not have much to push around the room and my cardio did not have much work for it so that worked a treat.
    Started throwing in some jabs while doing so and again with the steroid boost was quite fun. I also started doing basic moves with my legs like stretching exercises and slight Shaolin Variations in movement for them. was tempted to start doing high kicks but wisely thought better of it.
    I was told by the docs when they came round I should be careful where doing exercise is good for me I need to be very careful that what I do is not consuming all the energy from the food I am putting into it, this made a ton of sense so limited my exercise.

    Something to be wary of with steroids is they will make you feel like superman, but you got to monitor yourself carefully when taking them, in high enough doses you could easily push yourself far too hard and undo a lot if not all progress that has been made when rebuilding.

    All this was easy stuff especially comparing it to after surgery.

    When the news came all had failed and now it was a race against time once again this time for survival during and after surgery, that knocked me like a ton of bricks. I was feeling better and better thinking I could walk away from this unscathed I could get back into being 'me' again.
    I think very visually, even when writing I have to take time to 'think' as if im writing/talking and then putting it onto the page. If I did not what I would write would be describing a massive moving picture and would be literally throwing words at the screen hoping some of them would stick. Apparently visual thinking in my manner is not the run of the mill and it is probably why I can keep track of multiple enemy movements in BP quite easily in my old role of Tactical Recon in 225 which involved jumping in and out of a few battles at once and giving coords of enemies incoming to the other attackers/defenders of the old SF.

    I once got punched so hard it took me off my feet and i landed literally exactly as i stood when being punched a few inches off the ground and then back onto it. The person who punched me I think was quite taken aback I had not reacted at all - the truth is I felt that blow rattle me and I did not know how to react so didnt just stared at him dead in the eyes, trying to work out what to do - he didnt come at me again after; did the side of my face no good for quite some time even bloodshot my eye even though didnt hit me there. Back in the ancient days of high school I should add. -

    That is how hard the blow of being told it was surgery time smacked me one. It stunned me.
    I could not really get a sense of grounding, usually I can there is some kind of ground to stand on.
    With this was the knowledge i will now have a bag on my stomach and I would not walk away from this as nothing more than a light smack in the mouth was very stunning.

    I make no secret I am a follower of Mars, a man of Jesus and quite naturally created by The Almighty. After all who else could create the likes of me other than a divine supernatural being, who made you guys is your business and i'm not a bible basher. (a bible basher is someone who bangs your head with what the bible teaches and does not allow for individual interpretation or individual thought or in fact any individuality - which considering the new testament is all about a guy upsetting the establishment by being revolutionary nice is quite something to behold imo)

    Now to put why i put the above as I did...

    I got a growing visual that would bypass my other thoughts, it kept pushing them aside. Over and over again i got the same sequence repeating itself. :

    A man in armour appeared in front of a tower/keep in a forest with mist clouding it. It is dark but the tower is somehow lit up sort of normally. the knight strides across the drawbridge and enters the tower kneeling to a large cross. the inside of the tower seems small.

    His tabard over the armour is Plantagenet/Crusader (St George's Cross).

    And all I could think was that guy is prepared, he is going to war and is prepared, and I am not.
    Over and over it came, bugging me as he (the knight) had purpose and even dying in that purpose he was in a better position than I was as he was prepared for it.
    Me I was not, I felt I had no grounding.

    I had never undergone surgery which probably does not surprise many of you given my stubborness on not getting medical treatment until it was nearly too late. Even when my ribs got punched in and I could barely breathe for couple of weeks (and the pain continued for quite some time after that) I did not go to hospital or le docs. So surgery was certainly a mind numbing thing to have to happen.
    A fear of mine was that the anasthetic they give you puts you to sleep, but what if they could not wake me up?
    I can go into dream mode in a matter of a minute when science used to say it should take hours to get into that state. This just made me think great, soon as I go under I aint coming back.

    The sword instructor in Game of Thrones I liked 'Not today!' when faced with Death. (I told my partner to pay attention to everything that one said when he was training the young stark).

    I been in a number of precarious positions before but the way this one got to me was it just didn't seem natural or rather it was just not in the way I expected to go. But least I would go in my sleep and unlike so many others i would be expecting it, that is something to hold onto. The 'anchors' in life you probably know when faced with all sorts you can naturally find things as an anchor to hold onto.
    An anchor into the surgery was that Morphine would be used, I had morphine the year before and that stuff as i remembered was great (I had kidney stones, didnt know that was what they were and that was first time i had gone to the hospital in yonks, I even stopped a cop car to take me there due to the pain being so immense i didnt think i could make it to the hospital on my own steam  - i thought my insides were tearing up and didnt mind the fact of going to next life was concerned about how much it bloody hurt in this one - i'll go into details about that another time maybe). So having Morhpine was an anchor, it was familiar I had it before and it was great. (I was to have whole ton more of morphine after surgery for the duration of my stay in hospital, I am glad i am off it urgh it gets to you after awhile like all the drugs did/do).

    Another anchor was i got maybe a week when surgery comes and I am to eat like mad, I cannot eat too much just keep scoffing and scoffing while avoiding 'trigger foods' (foods which make me run to le bog). So that means I get to eat tons more of tinned fish - I got a real pining for fish this year, considering i spent most my life happily avoiding it except on rare occasion this year i ate more than ever before. My family were bringing in food for me to eat in between hospital dinners included tons of tinned fish and unfatty beef chunks. Chicken well cooked.

    all these were morale boosters and were getting me ready for the surgery I had to think of it as a war, me vs what was to come. In all wars its best to get that grounding sorted, made peace with various members of my family which took a nagging weight off my mind (a couple of them quickly showed there colours again after surgery but **** to them, everyone knows what they like anyway).
    Called in the chaplain, the nurses were concerned when I did this as up to then I had been quite positive about everything and the future. But as said before the news of surgery got to me.
    In all the things i written on Battle Pirates you guys now know what eventually got to me ie defeated me, 1. was physically being skin and bone, where I had to admit my body could not fix itself so had to seek outside help. 2. facing surgery and accepting this is it. - See I am not invincible after all, I do accept there is a limit to being me :p

    They had different chaplains on different days, and all were very nice and understanding and accepted my various views that while not conventional in the Christian context they sort of got it (did not mention Mars think that would have confused them a bit).
    One of the ward docs came in to see me and asked how I was, he told me the nurses are worried that i sent for the chaplains and this surgery although majour i should not think it was The End.
    By then I got my anchors and was pretty optimisitic and 'ready' of sorts. Having the chaplains who now I think were very experienced with dealing with patients, was a great boost of morale being able to talk to them about various things and being able to be quite open about my beliefs and what not. Because they are not medical people they were not 'them'. At some points of the visits with various professionals I was getting quite a doom and gloom feeling, there always seemed to be something wrong and there was always something needing to be fixed. This would carry on until quite near my release from hospital.
    So having chaplains on side was very nice and I looked forward to seeing them.
    As I said I am not a bible basher and think quite lowly of such people, and up until recently did not have that much of a high opinion of various 'middle men/women' of the clergy. To which those three who came and saw me regularly I have a very high opinion of.

    Having anchors for one self and the support of others was handy, in front of family I had to be strong. Having there support gave that boost a sort of additional accelerator for going forward.
    Having people from Battle Pirates sending my partner and myself messages of support also helped with that boost to get fighting the good fight ahead.
    I never quite got encouragement always figured it was empty words to get you to do what you did not want to do. (Or to try and get the balance right of encouraging others to do well while not patronizing them). this has certainly told me it does help despite going against my understanding of things it really does work.
    One wanted my partner's permission to put a thing up on the war room for prayers for me - i found the message quite some time later and my partner had not seen it - It was a nice thought but went against every memorial topic I posted on (although as time has gone on I been softer in my approach on advising on where such topics should go).
     My view is still the same, people play games especially Battle Pirates to be fierce and unruly and wild, not to feel sorry for someone who has died. It is kind of a rain on the parade so to speak. (I do agree in making groups for people to post about that person in a proper memorial fashion, or have a section of the forums just for that kind of thing).

    So what has all this got to do with rebuilding?
    A lot, is the short answer.

    You need a solid ground to progress on. Anchors (I refer to them as anchors as liken to if in a storm at sea you want to be able to control where you are, get a grip and plan the next move before bolting off into the yonder) can put things into perspective can give you that much needed solidarity for you to be able to make yourself well physically...or at least make it a bit easier.
    to quote a mental health professional long ago "The two things the human will have when stripped down to the bare bones of everything society has taught them, including manners/protocols/decency is sex and religion."
    So there you go, no matter what happens to you, your brain will revert to the primeval state of the Flintstones. (and possibly that of the people who are permanenetly on benefits as a career choice; if your really unlucky).

    I had no sex drive - none at all. It simply did not exist, but I still had the sense of religion which is always nice to know. (And for the record I do believe in various sciences I just don't believe in the many 'tech priests' and its many followers - 40k reference). - I get very ratty with those types even more than I do with the bible bashers.

    If you are fortunate enough like I was/am to have the time to consider, ponder and then evaluate the situation of your own demise and how to get over it so not to be stunned, then its not so bad after all. And you can progress.

    There was a show on recently where people would be standed on an island or wilderness with the most basic of food (that would just about keep them alive) to be used if nothing else was procured by them.
    I liked to watch the arc of them as they initially deal or not deal as most of the cases would be in that alien environment.
    One I particularly liked was a guy who was getting rained on nightly and not able to get sleep through the rain and the 'attempts' he made at fixing the shack up to keep him dry kept failing. He was not getting the food he was just failing and getting weaker and hungrier as time went on, then one day he started fighting back properly.
    In survival you find something to do that increases your survival it does not matter what it is as long in some way it increases your chances. The body will get a natural high from doing such an action.
    In this guys case he started cleaning his fingernails and that made me smile, he maybe not realizing it was working on getting his survival chances higher. Basic grooming is something many species work on, from ants (if you see them get dirty they will clean off there antennas) to gorillas.
    After he had done his nails he got that bit of fight into him and shortly after caught a lobster and he started 'winning' so to speak.
    Morale plays a big part in things.

    So in my case : eating, family, chaplains who were not bible bashers, nurses, basic exercise, support from a friend i knew back in school, support from friends and associates from BP, knowing it was coming and the rough time for it helped a lot too, the nurse who loved pizza as much as I did (if not more) - i might mention more about various nurses not sure yet later on)). All this helped getting that mindset 'ready' to face what was coming....and frak if I had known what was to come I probably would have hitched to beachy head and done one lol.

    Posting now to see and will continue later for the surgery/after surgery as got grub on its way :)
  • Le Wulf
    Le Wulf
    Unicorn Overlord
    Joined Jan 2012 Posts: 6,063
    and a very late addition ....
    To explain a bit clearer, recently i was having shivers and all sorts happening when remembering the weak state i was in, in case what is below is confusing.

    I been putting off this bit because as time goes on one has 'fought the good fight' and when that passes and I settle back to being somewhat 'normal' the memories return of being in pain and more or less helpless lying on the hospital bed.
    It was getting to the point where at random times (including very recently) i would get cold shivers and my body would freeze up as i (randomly) started to think on the hospital after surgery and the state i was in before it.
    I would try to fight off the memory like i do with other ones which are a bit negative by the usual robust attitude 'hey im fine now i beat it/them /whatever' then the realization comes back down with a smack in the chops that i did not 'beat this' i survived it....least for now.
    Then the cold returns and would take a bit to shake it off along with other bits.
     Not nice feeling at all.
    Aggression or calm could not beat this effect, it would come in waves.
    I think i would say i was turning into a coward - not that i was all that brave to begin with mind...stubborn yes, brave no. But then i never really understood the concept of bravery seemed like a word made up by poets and people in charge to justify making mankind go through hell on the battlefield.

    However very recently I was chatting to a wonderful person who I don't know how to put it but just chatting to them and playing a game with them made so much of the mental pain go away. They understood sort of what i was going through and when i was trying to describe what happened and how it left me they kinda just laughed in a good way and I dont know quite how it happened but it seemed to snap out a lot of that negative stuff and made the powerlessness not bad at all. I now understand that person who helped me as brave in my view.

    The other psychological part is quite far out....
    I was a person before this year, a person with lots of knowledge a lot of natural aggression and a rather worrying amount of knowledge on how to take an enemy apart.
    This person was for all intents and purposes quite a passive person and i have memories as if they were a dream from them.
     Rather than hurt another person unless incredibly very much provoked this one would shut down go into a very dark hard frame of mind and withdraw - woah be to the person who stood in his way while withdrawing.
     I recall the ability in this person i was meant to be before to be able to physically push themselves beyond limit at times and get into 'the zone'.
     His attitude if facing a group of people in an aggressive situation was simply 'the more the merrier harder to miss' kind of attitude. (dont know what 'mine' would be).
    Yet despite all that was still not a bad guy after all I think. Certainly liked challenging themselves on war games and as we know battle pirates also.
    I read some of the work i had restarted telling people out of reflex to read in the signature links.
    I read psy ops and remembered something of what was to come within it the planned part of insurgency and infiltrating alliances and mass psychology urgh!
    The guy was a freaking monster! Just as well he and I share this overwhelming sense of wanting to protect everyone in the world.
    I know i could not write the same guides now.

    One knew they had changed very significantly when laying in bed some months ago (may have been two or three i dont know the exact timing) just laying down out of hospital and gradually bits of information would make themselves known ie something quite random would come back - i had a similar things happen in the past due to various bits and pieces but this was quite a lot bigger i assume due to the state i got into (think partly down to lack of energy to process thoughts as well as a severe lack of certain vitamins that make the brain function - or something like that).
    so there was me happy i suppose just laying there enjoying not being in the hospital with its constant....beep...beep...beep...beep...beep (took weeks for that bloody sound to stop haunting me after leaving there) and its constant 'obs' and its constant 'your not very well you should be blah blah blah' from what i affectionately referred to everybody as the doom and gloomers (with exception to a few maybe) you see there is me keeping optimistic about things 'hey im better than before!' and then constantly being told 'meh this is wrong...meh this is wrong...' it does take a toll on one i certainly remember that
     - I think they assumed i was too stupid to realize i was in fact more or less proper frakked; until one day i think i snapped at them a bit or swore at them and then the lovely hot drinks lady chose then to come into the curtains not realizing i was on a major downer to offer a hot beverage. Frak the docs, and specialists barked at her in quite a big way, she tried to explain oh but he doesnt usually mind me coming into the curtains (i at times kept curtains closed for sanity sake) to which they barked at her more i would have felt sorry for her if i had not been feeling so bleh!
    I shall add I really liked her, typical salt of the earth type so happy so chirpy. I liked the Indian lady who came round at the weekends too, i have always admired the fashion since i was bairn as well as the accents. might be because my area i grew up in is what is now termed 'multicultural' who knows.

    And i have completely waffled on as i do...So getting back to what i was saying before :
    I was happy laying in bed out of hospital and then the mind decided it was ready to put more information to my conscious self. As i mentioned i kind of visualise my thoughts a lot and do try to verbalise them also to keep them slowed down because otherwise the mind just sits there with nothing to do and thats a freaking nightmare...it likes to be kept occupied.
    Different things started drifting back from memory of knowledge.
    Hmm this looks interesting i was thinking looks like a war or something....oh thats a lot of wars going on all at once...the world map appears and the person before me seemed to have a globe of multi dimensional proportions on tons of battles of the past, like hundreds. all with notes attached in one form or another with timelines to boot!
    I could zoom in and see weapons and formations or zoom out and see the evolution of human expansion and the warfare that occured. Then came yet another layer i managed to quieten the globe down a bit but this other layer was tons of mind drawn diagrams of the human body and ways to lure and then counter attack and come round for other attacks and urgh!
    Then came various demonstrations of different martial arts.

    All this happened within a rather short space of time.
    and i remember having some affinity to Mars and my belief system before then - and still do maintain a similar thing as memory serves. Along with the more traditional perception of current religions of course.

    I still get that feeling of Victory when i realized early on in March that it was March and therefore the month of Mars and with that as the Sun shone through the cutained window I realized whether it was to live or not to live, my heart would sing to Mars that very month and it would be good whatever the result.

    So hopefully that makes you all realize by certain standards i was proabbaly totally insane while others will just nod and agree that it is an interesting way to look at the world. Those with a braincell will realize no the only insane thing about you is that you are too bloody stubborn to ask for help or to admit you are in pain until you are in agony to then you mention 'i am in a bit of pain actually' - although my **** features may often show signs of pain i am not as tough as i was back in the 20s.

     - As Sheldom Cooper would say 'im not insane my mother had me tested' ....which brings me back to the hospital once more because shortly after my little outburst towards the people i called the Doooms and Glooms or The Doomers and Gloomers they sent a mental health guy to make sure how i was coping either later that day or day after not sure. Apparently i was the pinnacle of sanity and reasoning and through my life i had developed a way of not being defeated, he said there is just layer upon layer of machanism within my mind that just seems to see every adversity as a challenge that SHOULD be conquered.
    I thought he would pass me off as nuts when i mentioned about how i think various people in the past are linked somehow in the ages they died at and how they contributed towards humanity.
    Ofcourse the most surreal thing about this encounter with this man was he was also a martial artist he even studied Bruce Lee's jeet kun do (apologies if it is spelled wrong) and he seemed to understand everything i wa saying when i mentioned about how i used to train he totally got it...i was beginning to think he might be just being polite, but nope he had his own thoughts as well and the most surreal thing is he had only just started at the hospital!
    Theres coincidence and then theres something.

    So there you go me = perfectly sane or at least not totally bonkers.

    And again i waffled on and got lost to any point i was making....
    As mentioned my head filled with all this information and occasionally bits and pieces come back in bunches. I dont think too much of that globe on human expansion and resource and all that, think i now know why people are quite happy living in ignorance of the world we inhabit.

    The other rather huge thing...is that I am not the actual person i was before. Have not said anything i think to anyone i know and any Fangs reading this may be surprised by this revelation.
    I did mention to one person though and probably confused them i think lol

    You see i dont know what or when it happened. I spent so long in pain and trying to put one foot in front of the other or being in pain or exausted just to reach across from the bed to the table to pick up a beaker of water it never really occured to me.
    But the longer since then the more distant things are of 'me' before.

    I retained my personality of sorts i think from memory being so fresh of it, like a dream you can instantly recall in every detail and if you keep thinking hard on it you can store bits of that dream but at the expense of other bits of that dream.
    And i do hope nobody gets offended from reading this if they knew 'me' 'before'...
    I can remember you here and in the physcial world of sorts but I don't actually 'feel' you.
    I have this compassion for people so i do feel, but not like before.
    My friend who came round to see me who i knew in school that made me happy (some time ago) but I trust he was a very good friend but there is a distance now. Same with other people I have memory of them but no connection to those people. The people i meet now i have like a new connection to so its not like i am cut off from that kind of thing.

    It sort of happened over the past several months. It probably sounds very heartless, but 'I' assure you 'I' am not heartless. If anything compared to the person i was before i think I am much more inclined to being kinder and nicer to people. I play another game and I got the memory of the guy i was before who immediately was thinking about great empire and all this that and the other! but my 'heart' is not quite in it.
    A sort of game the person before would easily dominate, but 'me' I actually care about people on there and if i beat them up on there it is for a defensive reason rather than 'because i can and it will be funny to watch them moan about it'.

    I dont know if this is a good thing or a bad thing.
    But it certainly feels very different.
    I can guarantee the person who writes this now is not capable of uniting a sector or commanding a serious war against one.

    Why do I write this?
     probably to scare the pants off anyone who is still umming and arring on whether to get something checked out or not.

    Physically I am doing well according to the doctor today and he has taken me off the fortisips, otherwise i would be in danger of becoming overweight if taking them when i do not need to.
    I should point out when i first saw this doctor who basically got me seen to asap by specialists, i remember being quite intimidated by him....today i think is the first day i have seen him as none intimidating at all. - i been to seen him several times over the months.

    I will get on with the actual physical recovery but just felt i should write this as i do today as the reason i had not completed the recovery after surgery is because of the feelings of dread i got, it was simply to hard to think about it. That now has gone.

    To the person I know will be reading this and probably the other bits i asked you not to read....Thank you....I am an **** and don't I know it :)

  • Le Wulf
    Le Wulf
    Unicorn Overlord
    Joined Jan 2012 Posts: 6,063
    Got the go ahead that surgery will be happening on saturday.
    I had several days to eat and eat and eat.
     So i went for it.

    Tins of fish at that point were a good staple for me, i didnt like fish too much before this year (and not too keen on it now with few exceptions) but prior surgery and even before i got into hospital could not seem to eat enough of the stuff.

    Had toast for breakfast then made sure i had the fish and fortisips and whatever else was around think it might be biscuits cant remember.

    One day was doing very little but eating (still looked like a skeleton mind just with bit more skin on it - Nurses looked very doubtful when i said how much better i was feeling and looked - but then they did not see me entering the hospital the week before).
    got to about 12:30 and was literally just about to dive into my lunch when nurse rushed in and told me stop eating, its official i cant eat anything until i had a ct scan!
    I was not amused to say the least.
    so for several hours had to sit there looking at my food being somewhat peckish.

    This CT scan you lay on the surface and theres a big circle thing that you go in the middle of (hard to explain). They inject you with some chemical that lights your insides up i think and then you got some breathing exercises and the machine tells you when to breathe and when to stop and all that.
    they helped me onto the thing and helped me put my arms above my head (you lay on your back and your arms in this one were straight above your head).

    Soon as that silliness was done i could go back to the room and start eating again.

    People were surprised at my positive outlook, but then i was as mentioned earlier pretty blown away by the whole thing and especially when told my intestines are now coming out.
    But with slight change of perception i was not too concerned. Other than my fear for many years should i ever have to go under anaesthetic i might not come round again, which was my greatest concern.

    Was told surgery will be around noon and that pleased me, it meant i would have several hours to get mentally prepared for it on the day and won't need to think too much about it before then.
    Then about 9 am comes and a person is there and nurses are there telling me its been changed i got to go now!
    That threw me some, there was me thinking got a nice few hours to get really chilled out and mentally prepared to meet thy maker and instead nope its now!
    That did throw me a bit.
    Still recognized the nurse and porter and others, and all that week they had been wishing me well and good wishes. I knew as i left that ward i probably would not see them again and that saddened me, actually had a tear of missing the staff i'd known. I also knew i probably would not recognize them even if i did see them again and that sucks too.

    During that week (leading up to surgery)  took full advantage of the steroid affects and was training, started with simple walking and then with bit of light jogging around the room and even started some martial stuff but not in any kind of intensity. Was told by the docs to lay off the training they said its good that i am doing that but i am risking taking away any progress i have made and that would be dangerous for surgery.
    Looking back I am surprised at how close i had got before admitting defeat and in some ways  it was a surrender going to see a doc in the first place.
    If the symptons were not so inconvenient I would have likely passed on.

    So laying down in the bed as they pushed/pulled me out of the ward, the man who at one point could stand his ground and face off several people at once with a grin and a grim determination of no surrender as if it was nothing more than a casual night out (which in the days of long gone pretty much was the case - although i was known as a nice guy, and one of the good guys amongst various crews, just when one is young such things as standing ones ground can be bit of a principle kind of thing but i was not the stereotypical thug/bully by any means, I found i often clashed with such types or they would quickly decide they would be friends of mine and behave until i said otherwise).
    As the ceilings past by i dont think the irony escaped me of former days and nowadays.

    A pathetic skeleton, with a fierce determination to fight, not to survive mind but to fight the good fight out of principle.
    And Having said that having the chaplains on side was a decent morale boost and maybe bit of an extra guarantee maybe that the Almighty One won't bake my **** too much should he drag me back. (My personal belief system is controversial to "aethieists" and the religous nutters in equal measure, something I find quite satisfying, especially as it was not meant to be controversial my views....aethiests or however it spelled often get annoyed at my level of scientific knowledge in physics - not that i remember much of it now lol - much fun giving them a few standard theories and them 'disbelieveing what i say' - and then i mention to them it is in fact basic accepted sciences i just handed over, they dont like that, especially when i point out about Dark Matter and other inconvenient scientific 'facts'...but back to this)

    I had always believed in man's supremacy, now dont take that as i am a white supremist of any kind. those guys are usually everything that is not supreme about the human form both intellectually and physically.
    I remember when was younger watching documentary on those guys and took me a while to realize what Waite Purrr meant.
    The irony of their really sloppy nazi salutes did not escape me then either.
    Could write quite a book on the subject of one's own beliefs but will spare you the reader that... least for now.
    Point is, I was a strong believer in the human body can repair itself given the right circumstances, and if i was totally honest i did not give my body the right circumstances and so this thing beat the **** out of me.
    Take note : At the beginning of this i said : you see any sympton of what i described before get your beligerent **** to the doc! and i am still saying it now.
    If I can go down by it, then bet your **** you could too, but unlike me you now know to get it sorted professionally straight away.

    So i am at odds with things, i am not prepared fully, it is bit of a shock being sent to surgery a lot earlier than i thought.
    I am breathing hard, getting that brain of mine working on anchors.

    anchor 1 :
    I recognize the nurse and porter taking me there.

    anchor 2 :
    I am not yet in surgery, so can breathe a bit and get ready.

    anchor 3 :
    i am left outside this ward to my own thoughts and getting my breathing seriously ready.
    I got fear.
    fear is good it means i am wanting to live and can recognize potential danger.

    anchor 4 :
    Another nurse comes (or a female doc/whatever i don't know, don't take offence i literally did not know what there part to play was and still cant remember). They gave me some form to sign i looked at it and squiggled on it, knowing me probably put my usual signature which if anyone looked at it closely would see what it said and give them a smile.
    So that means successful contact made at rendezvous.

    Anchor 5 :
    Recognize the anaesthitist (sorry if misspelled) guy.
    He explains what is going on as I am wheeled on back of bed into theatre.
    Theatre looked untidy as there are lots of machines. Looks like something out of the old tv show the Time Tunnel.
    They transfer me to another bed, a bed I will stay in for several days.
    He explains some of the irritants that can happen after surgery, i remember only one and that is because it happened and had forgotten he had said it could happen more on that later.
    Morphine will be used as well. I had morphine once before and knew i was fine with it.

    Anchor 6 :
    My stuff is taken off me, wooden crucifix the chaplain gave me cant remember if i held onto it or not it was mainly to let the All Father know i'm kissing **** for once, well at least in my way.
    Was I scared?
    Yes, of Him, the Other and the passing on journey itself.
    Don't think at that point i expected i would be in much of a good state to serve in any forces above and beyond in that realm.
    Anaesthitist guy putting mask on me, which gives oxygen and a thing in my arm pumping me with morphine and anything else they chuck in you to keep you quiet while your butchered asleep.
    I like the sound of the breathing it has a relaxing thing to it as i breathe deeply.

    Anchor 7 :
    He starts counting for me, I am not expecting to come back, but i got that counting going on and to prepare for the journey beyond.
    Just over half my age ago I was hoping i would come out of a situation alive and maybe be able to eat solid food after several months - fortunately nothing came of it and was fine. Breathing in deeply.
    The guy got to 7 before i went under.
    Part of me for a breathest of moments recognized Good.


  • Le Wulf
    Le Wulf
    Unicorn Overlord
    Joined Jan 2012 Posts: 6,063
    I come awake seeming almost immediately but everything feels different, more awake more alert somehow. Everything feels real once more.
    Someone is jabbering away, i pay attention. Was it a success? I recognize i am alive and that is Good.

    Yes everything went well.

    I breathe and told not to move, and that suits me cos all of a sudden moving seems a very bad idea.

    In fact laying still seems a very bad idea....
    What is this?
    I am in pain!
    Urgh it is aching and pain!
    Breathing but still in pain!
    I give orders to put me back under, I am told they cant, i am also surprised at the time very late afternoon/early evening!
    I order them to give me painkillers, they are surprsied i can feel anything....dammit i am feel a whole ton right now!
    They pump me with a load more painkillers i assume its morphine.
    I can breathe easy once more.
    The surgery was success they go and they could do keyhole surgery, and that was good and i agreed - as well as being very much amazed they managed  to do that.
    What a wonderful Surgeon she is!

    They wheel me out to the unit, the one i am meant for is full so they stick me in the high dependency unit. Frak if i know the differences in these sort of wards.

    I see family as I am wheeled past them and think i manage a wave or a smile. I try to imagine that 8 or 9 hours + has passed and cannot.

    They wheel me in an open ward, its nice to be around people again. That feeling doesn't last long but its nice to be part of society in some small way.
    Everyone looks tired and I got things stuck on me measuring my heart and all that.
    I am kinda chirpy I think probably due to the amount of painkillers pumped into me.
    I remember one of the family saying they gonna go now, as its awkward them just standing there staring at me it feels odd they say. I don't quite understand and am surprised but am reminded they have been in hospital all day - again i am trying to get my head around that 'time' jump.
    dont know if it is that day or the next, but one minute I am happy chatting away and feeling good then a machine goes nuts beeping loudly and nurse comes running (literally) and starts checking me and I am saying I am fine (nobody believes me), and the machine won't shut up, got other staff around me checking me and then rest of family decide to go and I am very confused by all the fuss.

    Eventually everything calms down and apparently my heart or something was going hyper but i am fine now. - I never did quite get the hang of that machine and could not wait to be rid of it. It blasted off a number of times, as if it wanted to keep me from being relaxed and happy.

    In this ward you don't have a button to press if you need help. the other wards you do. The theory on this ward is there is one nurse to every two patients and they will be there immediately if you need any assistance.
    In theory it is a good idea.
    In practice, could certainly do with a button.

    I was once more incredibly weak, way more weaker than I had ever been prior surgery.
    Was also risking agony if i moved too much.
    Example of how weak I was?
    I could not roll onto my side and when i was rolled onto my side it was often in blazing agony.

    That is with morphine on tap and being does up to the eyeballs on ketamin (its the drug im told they give horses before they are put down).
    Powerful stuff Ketamin.
    You can see people who arent there, shadows of people and sometimes sort of actual people. Could not get much details on them but it was interesting watching them.
    Often you would have a feeling of someone right next to you watching over you or maybe someone waving there fingers in front of your face (sometimes it was like branches). Shadows.
    Your name is sometimes called.
    sort of scary but very comforting at the same time.
    Occasionally it was not shadows and a sort of cartoon would play out amongst the 'real' world. I saw the anaesthetist crouching down with a big maniacal grin on his face, he looked like he was about to get up to soemthing that was rather fun. I watched fascinated by this guy as he crept around the room, he then looked at me and shot off at great speed, I realised then it was not him.

    Every doctor who came onto that ward said they had never seen a patient so happy, nurse said thats the 'ketamin' he is pumped full of it.
    any time i seemed to be coming down the nurse he came round and made sure i was dosed up again.
    Part of me was somewhat concerned just what the effect of all these drugs were having on me, and i remembered one night when i got the blood transfusion some time before surgery getting ratty with a nurse who was concerned my body was rejecting it and got in touch with the doc who gave orders i was to be given paracetamol to get my temperature down.
    Now here i am being dosed up with this stuff and serious amounts of morphine.

    Lots of shadow people about on that ward and I got a sneaky suspicion not all of them were hallucinations - when out of hospital someone made quite a start when they looked at me and when they got there breath back they said there was some old man there looking at you and he isnt there now.
    Don't know if thats a good thing or a bad thing having someone follow me around then of that side of things.

    Back to the button thing...
    I could barely move that night and had the thirst of Ragnar.
    through weakness (as the surgery really had taken its toll on me and i realized why they were saying eat eat eat eat eat before it) and pain I could barely move my arm to the table beside me. The water jug was just that bit out of reach.
    That hurt.
    My mouth was so dry it hurt, had to force it open and break away that dry sticky thing that happens all through it it seemed.

    So very far that jug of water. I had not taken the simple thing of water for granted for a very long time and was glad i had always felt good when takng a drink before then (when well).
    Try as i might could not get my hand to get hold of that jug of life giving water.
    I tried to call out but nothing was coming out.
    So much pain, so dehydrated so weak.
    It was humiliating.
    the nurse and others were not facing me so could not see i needed help.
    I decided to pass out and try again another time maybe.

    Coming round think i got someone to get the jug for me and pour me water, frak it felt good getting that water inside me.

    In that ward because everyone is in such a bad way it is not separated by gender like the others, think the priority is keeping everyone alive rather than making it all neat gender style.

    There was an old woman next to me to my left.
    You could feel herself fighting to either stay alive or get dead I think the two instincts fight each other more than anything.
    This may sound harsh to those who are not familiar with feeling someone fighting life next to you....
    I could feel when the body gave them up eventually, there was a sense of relief from that area. Could even feel something go upwards. don;t know if others ever felt something like that, maybe you got to be proper frakked to feel it yourself in that situation.
    I felt happy for them while also making note to anything else that had an idea to cart me away i was fighting the good fight still.

    Then you hear the daughter's voice of the person who just passed, and frak that is heart wrenching.
     As weak as i was and unable to move I just felt wanting to get up and holding them and letting them know they really did separate peacefully and it is for the better.
    instead i could do nothing for that person breaking in tears.
    I doubt i could even form a coherent conversation laying there let alone managing to sit up and climb out this super bed which seems designed for the user to stay put.

    (bearing in mind previous 'me' would have thought shut up and let me get my rest while politely trying to look none to unamused at being disturbed by such an inconvenience as someone dieing next to me and the further inconvenience of the family being upset. - think at some point in my life i must have put some barriers up bbut like i said before 'I' now and 'me' sometime before then are very different individuals.)

     There was another time during my brief stay (that was according to some paperwork of four days) in that ward another person who made me realize maybe i was not me.
    An older woman was often getting up and seemed to be wanting to get home and this was going on for hours throughout the night, one is trying to do the damndest to survive and well it is a bit difficult to concentrate on that when the brain is being wrenched constantly by having to recieve the distresses and commotions of something going on a number of meters away.

    I eventually decided to ask the powers that be what am i meant to do...the answer came back quite clearly (whether anything did answer or part of my brain somehow maintained the edge of strategy i dont know) :
    The person is distressed, scared and as far as they are aware in a dangerous place surrounded by officials who are not making any sense. they are a fighter that is why they aint going down and doing as they told, they are searching for a way out but cannot find one, the officials although not actually harming them are impeading them and are insisting on taking tests every now and then and this seems to be upsetting them further causing more distress.

    I am in same situation as them, they are afraid they are alone, they are not alone I am there, as weak as I am I am still there. how to convey that message to someone who is potentially is delusional as well as being on solid ground within themselves....
    One of the chaplains gave me another cross over Easter (or Ishtar I think is the original naming and celebration). And I thought well I can give that to them so managed to get the nurses attention (an attractive young lady in early 20s i would say, had bit of an edge too which i like). I mentioned to her about the lady being distressed and nurse tried to explain to me yes its not her fault blah blah blah so i said i know, how about next time she kicks off, give her this cross and let her know this is from me to let her know she is not alone and we are on the same side, and this place is a good place to be for now.

    The nurse said that was really sweet of me and thoughtful. (nobody had said that about me since before i was 14 i think)....well maybe in my early 20s too but think that was because certain women fancied me. (and recently been told several times i am sweet too which is sort of concerning).

    Maybe the old lady in the ward heard me I dont know but she did not kick off again and I managed to get some sleep.
    Heard her the following day talking and was much more calm and apologising. She had a fighters voice, not a gruff voice there is a difference. someone who can command sort of thing.


    On second day, I decided I made a friend a guy in a ton worse situation than I was. but he was getting better and more importantly he had aplenty good music collection blaring away in the corner next to him, when the ward was quiet the nurses would whack the volume up, when the ward was busy with other patients it was much quieter but still could hear it.
    I hope he got well, he was in such straits he could not speak but he could raise his arm up and return the thumbs up sign I gave when we made eye contact.
    Sometimes nobody could recognize when he needed assistance (no idea what he needed) as i was getting able to call out and move a bit i could flag someone down when i could see him needing help and then they would dart of somewhaere and find the nurse for him.

    the view out the window was amazing, especially if i could sit up could see right across the town and into hills far away.

    There was a lady who occupied the bed by the window and obstructed the view somewhat but was not bothered too much by that.
    Due to her condition she needed a lot of attention and one got accustomed to hearing the history of this that and the cats mother of all things up with her as she spoke to various specialists.

    It was nice to have a conversation and having the guy across me seemd to make bit of a camp of us three. Wouldnt say we were best of buddies but it was civilized.

    They took me off the ketamin at some point and hmm can safely say after couple days without it would have been happier with bit more of it to help ease some of the pain.
    The come down off that and the morphine on tap was incredible.
    Went from being the happiest chap to well imagine me on a bad day in a sector full of 'rules'.

    Had two types of morhpine now (ones before were stuck stright into my arm) these ones came in the form of pills and liquid.
    The pills were as the specialist guy said 'had street value' he quickly barked when i dropped one, it landed on the blanket so it wasnt damaged or anything.
    These pills released themselves slowly in your system throughout the day and was quite a serious affair on the amounts and times.
    The liquid known as Oramorph (or something) and that goes straight in the mouth.
    The ketamin took before had to rest under the tongue as long as possible and soak into the body through there.

    Oramorph could be taken every couple of hours i think and started off high dose and was on it throughout until the very last day - always optional.

    HD Unit pretty much sucked when your not smashed out your face on painkillers. Not the staff mind just the setup of it, all very intense.
    always had things stuck in me giving me this or that. And had a centre line stuck in my neck - i hated that thing!
    They used it to do all sorts very often to take blood samples.
    It got in the way of trying to move and walk as all muscles were stretched when trying to move at all and the centre line i could feel was weakening me (there was that little of me).

    The bed i was on, moved slightly all the time, some bits inflated an deflated to keep the body muscles working i assume. Downside to it was anytime you got somfortable and the pain subsided....on it would move again and make everything into pain once more. You could never predict when it would stop it moved slowly and be thinking ok this is ok im fine...and now its getting uncomfortable and now its **** hurting!

    spend a bit of time and more pain getting comfortable again adjust the bed a certain way to try and get comfortable again with the buttons.....then it would move again. sometimes it felt it was splitting me up.
    so relentless.
    Another downside was the lack of 'cushion' on me and somehow the bed had gotten fully inflated so it was quite hard to rest on. Everything was sore and eventually called the nurse guy over and said 'this is agony! you gotta get me a normal bed like i had back on the ward! this is killing me!' he had a look at it and said he didnt know how it had happened but he will now deflate the bed (think it was probably me pressing buttons randmly to see what did what that caused bed to inflate so much) and let him know if nothing happens.
    Thankfully within half hour the bed was once more bearable. I had put up with it for quite some time and felt a bit foolish for not moaning about it earlier.

    docs and specialists were seeing me regularly and thankfully had my sanity kept in check with the chaplains coming to see me so i could talk to someone who could be very separated from 'oh this isnt good, oh this should be happening, oh dear you need to do this....' and instead get a normal conversation of sorts and a kinda barrier to ward off any doomers and gloomers.

    First time i had to turn on my side was an experience of pain.
    Cant remember why i had to go on side sometimes be hours on side think for pressure sake maybe. sometimes they were just adjusting sheets i think.
    Was rolled over and guy said grab hold of the rail and just hang on it will be less painful....and he was right.
    Such relief when could roll back breathing was a luxury it felt.

    one nurse, one i mentioned earlier with bit of an edge just a slight one. Came along and said she had to roll me over and so was prepared for usual pain for pain sake it seemed...and it did not hurt a bit.  In fact it seemed quite ok.
    To say I was amazed would be an understatement.
    I even told her and she simply said think i might have the golden touch (or something like that). all other times before and after it hurt except when she did it. Don;t know how she did it but it worked.

    Another time was trying to get the water and was getting plenty pissed off about it to myself, so much bloody pain.
    Eventually though i got the bastard and struggled to pour myself a drink, but got myself one.
    Later she hinted, 'and there was me being cruel in making you get that water for yourself!' in a sort of joking way, but i realized she might have done it on purpose. A whole ton of pain and ton of muscle ache (due to not having much muscle)....took me awhile to thank her for that on the inside, i knew she was right mind.

    and more to follow on the HDU ward later.

    Remember chaps if there is something not quite right...get it checked out!
  • Le Wulf
    Le Wulf
    Unicorn Overlord
    Joined Jan 2012 Posts: 6,063
    I was going to cut and paste a couple of very recent fb statuses.


    I was going to write about the next bit of hdu which i think i went in before but today instead will post the following on this days todays thoughts.
    Being 19 septembre....my thoughts exactly :

    Just found out (like hour ago or so) today 19 septembre it was 70 - 80% chance of death during that surgery,
    that is 30% survival at best.


    I now finally 'get' why the docs and peoples were so 'dooms and glooms'.
    I said before i knew i was frakked but no need to be so doomer and gloomer about it was my thoughts when talking to professionals.
    Now it has really hit me, why they were so concerned....why all those were so **** nice.
    why the nurse who monitored the blood transfusion was so concerned - and what a **** jerk i was to her in my thoughts of her meddling and fussing over nothing (a fear of my body may have rejected the transfusion).


    80% chance of death, during surgery.

    I used to be quite proficient at gambling, but not even as an outside bet would i put money on that.

    In games/work/whatever i am happy to go against the odds, because i will create the environment to nudge those odds in my favour each time, everything will be to gain those odds in my favour....
    This was not in my favour and it was very much out of my hands.
    80% chance of death, during surgery.
    As you know i was not under any illusions about my plight hence why i made sure to get it squared 'upstairs' pretty fast. but...

    Hearing those words though 80% chance of death during surgery...

    Put me against 80 guys on a battlefield I would bet on me to win. (maybe not now but prior this year i would have)
    80% in surgery...frak no!
    It'**** me.

    Nobody wanted to tell me as they knew part of me would be stressed about it and may have diminished my chances further.
    **** I used to feel bad about taking a paracetamol.
    Every day the chances of survival were decreasing.
    Hence the get it done on Saturday.
    The doomers and gloomers were for real.

    Me, Le Wulf, known as many other call signs and reputations in physical and virtual worlds....finally nearly bought it that day.

    The constant obs now make sense.
    Nightly at stupid hours and throughout the day.
    They had to keep checking not as a routine set of silly rules.
    It was to make sure i was still alive and going to be until the next obs.

    I feel somewhat bad at some of the times i glared a bit unintentionally as they came in with that machine.Or I should say i feel somewhat worse than i already did at times about my 'stop fussing on me ' attitude.

    No wonder people were so upset, they knew i was done for.

    If you get something happen to you that you do not understand, do not do as i did and think you can beat it each and every time.

    It aint a quick death either, its a slow painful humiliating one at best.

    One where gradually in some ways and at super speeds at another your mind shuts down, your body starts failing in its capacity to carry out simple commands.
    your mind has to struggle with how to order your body to get something done.
    your body will struggle to lift itself.
    You will eventually fail at being able to form coherent thughts.

    Basic things that require zero planning, must be planned and stuck into perma memory so you can complete that task.
    Feeling your mind struggle and unable to operate at previous speeds of normality is not something to look forward to.
    And against much of my belief system...
    not even a stiff upper lip will be much use against the slow impending doom as your body is stripped of every bit of fat, muscle and hope.

    You got a problem, get it checked out with the professionals directly.
    Or you may not survive to write a blog of thoughts.

    I am going to share something a bit personal (well more person than usual I should add)
    Christmas morning of last year, about 7:30 to 7:45 am if i recall correctly. Just before things took a real turn for the worse, i was still operating more or less fine at this point, it was after this Christmas when things plummeted.

    I was watching a show on various hits, partner was asleep and i was just laid out in front of the tv...then this song came on.
    I recognized the setting of sorts when younger i used to visit a lot of pubs. you could see the expressions on a number of guys in there. Having the old furniture for company and the smokey air and exchange of empty pleasantries as they tried to find something in their lives when they had lost something valuable to them.
    I remember the other version of this song and the two sort of overlapped while i was watching this version.
    I thought about some of the guys i knew and wondered if they were looking at things the same waiting for something to progress in there drained pint glasses.
    Then I remembered my dad singing this song throughout the house when i was a child. (he was not a drinking man mind).
    My dad, the irony of this song and his end and that Christmas morning all rolled into one somehow  got to me.
    I am not ashamed to admit it made me cry, his end was not pleasant.
    His was Cancer, and it sucked that life out of him.
    when it had came back to him and i saw him - we did not see each other often at all, rarely in fact. I hugged him and **** i felt his bones under his coat as i hugged him outside the venue at about 8 pm maybe in the evening.
    After that night when he reduced in health i visited him once in the hospice and they let him go but the drugs reacted badly so he was readmitted for good this time.
    One of the few times i visited him there on way home i told my partner if i ever get to such a state like that do smother me, i cannot imagine such an end or situation to be in.

    that was a number of years ago but that Christmas before this year this song came on and made me cry for him.

    always get yourself checked because a loved one may hear this song and think of you, rather than being able to have a coffee with you instead.


  • U-sit-2p
    Incursion Leader
    Joined Aug 2014 Posts: 1,084
    bump cuz i miss this guy
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