45. There's A Snake In My Belly

I feel like it got to a point where I was the little ward mascot, I'd been there so long. Once, one of the student nurses was being nurse-in-charge for the day, and made me a paper patient-in-charge badge. Staff kept sticking it back on me, which I found a bit embarrassing. Didn't want people to think my ego had inflated that much as to have actually made myself a label. Not like I made it my business to know everyone in the ward. People just talked about their business very loudly. A few junior doctors were specifically sent my way to learn about my experiences as I was deemed very on the ball.

One day in the new year, it was time for Dean to be discharged. All of the therapists and some of the staff and patients lined the doorway. He slowly walked out alongside Alison, his physio, concentrating hard, but without her (physical) support. He said that level of concentration required tunnel-vision, so he didn't see that Andy, another patient, was in tears. He had had a stroke too, was a similar age to Dean, and he would be discharged next. In that heightened emotional atmosphere, with everyone cheering and clapping, it was not surprising he was affected. Tears sprung to my eyes at the sight, and Sarah saw me and welled up too. Discharges weren't often that affecting, or as well attended. It was a testament to Dean's character, and positivity.

In the new year I also had my worst hospital experience, when I couldn't use a toilet for 6 hours. I had an eye appointment over at the other hospital. Because I couldn't transfer into a car, it was arranged through the inter-hospital ambulance transport service. I was immensely distrustful of this service. However, I managed to turn up for my 9:20ish appointment on time. I was told basically the muscles in my eye were weak and shaky due to the nerves in the brain. This was something that they couldn't do anything about and would improve over time. This took all of 10 minutes. Then we had to wait for an ambulance to pick me up, spending the whole day in the opthomology waiting area. The boss came and apologised, and the ambulance was chased up by their reception and by the neuro rehab ward. Luckily my dad and sister were with me.

A few hours in, I was already bursting for a pee. We were sat right by the disabled toilet, but I couldn't use it because I couldn't transfer onto it. After a ridiculous wait, the ambulance drivers came at 4:00. They had to drop off another patient first though at a nursing home, so I got back at more like 5:00. I have never been so desperate for the loo, or a bedpan, in all my life. I'm traumatised just thinking about it. I told the driver to turn the siren on.

Around that time I got an appointment to have my PEG tube removed. On the day, I had to be nil by mouth for 6 hours, which wasn't a problem as it was first thing in the morning. Amy the health care assistant walked with my bed down to Endoscopy. I had managed to convince the doctors I wouldn't need an emergency needle (cannula) in my arm, as I told them I wouldn't panic and need sedating. Then, lying in my bed, I was wheeled into the operating room. A PEG tube is attached a bit like thread in fabric; it has a knot on the inside. It needs to be snipped to be removed, and the knot taken out.

To remove it, the tube was snipped off from the outside. Then a long bendy black probe with a camera on the end, which looked like a snake or an eel, went down my throat. Tiny graspers on the end grabbed the knot-come-loose, then the tube was pulled back up out my mouth. The doctors talked me through what everything was going to be like. There were four people in scrubs, but it seemed to be one lovely lady's job to just comfort me, and tell me I was doing well. A numbing spray that tasted a bit like bananas was sprayed down my throat, and between my teeth was put a mouth-guard (which looked a lot like a dummy), which had a hole in it for the probe to go through. The probe was a lot thicker and wirey-er than what I was expecting. The way it hung in the air felt like it was looking at me, inspecting me; animal, and curious. I still can't quite grasp it was swallow-able.

This snake went through the dummy. They didn't put me under anesthetic, as it was a quick simple job, and it helps if you can swallow the probe down. I swallowed the probe, marvelling at how I could still breathe. Breathing through my teeth sounded a lot like Darth Vader. I was warned that the coil of plastic entering my stomach would make me feel bloated, and it did. I could feel it poking around inside me. They could see the insides of my stomach on a computer screen, through the probe's camera. This screen was in my line of sight, but I kept my eyes shut to concentrate on staying relaxed (and not laugh at my own mental images). The tiny graspers on the end of the probe got the PEG knot, and they started to pull the probe back. It popped out of my mouth with a little rasping burp. It was coin-sized, and yellow.

Me singing to Joanna in my bay.