A few days after my intestine resection operation, my medical team decided to discharge me. I wasn't yet able to make it to the bathroom without a zimmer frame and my friend, a qualified doctor, told me that I shouldn't be discharged unless I could get the bathroom unaided. Friends and family were concerned about the pending discharge. They felt I wasn't quite recovered enough. Deep inside, I know my fiends advice to be correct, but I was just as eager to get home and I knew that the hospital was just eager to get the bed.
My sister informed me that unsafe discharge from hospital is a common place problem in UK. Please click on the previous link if you would like more information on this.
Still attached to my morphine machine, I hadn't stopped clicking for it's relief all day and all night through out the week. Strangely enough, I wasn't using the morphine for my operation site. This seemed fine. I was however still in great pain at the upper left of my bowel under my rib cage. I was using the morphine to keep the monster at bay! I asked my medical team why the persistent pain and they muttered something about things taking a while to settle down. So, I was going with their advice. They would discharge me the next day and my friend Elisa would come and stay at my place and help to take care of me for a few days.
That evening, on my consultants orders, the morphine machine, IV fluids and cannulas were all removed from my arms. The NG tube was removed from my throat. What a relief! Free at last! I thought to myself as I clutched my left side and made for sleep. I'd be at home soon. The sooner the better I thought as I closed my eyes. Hospitals are noisy, unrestful places. I relaxed back to get what rest I could.
The sleep didn't last long as the gnawing pain in my left side intensified into the darkness of the night. Like an angry bunched fist wrenching at my bowel, the searing pain began take over me. Raging unchecked by the morphine, there was nowhere for this issue to hide. The monster raised it's ugly head and began ripping dark green fluid from my body. My nurse came to my aid with oral pain killers. Within seconds and minutes, these would be thrust out of my body. The night shift surgical team arrived. The nurse had called for them. They informed me that they couldn't give me any more pain killers. Although we could all see the lost pills, they could not be sure how much had been absorbed by my body. They left and the agency nurse Blessing saw me fill another bowl. "I don't know what else to do!" said Blessing removing the bowl from sight. With clenched teeth I met her gaze. "I think this is just going to be my night sweetie" I'd been here before "There's nothing you can do" I gasped through another rage of searing pain. As Blessing walked away I knew this would be a long nightmare of a night. In the grips of pain in the dark, I prayed for the light of day.
Incapacitated by pain and retching, I took to all fours like an animal. This seemed like the best position for the spasms of fluid to be ripped from me. With each searing spasm, I heard an animal howling out into the night. The expressions of extreme pain involuntarily releasing from my body.
After hours of desolate pain, daylight began to dawn sad and grey, bringing me some relief, if not from pain, at least from the vomiting that had been shredding through my soul. Blessing came back into my room. She lifted me from the floor to the arm chair. I leant on the opposite side of the pain whilst she made my bed and helped me back into it. "The doctors will be here soon" she reassured me as intermittent spasms of pain shuddered through my body. Holding onto my side I felt like I was holding on for them to arrive.
"We've heard you had a bad night!" my consultant bellowed whilst looking around the room at the bowls of dark green. I had asked the nurse not to dispose of some of them so that the medics could see. "How many times did you vomit?" he asked aghast. I guessed at 8-10 times. I had lost count. After every few breaths, they could see me spasming with pain. They asked me to describe the pain. They examined me and made a decision. "We must all take a step back!" he commanded to his team. "She will not be discharged today. The patient must return to nil by mouth and must be put back on IV fluids, liquid paracetamol, liquid Buscopan and morphine. The NG tube must be put back in. We need to do a CT scan."
As the NG tube was pushed into me, fluid instantly flooded out bringing me much relief. They administered my medicines quickly. As they made me comfortable my only thoughts were that at least I hadn't been at home with my friend Elisa. I think it would have truly terrified her to see me like that.
Against the clatter and cacophony of hospital noises, I began to black out with the dulling of the pain - perturbed by the thought of being nil by mouth AGAIN, relieved at the thought of a scan.
Surely they would find out what this was.
My gut instincts had been telling me. Something else was happening in in the top left of my bowel. Small bowel obstruction. A separate issue. Not connected to the blocked intestine. They were not one and the same thing.
Some days later, I got a visit from a dear old friend. As I clutched my aching side I related my tale so far. Owen nodded with a cheeky, loving smile. "Yeah mate" he mused, "you're complicated"
