 |
This is right after surgery. I had to memorialize the tube in my nose, which goes down my throat. |
|
|
|
|
|
I am not feeling too well here, but I am actually thrilled that my nose and throat tube has been removed. The previous night had been very rough, as I had the tube down my throat, and dry heaved every hour on the hour all night long. They were giving me nausea medication, but it was not working. Dry heaving caused my nose to bleed terribly so it was a horrendous night and I really wanted to be put out of my misery. Not to mention I had a challenged Nurse's Aide, who really should probably consider a new profession. If I had not been so challenged in my own way that evening, I would have had a few more choice things to say to her. Luckily I couldn't talk very well and spent the time with my head inside my pink basin instead of spewing at her! Said Nurse's Aid in the pic below.

I also had a 98 year old roomie whose name was Gertrude. I learned a lot about her while in the hospital with her. She was the cutest lady and I learned to love how she laughed. But, those first couple of nights, I did not feel so warmly towards her, as everything really got on my nerves. It's rough when you're dry heaving, can't speak, face feels like it is exploding, can't sleep, nurses waking you up every hour, and the best part is that Gertrude's nurse treated her like she could not hear, but she could. So, Anita (the nurse) would speak in this very high pitched tone of voice and sort of draw out everything she said as if she were talking to a baby. But, see I was privy to conversations between Gertrude and her niece who took care of her, and the woman could hear a whisper. Interesting. I had nothing better to do people, except listen to the entertainment around me!
Oh and in case you were wondering why the 98 yr old was in the hospital, she has diverticulitis. But, she could haul her own IV pole to the bathroom herself. She had this habit of going to the bathroom in the middle of the night and would never turn on the light, and she would leave the door open. So, I, in my oxy stupor, would stumble to the bathroom with my own IV pole, and well, it's just too cute to get mad at a 98 yr old taking that much care of herself. I patiently waited in line for the bathroom in my hospital room.

This is the very first picture I took of myself (my photographer had fled). My nose is quite crusty with dried blood. I also had a procedure whereby the doc scraped my nasal passages because mine were 1) too narrow and 2) quite damaged-I believe by allergies, constant blowing?? So, I had very clogged sinuses and still do to some degree. I also have stitches in my sinuses in addition to the stitches on the tops of my gums. I am not allowed to blow my nose, and instead have to breathe the stuff inward to dispose of it.