POST SURGERY DAY 1
I welcomed September 2020 in tears!
My second night in the hospital was spent squirming in pain until I was given my next dose of pain killers. The pain wasn’t from my surgery cut but from my bladder.
Apart from that, I dreaded each time I had to be injected by my Intravenous (IV) antibiotics. The torment of the medicine flowing inside my veins was like tiny liquid bombs exploding inside my hands.
Meanwhile in the outside world, the Covid-19 cases in our towns have multiplied in only a week…
My happy thought for the day was graduating from these liquids to solid food.
POST SURGERY DAY 2
New Covid-19 patients and deaths were registered that day.
That whole night I didn’t sleep. I kept asking for pain killers from the nurses but wasn’t given any. I was drunk with antibiotics and was pee-ing in droplets. The burning urge to urinate was uncontrollable but there was no real flow coming out.
My hospital is located in another town, the hotspot of the growing Covid cases. No visitors were allowed because of the lockdown. Thank God for the slow internet, somehow I had virtual company…
My brother delivered us some food and supplies that day. I found this letter mixed with the stuff he brought. It was so sweet to know he printed this out just incase he gets stopped at any checkpoint.
That afternoon, they had to move my IV needle because my left hand was swollen. Apparently I have tiny veins and that explains why getting blood from me or inserting needles in me can be agonizing. By night time my right hand started to have blisters.
That night, I still couldn’t sleep because I felt the need to pee every 30 minutes. But every time I tried, only a spoonful came out. Thankfully, the nurses were advised to give me painkillers should I ask.
I tried to be productive and work instead, but this gave me more body aches. I had no choice but to stare into space, pray and embrace my pain each time I stood up to pee. It was a long night.
POST SURGERY DAY 3
30 new Covid-19 cases were added to our list that day…After taking some pain killers, I would feel a little bit better for a few hours. My doctors said I could go home the next day if my urination gets better. My cousin, who was stuck with me in the hospital, became excited. Sadly, it was a premature celebration.
My right hand became more swollen and they had to move my IV needle again. After several failed attempts on my left hand, and me howling in pain, they had it on my forearm instead. Until this day, both my hands are still bruised and sore.
That night, my bladder trouble came with a vengeance! Now I felt pain all over my body and I was burning hot from a fever.
My personal “nurse” was exhausted from lifting me up each time I needed to pee, so I let him rest while I sobbed all night. I had to remain standing up until morning because I was pee-ing 5% urine and 95% air every 15 minutes. Both my knees, one still recovering from a torn ACL, were screaming in agony, “You’re too heavy! Stop bending us!”
That night, I thought I was going to die. I said goodbye to my family.
POST SURGERY DAY 4
New people where infected by the virus that day.
The nurses found me drenched in sweat that morning. I was delirious but tried so hard to remain calm and friendly. Inside, I was faint and furious, “Somebody, please make this pain stop!”
I felt my mood slowly go to the extreme. I silently prayed and asked God to deliver me from any explosion or anguish from my Bipolar Disorder.
That morning, the nurses inserted a catheter inside me, TWO TIMES. The first time was a straight catheter to drain my pee once, directly into a container. I had buckets full of urine coming out of me. Everybody was surprised at how much water I had inside! For the first time since my operation, I felt relief!
2 hours later, I felt the same burning pain and this time, no matter how much urge I had to pee, nothing was coming out. It was unbearable! They had to insert another catheter, now with a bag.
The second time around, I was poked many times before that stubborn tube finally went inside me. When the nurses left, I bawled and cried a river! Traumatic experiences from my past came in rapid flashbacks. My whole body was shaking in pain and my brain went on full gear. I remembered my father in the hospital. I remembered abuses. I remembered deaths. I remembered so many things I did not want to remember.
I was being pulled into the dark tunnel. With the last ounce of strength in me, I closed my eyes and prayed that God would deliver me from another depressive episode.
The afternoon was a blur of more tests to find out what was wrong with me.
At night fall, I finally slept. After days of going back and forth the toilet, I finally laid down in my bed. I heard both my knees say, “thank you, thank you!”
Even if the tube inside me vibrated each time I moved, I dozed off until the morning.
You never really get to appreciate the ability to pee until you lose it. Just when I thought I was going to be ok, I didn’t know the worst was yet to come.