As I regained consciousness following my bout in the O.R., I realized that I was now in the recovery room. Any time spent here is kinda like purgatory. It is not something that most people remember well, if at all. It's where your body begins recovering from some of the necessary brutalities visited upon it during surgery. No, that is not something I would want a copy of on DVD. Being even remotely cognizant of what my injuries were and what might have been required to rectify these, I have no desire to view such a horror show.
As I lay there, unmoving, I let my mind slowly drift through my body, stopping at different points to examine how they felt. My shoulder was the primary area of concern. It was sore, yes... but it felt 'normal'. I breathed a sigh of relief as I realized I could now feel my arm, wrist, hand, fingers... I wiggled them slowly against the warm, heated blankets which covered me. There was no added sensation of pain.
Through the bandages on my arms I could feel the road rash, but it was more than manageable. Hell... at this stage it was actually comfortable. My knee? I could feel it but no pain. I did feel thirsty, though... I closed my eyes and drifted off again, revelling in the feel of those heated blankets and the warmth they provided. I hovered in this 'in and out' state for some time. On the last occasion I had of coming to, the nurse was bending over my gurney. We chatted briefly and she asked if I felt like I was ready to return to the ward. I told her that I was and she went to summon an orderly to bring me back upstairs.
As we reached the sixth floor, I was greeted by my spouse and both of my daughters and their men. I was somewhat surprised by this reception, as it was by now 0300hrs. on Monday morning. We spent some time together, during which I did my best to convince them that I was not yet done for. I was very happy to have seen them. The time came for them to part and for me to resume my resting. I dozed, only to be awoken every couple of hours, for either meds of vitals. So began what was to become my ritual for the next four and a half days.
I was finally released home from the OGH on Friday, 25 July. The saga continues.
As I lay there, unmoving, I let my mind slowly drift through my body, stopping at different points to examine how they felt. My shoulder was the primary area of concern. It was sore, yes... but it felt 'normal'. I breathed a sigh of relief as I realized I could now feel my arm, wrist, hand, fingers... I wiggled them slowly against the warm, heated blankets which covered me. There was no added sensation of pain.
Through the bandages on my arms I could feel the road rash, but it was more than manageable. Hell... at this stage it was actually comfortable. My knee? I could feel it but no pain. I did feel thirsty, though... I closed my eyes and drifted off again, revelling in the feel of those heated blankets and the warmth they provided. I hovered in this 'in and out' state for some time. On the last occasion I had of coming to, the nurse was bending over my gurney. We chatted briefly and she asked if I felt like I was ready to return to the ward. I told her that I was and she went to summon an orderly to bring me back upstairs.
As we reached the sixth floor, I was greeted by my spouse and both of my daughters and their men. I was somewhat surprised by this reception, as it was by now 0300hrs. on Monday morning. We spent some time together, during which I did my best to convince them that I was not yet done for. I was very happy to have seen them. The time came for them to part and for me to resume my resting. I dozed, only to be awoken every couple of hours, for either meds of vitals. So began what was to become my ritual for the next four and a half days.
I was finally released home from the OGH on Friday, 25 July. The saga continues.
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