The Blurred Line

Day 26 - a frustating day

I should probably apologise for yesterday's post. I think by the end it got a bit rambling and quite ketamine fuelled. I also need to make an edit (noticed by Dave) that we established how JT is Chuck Norris: the secret is not sleeping and never taking off makeup!

Today was such a beautiful day. I've just watched the sun set which has painted the patchwork of extensions on top of the buildings in front of my window with an amber glaze – a fiery film coating some of the dodgiest planning permission I have ever seen. The sky had that rainbow effect with the red of the horizon fading steadily into the cool blue which becomes the night – admittedly with a grey haze but you can't get away with clear air when you live with more than 8 million other people. The sea gulls – just as rodent-like as pigeons – and even the constant stream of planes to Heathrow are suddenly transformed into golden eagles

At night, London doesn't have any stars in the sky; the pollution of the stars on the Earth see to that. London is almost as glorious a night time as it is during the day with its twinkling lights, mainly red, white and orange, vaguely reminiscent of Christmas lights. Everything looks lit up toy houses that could stop around in like Godzilla. It never looks still.

Today as indeed a beautiful day but I was stuck in here which has precipitated a day of frustration. Not only did I just want to be in one of the pubs by the canal but also it gets incredibly hot in here even though the heating isn't on. With the curtains open, the sun beats in but with the curtains closed, a greenhouse effect occurs.

Mum was ill today, the poor thing! I feel so bad and love her so much and miss her. She sent her replacement: Susanna – or more accurately for washing: Susanna and her nails! We managed though and had a bit of a laugh too but Susanna was not impressed with washing my bum!

In the morning, my epidural was taken out – freedom!!! Or at least ¼ free. I still had the two drains and catheter in me. Since the epidural was the nerve block, coming off the epidural meant that I would experience sensation and pain again in the stump and the pain would have to be brought under control accordingly. The original plan was to take it out yesterday but thankfully, with their computer system under maintenance and all my friends coming, they didn't.

I did have a little slip in the morning. Other patients were complaining, whether necessarily or unnecessarily is debatable, about pain and I don't know why it took me back to the moment and then the 40 minutes of uncontrolled pain with the feeling of my floppy ankle on top of my good leg. I hate how sometimes I just find it very hard to be sympathetic when we have all been through so much pain but the other ladies on the ward can feel their two legs. I won't feel or wiggle the toes on my right foot again.

To be honest, the afternoon started off pretty lazy. I was just doing colouring in and Dad and Susanna were just on their phones. Unfortunately for Nan and Grandad, I had just started a nap that went on for about two hours when they turned up. When I did wake up, it took me a little while to register that there was increasing pain. Before I could call the nurse to ask for more painkillers, my uncle Jim, aunt Vi and cousin Rosie came to visit. It is always a pleasure seeing them and Rosie is really growing up into a dashing young lady but it was just a bit ill-timed. I didn't want to worry them by asking for painkillers and these painkillers were not your standard paracetamol. Instead, I lay, tired and in pain and unfortunately hoping that their visit would be a fleeting one. I felt, and still feel, dreadful for thinking this. I also felt dreadful for not putting a show that I can do if I'm still uncomfortable and for not entertaining them but I just couldn't this time.

Unfortunately, I then snapped at my Nan a bit which I feel awful for. She just kept on persistently asking if I would like a grape or if I was alright and I stupidly said yes to her question, "are you uncomfortable?" I quickly followed this with, "I'm fine, sorry, I'm fine." Luckily, I think my kind aunt picked up that I was not I the right state for visitors and let us have five more minutes of chatter before making their excuses to leave. It was really kind of her whether she knew it or not.

I called for the nurse to ask for painkillers but I think the message must have got lost in transit the first time so I still had Nan for a while staring at me – lovingly I should say – like before whilst I tried to rest my eyes a bit to get away from the pain. I can't remember exactly how it all started but Nan asking the same questions again and then Dad saying something just snapped me to the point where I just kept saying, "Pretend I'm not here! Pretend I'm not here!" As my grandad tried to take my nan away for me, she got irate with him so they had a bit of spat about me which again I felt dreadful about. Then again, my nan didn't remember the incident five minutes later, which is where a lot of the problems stem from in the first place.

I asked them all if I could phone my mum in private after the nurse came to give my ketamine and I told her that my catheter was sensitive. It was a bit of an emotional phone call. I told that I just can't escape from this bed and this room and that I just want some fresh air. All day the lady opposite who kept pulling off her collar was relentlessly troublesome. Luckily she's asleep now so hopefully she's worn herself out. It was funny at first but now it's beyond a joke and just awful! She stares at me too, imploring me to come over and take off her bandages. It doesn't help that her eyes are quite intense and the white and black of her hair is reminiscent of Cruella de Ville. I can't come over, I'm a bleeding patient too without a leg to stand on! (pun intended)

I have spoken too soon.

Mum sorted me out though and told me to ask to get the catheter removed. Basically, last night I managed to sleep on my front (another something I haven't done in almost a month) and in the morning I turned the other way back onto my back. In the process, I managed to tangle up my catheter and one of my drains which meant I had to do a 360 degree roll to untie them. Sounds simple but as me and Susanna were attempting this, I must have pulled on my catheter and dislodged it a bit. I was a bit worried that there was blood in my catheter but the doctors weren't particularly concerned. However, after my nap in the afternoon, I became quite uncomfortable.

Sinead, the nurse who checked the catheter, asked for a doctor to decide on the removal who said I could have it removed. Fienna (I probably haven't spelt her lovely name right) was fantastic and gave me advice on the dilemma of the situation. On the one hand, they could take the catheter out so I wouldn't be in discomfort but then in the night I would probably have to use bed pans which would be bad for my bed sores as for weeing, the bed pan gets quite far back. On the other hand, I wouldn't have the more important problem of the bed sores and we could just tape the catheter to my thigh to make it more comfortable. I have to admit I was a bit pathetic and couldn't stop myself having a bit of a breakdown because of the discomfort of the thing.

In the end, we decided to take it out and Fienna let me take it out myself which was sore but immediately more comfortable. She showed me how it worked. After you put it in, you push saline through it which inflates a little blag like a balloon so it can't go back out again. To take the catheter out, the saline is syringed out through the tube and the balloon deflates so it can slip out easily. Nifty!

Unfortunately, Nana and Grandad decided to leave just as al this finished and Susanna and Dada set me up for the night before I really need to wee. Fienna had said that I needed to wee tonight or they would have to put the catheter back in so I drank over a litre in about 5 minutes. I was absolutely desperate but managed to hang on until Aurora saved me and got a commode. The problems with prolonged use of catheters include urinary infection, temporary incontinence and not being able to wee. Somehow I have just about managed to have none of those yet. It was so difficult to manoeuvre in that luckily she has left it next to me so I should be avoiding bed pans tonight.

Sorry to go into intimate detail but I'm not sure those of you who have not experienced prolonged time using a catheter will appreciate just how fantastic it is to pee again. At least, it very much was for me.

Leaving you on that night, hope you have a very good night, thanks for reading and you're continued support and donate to Mountain Rescue Torridon and Kinlochewe.