Chronically Me

Chapter Four

The next morning the doctors did their usual rounds. As this was a teaching hospital my consultant, Dr Jamil had a posy of medical students eagerly scribbling down notes after every word he spoke.

When they arrived at my bed he turned to the students and asked a small blonde girl called 'Abi' to describe my case.

"Erm, so this is Clara Higgins, she was diagnosed with chronic ulcerative colitis at the age of 14, which is inflammation of the bowel. She's been on several medications including Aminosalicylates, Corticosteroids and immunosuppressants. She's also previously been hospitalized on several occasions and received Ciclosporin and Infliximab. She also takes the anti-anxiety medication Buspirone.

"Despite the use of a wide array of medication Clara still experienced regular flare ups, which were often very severe. So, six months ago after a routine colonoscopy the decision was made to perform an ileostomy. Due to complications with the first surgery earlier in the week, Clara underwent emergency surgery yesterday morning to correct the placement of the small intestine, which we think was successful.

"As of this morning there has been no stall passed, but this is not unusual less than 24 hours after the surgery," 'Abi' spoke confidently. I was impressed, she was the first minion to correctly name all the drugs I'd been given over the years. She'd obviously read my records in a lot of detail. The day after my first operation a guy called 'Calvin' blubbered and stuttered when Dr Jamil asked him questions about my condition. I almost felt sorry for him, but he obviously hadn't read my file so he could only blame himself.

Dr Jamil thanked her for the information and turned to assess my charts. As everything appeared normal, he allowed me to have a small amount of yoghurt for breakfast, but he said I'd have to keep the tube up my nose until there was some stoma activity and we knew the intestine was connected properly. I was just relieved to be allowed some food, I hadn't had any proper food since before the second operation.

I asked for the yoghurt to be dairy free. I hadn't eaten dairy in a long time. My doctor and I decided I should limit it in my diet a year after my diagnosis, as we thought it could be a trigger. Technically I could eat anything I wanted now, but old habits die hard and it would take a while to adjust.

Once the doctor and his posy had moved on the nurse came over and helped me out of bed and into some comfortable and lose casual clothes. For me, this comprised of a pair of lose black sweatpants and an over-sized grey t-shirt. Not exactly a sexy look that makes the boys wink, but it was better than wearing the hideous hospital gown. The nurse then helped lower me into the chair beside my bed. Sitting in a chair was better than laying in bed apparently.

I had no idea what time Harry planned on arriving, so I decided to set up my iPad and watch a film. One film turned into two and when it reached 2PM I began to suspect that Harry may have bailed. I hadn't received any text messages and I began to feel stupid for believing that he actually wanted to see me. I was a broken girl with a bag of shit attached to her after all. Not that he knew that.

The nurse had been pestering me all day about going for a walk around the hospital. She kept blabbing on and on about how it would aid my recovery. I knew what she was saying was true, but I wanted to wait and walk with Harry. However, I think after the third time I said I was waiting for a friend, she began to think I was lying. Heck, I was beginning to doubt myself. In my delirious pain-stricken state had he just been a figment of my imagination. Had I just been talking to myself? However, logic told me this was untrue, and I had the note and text messages to prove it.

At 3PM I finally gave into my nurses walking demands. She slowly helped me to my feet and steadied me as I bit back the pain that spread through my abdomen. I then began to cough, gasping and clutching my stitches, terrified that I'd rip them. The nurse reassured me that it was just my lungs trying to get back to normal after the general anaesthetic.