Jolly Rancher Sweet Tea
tldr: hopefully home by Saturday
They removed the NG tube from my nose to my stomach on Sunday night - Actually let me do the pulling. Gross and satisfying. Tube removal is a big step. Without the tube down your throat, they let you swallow things. Things like water and juice and maybe even someday (if you're good) hospital food.
Then Monday was really hard. All the little pokes/prods/interruptions/procedures become overwhelming. We've been waiting for days for my ostomy to produce some output so we can proceed to a clear liquid diet. Any kind of diet sounds good. Here's a consumption summary over the first 11 days of my stay:
6 Jolly Ranchers 3 Werthers Original Caramel Hard Candies 4 popsicles, each more disgusting than the previous 1 teeny orange Gatorade (spread out over 36 hours, each iced sip treasured)
The docs want to run a CT scan to check to see if there are any abscesses or infections in my abdomen that need attention and could explain the delay in ostomy output. They've spent the past 2 days filling me with fluid via IV to try and get my creatinine levels down. When those levels are low enough, they can use the contrast solution during the CT without fear of kidney injury.
On Monday, my creatinine levels are finally low enough at 1.0 to run the CT. All I have to do is please chug this liter of oral contrast solution in the next 60 minutes.
I have been craving ice water for a week. With all the fluids in my body, that craving had subsided somewhat. I've got no choice other than to start drinking. It tastes terrible. This is going to be a long hour. A nearby friend offers to stop in, and I think 'sure - that will be helpful to have someone there to cheer me on a bit - only 1 thing I need to do for the next hour'.
And then the ostomy nurse arrives before my friend. Docs have asked her to change my bag and insert a rubber hose into my ostomy to maybe allow trapped things to escape. I have no mental capacity left for this. After a small display of reluctance, I present my soft underbelly and submit. It isn't painful, but it's just one more bite out of my withered sense of self. Clown nose red rubber tube poking out of me, the end coiled into the bag.
We're able to visit for a short while before the docs come strolling in. They poke and gander at the tube they had asked for, and swiftly depart to the OR for someone else. They say what I've consumed so far is sufficient. I'm the private who's already dropped and given 'em 50 - Meh, 40 is enough. Take a break.
Chugging leaves me bloated and slightly nauseous. I'm also mentally connecting this task with the failed bowel prep from the day before surgery. Now, we wait for the CT room to call us down. My nurse figures it'll be about an hour.
At this point, I'm tapped out. I sit and read a book and close in on myself. One of the junior doctors comes back and says they don't really like the hose, they want to pull it out. Fine. Don't expect eye contact or social energy. He does a lousy job, pulling it from one end without securing the end about to exit my body. There's a little wobble and spittle of shit when the other end comes out, but we pay no major consequences for his inept technique. He leaves, saying 'CT soon'. It's 3PM.
Finally at 4PM, which is 4 full hours after my chug sprint, they bring me to get the CT. I'm weak, mentally and physically. How do you feel? I'm on day 11 of a 3 day hospital stay, Ms. CT Tech.
Return from the CT, lay around in bed. In pops Karen. This is the 2nd time that day she has surprise visited me - There are so few nice surprises in the hospital, and I'm grateful for these hits of dopamine. That said, I'm blown and broken and cry a little. Get it together somewhat and talk a bit. Then another friend who works at Duke stops in. More conversation. Karen takes a look at her phone, seems struck. She looks at us, and says 'I have to go - My PCR test just came back positive.'
So, no more surprise visits from my wife. No more visits from her at all, really - Depending on how long our respective healing processes take. All in all, a lousy day.
As night falls, I'm staring down the barrel of passing 12 hours sleepless. The beds here have some amazing technology that adjusts the pressure under every point of contact with your body. They seem to have optimized the tech to sense when you are slightly comfortable and then fix that.
Even though I am still not cleared to consume anything (yes, even water) by mouth, I figure that's coming in the morning. My stomach is still in knots after the contrast chug. Fuck it, I want just a little sweet tea. Amble to the poorly guarded coffee making station, make one hot tea, use 4 sugar packets. Pour some over ice. Pretty good! Add another packet. Repeat 2x, until all 6 packets are gone into a sloshing belly full of sweet tea. It was about the only pleasure I was able to squeeze out of the day.
Back to the room, and night doc stops in. Bitch about my back pain and soft bed. Minutes later, the doc is able to find one in a hall that looks firmer. Midnight bed change? Can't be worse. I've already tried jamming one of the shelves from the linen closet under my lower back (to limited success). Probably not going to sleep anyway with all that tea in me.
But the nurse comes thru and times things to leave me alone. I get almost 4 hours of continuous sleep, more than any day in the past 10. And my ostomy produces something overnight, which means the docs are able to put me on at least clear liquid diet when they stop by at 7AM. They also say the CT scan looks good, no surprises.
It's a new day, and we're turning the corner. I want a sweet tea to celebrate. But there's no damn sugar. Nurses can't find any, no one is coming to re-stock. I want 6 packs of sugar, and frankly don't think it should be that hard. A nurse assistant lies when they say it's coming. Finally breakfast arrives. No doubt that some of you have eagerly anticipated the 'complaining about hospital food' portion of this tale, so here it is. The right hand side of the tray is soaked in melted Italian ice juice. In the middle of this syrupy mess are 2 mostly unusable sugar packets.
Take an inventory - Jolly Ranchers are sugar. So are Werthers caramels. So I go brew a hot watermelon caramel sweet tea and pour it over ice. There is no doubt the ordeal of the past 10 days has wildly warped my sense of taste. I'll drink that again, tho. May even serve it at parties.
Still not sure when I'll get out of here. I need them to move me into solid foods, and they want to see those solid foods exit the body. My surgeon is headed to Egypt for a couple of weeks, which means I'll be meeting someone new Wednesday morning. I'd guess Saturday AM, but we'll see.
But I think I'm thru the worst of it. It's been tremendously traumatic. I'm probably both tougher and more sensitive than when I came in. Looking forward to getting out.
~Ed