Perception under Emergency

When life is proceeding in a balanced, calm way, our perceptions are likewise calm and balanced without too much to challenge one, and things appear to be okay. My awareness came into sharp focus recently when tested in the health aspect of living.

Spending over seven days confined to a bed physically can tax one’s sanity to the limits; not crazy-insane, but I came close when I recently had to go into high care at the hospital for intestine obstruction. There’s nothing like unremitting pain to bring you low! It was a humbling experience.

My Trunk

I spent the first two days in a surgical ward. There I had the most uncomfortable procedure ever, pain aside, in which they thrust a tube through my nose. They did this to suction out stomach gases trapped there due to the obstruction. I thought I’d really lose my mind, and the poor nurses took the flack for my misery, brought on by the pain.

Volcano

A burning sensation in the nose, a throttling feeling in the throat while puking, puking your guts out of an empty stomach turning into a torrent of liquid! Where on earth, or rather in my body, did it all come from? Focused on the cleanup, before they secured a bag with the nose accessory, nobody supplied any answers to my question. And then I’m told that I have to keep the elephantine extension to my tiny nose for 48 hours. It turned out to be an under-statement for obvious reasons–if I’d known it would remain for longer than 48 hours, I’d probably have yanked it out right away. The good doctor knew it would get better as he calmly congratulated me for my co-operation; and this was after I had sprayed him and a nurse with the most horrific contents of my stomach! I stared in confusion, thinking, co-operation? Did I have much choice? He had dutifully explained what he was going to do, and then he did it. Apologies came later!

Settling In

The next day my “trunk” settled in, making me more tolerant of the nurses whom I had blamed for my misery. The good Lord came in for an extensive brow-beating too. What had I ever done that was so bad to deserve this, I asked him repeatedly? He answered with silence–sometimes the best answer. He soon showed me why–no sooner had I said a few calming prayers, instead of ranting, it all subsided. No more pain or puking as the drugs kicked in.

 God works with Doctors

It reminded me of someone saying ‘God works with doctors and medicines to heal’ and I thanked him quietly, taking the silent reprimand humbly. Without doctors, nurses and hospitals I would probably have died a painful death as the body starved and dehydrated; as happens in so many war-torn countries across our borders. In the months preceding this incident, I had lost any appetite for food to the point of surviving mainly on liquids. I had dismissed this as related to my diminished sense of taste that I thought was inevitable with ageing. My body is just old and tired, I’d often explain. The accompanying pain had a purpose though, as no amount of pain killers would mask it, and it finally drove me to seek help in desperation.

Intensive

Intravenous

The stomach and gut were empty, anyway. They introduce intravenous feeding on the third day, and by this time, your body thinks it’s dead. I missed the massages when I returned to the general ward. The daily visit by a physiotherapist who teaches you to move again was a welcome break from the monotony of staring at the ceiling, although my dreams were much more vivid. I once awoke to write in the semi-darkness a story inspired by a dream which fascinated the nurse. She couldn’t imagine I could see in such a poor light. And I didn’t want to disturb the sleeping neighbours. The interaction between patient and nurse is a much more pleasant one than patient and ward nurse. I wondered why this was so? There seems to be a much more rigid protocol in place in the wards.

Independance

However, the ability to once again move away from the all-controlling bed into a bathroom or to take a walk and chat to other patients heralded a return to normality and was most welcome. Thus began the road to recovery.

Diet

My humbling experience helped me realise that no matter how healthy a diet you follow, you are still not in charge. Here, the obstruction grew thirty years before by the healing process of an old operation and the scar tissue from that occasion. If something is wrong with your physical structure, it is best to get it fixed before your perfect diet can be useful.  The people in charge were God and the doctor. God, for guiding me to a doctor who knew his business (so many don’t) and a doctor who successfully removed the obstruction that was starving the body of nourishment. Not forgetting the medical staff who assisted so well. I give thanks daily to God for a successful outcome of this horrific experience.

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Lynda©Rogle