Muted celebrations of the simple things in life: Day 12

simple things 2

Over the last few days I am acting a little more cautious and my celebrations of ‘get Trisha the heck out of hospital milestones’ are somewhat muted. It is within this context that we recount Day 12 (yes day 12) since the operation (hurray, smiley face. I don’t really like emoticons outside of social media), and day 12 in hospital (really, 12 days? She must be going out of her mind? Correct).

Health Rating: 6/10

Mental Health Rating (where 1 means sane and 10 means mental): 8/10

Day 12

–          CPS (Child Plastic Surgeon for any newbies) comes to see me at 7.30 am. He is either a) scared of me because I shout at him all the time, or b) punishing me because I shout at him all the time.

He says the left drain that has been in my body for 12 days (yes 12 days!) can come out.

–          I go get a coffee in my hospital gowns, pushing my IV and carrying my drain bags. One of the drains is so long and the fluid inside is so yellow it looks like a catheter. Everyone smiles at me. Pity smiles!

–          Silver-fox Plastic Surgeon comes to see me. He is sporting a healthy, tired look that can only have been achieved through water sports and beach walks with chilled white wine chasers on the veranda each night of the Easter break. These tired eyes are brought out by a deep, mahogany tan that even Australian’s wouldn’t frown at.

He confirms that the left drain can come out and switches my IV antibiotics or oral. Main benefits of this:

  • I can walk around without pushing my 6 foot friend (the IV)
  • I can take off the gowns
  • I can wash

Downsides:

  • People will invariably stop pity smiling at me and just wonder why I’m wearing an adult baby-grow?

–          The nurse comes to remove my left drain. The incision site looks like an angry, inflamed, teenage piercing (I had plenty of these so I know). She then goes to take it out and I swear it’s grown feet the thing’s been festering in my body for so long (did I mention anything about 12 days?). So she has to give it a good yank, I feel its claws dislodge, it comes out. I never want to see it again.

–          MT comes to see me. I have a smaller visiting pool now as I’m too tired and unpleasant to entertain anyone who doesn’t have to be my friend due to longevity. When I wake up, high on the news that Hollyoaks is coming to Aus, we both watch a round-up episode that introduces me to all the latest characters and their story lines. See below footnotes for more information on Hollyoaks.

–          Mr F comes to see me – HURRAY! He brings Vietnamese. We watch the first episode of Game of Thrones Season 3.

And those are the highlights of Day 12. There is a lot of talk of ‘home’, but this is causing me different levels of optimism and distress for reasons I’ll discuss in Day 13.

p.s. one of the search terms that led someone to my site yesterday was ‘Intimacy hot boob play’. Ah ha ha ha! How disappointed they must have been. Ha ha. Insert smiley emoticon 🙂

Hollyoaks

Hollyoaks is a UK soap opera set in the fictional town of Chester.

It only features incredibly attractive actors between the ages of about 15 – 28. They may be attractive, but on the whole they are very common. For those in the UK (who probably know Hollyoaks anyway) by common I mean chavvy, Australians, I mean bogan.

Anyone who is not attractive or falls outside the above descriptor is what is known as a token character. Examples of token characters may include:

–          Not attractive people

–          Overweight people

–          Ordinary looking people

–          Old people

–          Crazy people e.g. cult leaders or murderers

When I was in the UK, Hollyoaks was on about 5 nights a week, which was then re-shown as an omnibus on Sunday morning. Hungover, me and my friends, or my brother’s friends, or just me, would eat a bacon sandwich and watch Hollyoaks for the majority of Sunday morning. It was ace.

One Down One to Go: Expulsion of a Post-Mastectomy Drain Revealed

Well someone or something has to get out of here at some point. And if it can’t be me, it may as well be my right drain.

donald-trump-youre-fired

After Smeg-Gate yesterday, my fluid secretion on my right-side decreased a lot. Despite 4 Drs telling me it would come out tomorrow, the big honcho, plastic surgeon boss over-ruled them all and ordered it to be expelled immediately!

A couple of things you should know before I go on. Drain-Gate is still in full swing and despite the smeg from my left side becoming much paler in colour, the fluid levels are still pretty high. Even higher than yesterday. So I’m still quite upset about this as it means, as my Drs bugger off for Easter (I don’t know if they all are yet but I reckon they will), I am definitely here until at least Monday, maybe even Tuesday! 12 days! I wouldn’t spend that long on holiday in Port Douglas and I really like that place.

The other thing I need to warn you about is, what you are about to see is pretty gross. I’m not going to go on about it for ages, but the following pictures may upset you,especially if you are currently devouring an Easter Egg. You have been warned.

Expulsion of a Post-Mastectomy Drain Revealed

Low fluid levels… check. Hurrah.

Drain

Empty suction ball…check. Gross but yey!

Bubble

Part of the drain that was very much INSIDE my body – check out the stitch that was attached to my body to see how long it is. It’s about 6 inches. And a real 6 inches gentlemen, thank you very much.

innertube

And here, a little bit blurry, is the hole in my arm-pit where the drain resided. Apparently it closes in 24 hours. I said to my lovely nurse, “a bit like a tongue ring?”. She couldn’t confirm or deny this, and to be honest I’m 33, what do I know about tongue rings?

armpithole

And at the end of all this, I am left with this rather fetching drain bag, currently up for grabs to the highest bidder.

Drainbag