So I was definitely humbled! I thought I was such a bad mother fucker but turns out not as bad as I thought I was. Here I was in a hospital bed recovering for a week. It was a brutal time and I got my ass kicked but we joke about needing a humbling moment. Maybe a little less harsh but nonetheless it was bad to the bone and I’m becoming bad to the bone.
I hate to admit it but I hate two things in this world and they make mediocre sense. The first is ambulances and hospitals, a weird fear I’ve had since I was younger, maybe it’s just leftover as a kid. The second is black toilet seats, an irrational fear for I have no reason why. In recover I got the opportunity to face both of those fears because I was stuck in the hospital and luckily for me, the toilet seat in my bathroom was black. (When my family saw that they were scared it would send me over the edge with the news.) I was still completely buzzed so I couldn’t bother to comment. I was enjoying everything. She ended up even giving me melatonin and something else to really knock me out. I was sitting there like a cold beer on a friday night. I was out coldddd.
Turns out, my body is devious because I was still hyped up. I soon realized how real this was and that my body needed me to be calm. The first night I stayed up all night long. I was tired but the fears overcame me as tough as I wanted to be. I felt like my body wasn’t letting me be the strong person I wanted to be, which was frustrating. But I remembered, being strong doesn’t mean not feeling scared and strength comes in many forms. It’s about facing your fears and getting through a difficult situation that makes you strong.
The hospital symphony kept me up all night! Shook me allll night looonngg. Those darned machines sure were noisy! Every time I drifted off, something would wake me up. There’s a funny saying in my family about “just resting your eyes,” and that first night felt ripped straight from our family album of naps gone wrong. For once, I really didn’t want to be resting my eyes, never thought I’d say that. To really give you a picture, HGTV was as loud as Neptune in the background to drown out the sounds of the beeping equipment (luckily we had no neighbors). And I had these sick compression pants (just saying that to make myself feel better) that quite really jolted me awake everytime they squeezed. It’s really to keep from blood clots but seriously the drugs made everything more amplified. It felt like Old Man Haverstick (an old story my dad made up) was squeezing my legs. It’s really not that bad I was just on super medications, not a kam special. But despite the sleep struggles, I sure am grateful for those beeps and the whole orchestra. And huge thanks to my awesome nurse for putting up with my non stop shenanigan loudmouth wooing and all (she’s the real mvp sorry boss) and random requests throughout the night.
Day one:
Was a rideee. “Who is drivin this buusss”. My Grandma nailed it, calling me “edgy.” Eight hours of anesthesia was crazy. A really good explanation was brought up to me. It’s like my body just shut down and needed to reboot. Like a computer I thought of it as. But especially when it won’t turn on and it’s taking forever and you keep pressing the buttons and then it opens with 500 tabs. It felt like someone flipped the off switch on me, and then restarting took agesss. That day, I had a duo of nurses taking care of me. It felt like every day I had exactly who I needed. They pushed me to get up and I really wanted to get up and walk because I hate feeling helpless. The nurses were incredibly supportive and patient, and with their help, I stood up, even though I almost fainted. The little things, let’s celebrate every accomplishment. Their constant encouragement and knowledge made me feel safe. Getting up was harder than I expected. But then again I thought everything was going to be a piece of cake. It turned out putting the breathing device in through my nose irritated my adenoid, causing swelling and drainage. This made standing even more challenging. We took breaks throughout the day and kept trying, and finally, I made it all the way to a chair! Later, I even managed to walk a short distance. Of course, there were moments of frustration. It took longer than I expected, and it made me realize how much I take walking for granted. It was a humbling experience, reminding me how lucky we are for basic abilities like walking. Reflecting with my grandma later, it hit us both – it had only been one day since my surgery, and I was already walking! That progress was a huge motivator and showed me I was definitely on the right track to recovery. The word of the day is celebrating standing was a different outlook on life, one that I was lucky enough to have come to me.
Day two:
Day two was still a challenge, but I was determined to make progress. I slept well and even felt like a champ graduating to the chair! My goal for the day was to walk further distances and rest in between. However, everything was mentally overwhelming. I couldn’t focus on TV or hold conversations for long periods; sleep was just easier. The amazing nurses helped me walk again. I walked down the hall while my grandma was curbside pick up behind me with the wheelchair. I even managed a short walk in the wheelchair outside (inside) with my Dad to see the sunset. Everything was still super overstimulating as I was still rebooting, after all I hadn’t even shat yet reminding me everything was still processing. It was a calmer day, and I focused on little things, like eating more without needing the feeding tube. Plus, I was motivated to get the catheter out, and my sister even promised a Dunkin’ as a reward! I ended the day with a good night’s sleep, dreaming of all the good things to come.
Day Three:
The spirits were high but day three turned out differently than expected. My body apparently just needed to rest. My Grandma gave me some lovely foot massages, and I spent most of the day sleeping with short walks in between. Then, my sister arrived with a bunch of amazing homemade signs and Dunkin’ – our favorite thing! It was a calm day full of resting and recovering- exactly what I needed. That night something legendary happened, I had a 3am catheter removal- booooyyahhh. I took for granted wiping on my own though. Next goal? To poo. I thought it was goofy when they would listen to my bowel movements and be like “yeah they’re coming back”.
Day Four:
Day four was my turning point! My body finally started cooperating. The goals for the day were having a bowel movement and eating without the feeding tube. My amazing nurse was so encouraging and helped me push through, exactly what I needed. My nurse came in and said “Are you ready for a walk?” so the day began with a brisk walk with nice scenery. I worked on drinking protein shakes and getting buff. My amazing nurse once again “I’ll be back at six for your walk, and make sure you’ve finished your protein shake by then!” True to her word, I managed to accomplish both, she was so great. My Grammy, ever resourceful, had been watching massage videos to improve her technique. And I wanted to poop. So geniously we thought of pressure points. Desperation can lead to some creative solutions, and in this case, it meant researching accupuncture pressure points. My Grammy propped up the phone and followed a video while, let’s just say, I held my breath for dear life. Just then one of my poor doctors walked in on the whole scene. It might have been the placebo effect but I honestly felt like I was going to ship my pants. But a few minutes later, I felt progress! Telling the nurse I gotta poop was…interesting. (Let’s just say my maturity level might have dipped a bit) but like that’s the beautiful thing about Mayo, everyone was in my corner, cheering me on just to poop. It was a strange experience, but in a way, it brought us all a little closer. As my aunt would say, “brownie was just poking his head out”. But hey, even a placebo deserves a little credit! I took a walk to get things flowing and then my Grandma gave me another stimulating foot massage. And voila! Let’s just say things moved along smoothly. I really don’t knowww if it was a placebo effect, I think my grandma did the trick. Sorry to the nurse who witnessed my struggle – I was determined to earn that “bathroom independence” credit. I ended up overfilling the bedpan, but the nurse reassured me she’d seen worse (although I’m not sure if she was entirely truthful!). Let me tell you, though, wiping a bowel movement (professional) is a whole different experience compared to frontal. We all became closer, you really just gotta do what you gotta do and I was so grateful everyone was willing to help. We really always joke about saying “I’d wipe your butt for you” but my people actually meant it. Get you people who’d REALLY wipe your butt. Regardless, things were moving in the right direction, and I was ready to absolutely tackle the next day!
Day five:
Christmas Eve arrived, and I was ecstatic – I was going home tomorrow! My next mission was to conquer the shower. Let’s just say I was overdue for a good scrub, and getting that feeding tube out was a priority for me. It felt strange needing help with something as basic as a shower, but recovery is recovery! Honestly, though, it was kind of chill to have someone bath me. I was happily chugging down fluids all day and my doctors came in. Kinda unserious but really serious, I asked them to take out the feeding tube, and to my surprise, they actually did it right then and there! I couldn’t believe it – the feeding tube was out, and I was leaving the hospital the next day. It felt like a Christmas miracle! The last night was fun. One of the nurses even showed us pictures of her adorable dogs and airplaned me delicious applesauce. To my surprise the feeding tube out meant crushed pills with applesauce and dieherra from unlawful amounts of liquid medicine. So I took shots of medicine and made it fun of course, the nurses hyped me up. The amazing nurses were always there to cheer me on and keep my spirits high, something you don’t get everywhere. And a 1-3 ratio at Mayo is something I was super grateful for.
THE BIG DAY:
Discharge day finally arrived, and I was so stoked! Waking up that morning felt like Christmas morning. They removed all the drains, monitoring equipment, and put on a new cast (the process was fascinating), and the discharge paperwork was handled quickly by the amazing staff at Mayo. One of the things that truly impressed me was the incredible patient care. Doctors, nutritionists, a hand therapist, and even a dentist – they all came to see me at my convenience, ensuring I received the best possible care. It meant the world to me. The nurse actually let me walk out of the hospital! That’s not something that happens everywhere, and I was incredibly grateful. Leaving the hospital on my own feet and feeling healthy again filled me with immense gratitude for everyone who helped me get there. Of course, no celebratory day is complete without a little planning for the future. Seeing a Porsche sparked my fire and a stop at McDonald’s for a lukewarm blue drink hit the spot. The cherry on top was my amazing aunt traveled ten whole hours just to be with us. I mean things were good and fun. Her visit was a welcome distraction and a great way to gain a different perspective. She even brought me Dunkin’ Donuts – the perfect way to unwind for the weekend.
Thank you for joining me!
Kam
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