After getting over the initial shock of no longer being on a catheter, I managed to pull myself up off the floor. Just as I was doing this, a stern looking doctor enters the room with a nurse. Tapping his clipboard with a pen, and reading what I imagine was my report of the past five days, he begins grilling the poor nurse. After a load of questions which the nurse did a good job of answering, he FINALLY acknowledged my presence in the room. He explained that I would now be leaving the CDU a.k.a my windowless prison, and be moved to ward. My heart sank a little, I was half hoping that he would tell me I was good to go home.
The nurse began packing my stuff, while she asked for someone to bring a wheelchair around. Part of me felt like saying I could walk, but given the fact my body was weak, and I was more prone to belly flopping the floor again, I decided against it. I was helped into a wheelchair, and moved onto ward, which felt like a surprisingly long journey. My reaction to the room once we arrived? OMG! It had a massive window, CLEAN sheets and a SHOWER! *Cue the sounds of heaven*. Oh, and a TV attached to the bed. YES! The nurse then told me to get onto the bed, so I could be reconnected to the monitors. I remember pulling the saddest face ever, and asking if I could have a shower before being put back on charge like some hybrid zombie robot. She took pity on me and told me to call her once I was done! *Yep, at 22, my puppy face still got it ;)*
Now can I just say, from this whole experience I have learnt the value of a shower. Feeling clean is something we all definitely take for granted. The shower itself was awkward to have as I still had a cannula in my right hand, which was swollen and numb from earlier. I didn’t care though! Using one hand I shampooed and showered and finally got to put on some clean clothes. I felt like one of those women from the laundry ads where they dance around in their clean clothes with weird amounts of joy. But, I get it now. I get it. So, just as I was about to leave, that’s when I noticed it. By IT, I mean my reflection. For the past 5 days, how I looked was the last thing on my mind. BUT, it was my hair. Now, in place of my almost black hair, was a streak of white hairs. I looked like I was preparing for Halloween! I would later find out, this was one of the side effects of Septic Shock.
I got back into bed, with my fresh sheets, whilst the nurse plugged me back into everything. On the bright side, she said I would not be hooked up to a drip for a while as my blood pressure wasn’t as low as before. She also stressed the importance of drinking water to maintain my normalish blood pressure. Not wanting to have the drip again, I told her I would drink as much as I could. After about two glasses, over three hours my stomach bloated. Not long after, I found myself vomiting up water as it was just too much for my body. Great. I was rejecting something as simple as water.
The nurse came in for her rounds, and after checking my blood pressure, said it had dropped again. So yep, she put me back on the drip. I told her about my water vomit, and she called in a doctor who gave me some tablets to try. In short, I was told I may not be able to leave until:
- I can eat without throwing up.
- Have normal blood pressure.
- Pass another few blood tests.
So, at this point, I felt like I was going to be here FOREVER. But hey, it wasn’t that bad, I had sunlight (all be it England’s rainy weather), clean sheets, a shower and a TV.
Check back next week for the final part! 🙂