So after a short stay in the surgical recovery unit I was transferred to a ward. My epidural had been removed and I had a morphine pump. I still had as I recall the NG tube, wound drain and catheter. I was doing OK, although I was being given TPN – this is when you are given all your nutrients through a drip, as I was unable to eat to allow the bowel to rest. I’m sure I must have been getting better because I remember asking for strawberry flavour – this could be my first ‘morphine talking’ comment (there have been a few over the years).
I think it was a Monday I was moved to the ward. I was visited each morning by the consultant. On Wednesday morning the consultant came around about 8.30am as usual, and I was OK. By about 11am I was shivering uncontrollably, and the nurses summoned the consultant back. I think I had been allowed sips of water by a junior member of the team at this point, and I remember the curtain being pulled back around my bed and the consultant dressing down the whole team about this, and then telling the nurse in charge that from that point on only he was to make decisions about my care.
Much is hazy for me of that day which my mother refers to as Black Wednesday. I think I started to vomit lots. I was taken back to surgery – my bowel had kinked and I had developed septicaemia from the TPN needle. So my big long incision was re-opened, and it was back to square one – with more complications to come…
This blog post is part of a series I’m writing in the run up to my stoma surgery in January 2015. If you’ve found it interesting, please do share it, and if you can, supported CCUK & the ia by donating at my Virgin Money Giving pageĀ http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/RichardHarris19