{"id":556,"date":"2013-05-07T08:24:25","date_gmt":"2013-05-07T07:24:25","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/jordantheheadcase.wordpress.com\/?p=556"},"modified":"2024-06-01T11:18:07","modified_gmt":"2024-06-01T11:18:07","slug":"how-to-have-a-nice-recovery-after-a-nasty-surgery-with-a-little-help-from-your-friends","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/jordantheheadcase.com\/index.php\/2013\/05\/07\/how-to-have-a-nice-recovery-after-a-nasty-surgery-with-a-little-help-from-your-friends\/","title":{"rendered":"Living with hydrocephalus: How to have a nice recovery after a nasty surgery (with a little help from your friends)"},"content":{"rendered":"

I found myself thinking about recovering from surgery this week as my landlord (who lives in the property right next to mine) had a fall and ended up in hospital (he’d had a heart attack at the end of last year and a surgery to insert a stent).\u00a0 He said he was still finding things a little tiring since his surgery and didn’t know why. I reminded him that he’d been through a heck of a lot (he’s 78) and it would take time to get all his puff back and to just take it easy so as not to overly exert himself.\u00a0 As I said this to him, I could literally feel the big alter-me rising up like a large inflatable blimp from my being, floating above my head, pointing at me and shouting ‘hypocrite!’ in a big boomy voice.\u00a0 Me giving advice on recovering and taking things easy is like a heavy smoker advising another smoker on what they should be doing to quit.\u00a0 I have met many, many fellow patients in my months spent on the ward and out of all of them I have never, ever met anyone as impatient as me when it comes to recovery. But I have<\/em> got better (well, I think!) recently so I thought it might be wise to share recovery thoughts\/experiences as it is something that lots of patients who are just out of surgery ask me about.\u00a0 Recovery is hugely important, both physically and mentally.\u00a0 It gives you a sense of moving forwards and leaving the bad stuff behind you.\u00a0 It’s also the bit that people can pay little attention to; often all the focus is on the surgery itself.\u00a0 The surgery is important of course, but that’s down to someone else; getting over it is up to you.
\nWhen a shunt is throwing a bit of a hissy fit and playing up, it can feel as though the majority of one’s life is spent either in hospital or in recovery.\u00a0 Because of where the shunt is, major surgery can be a rather frequent occurrence and obviously the recovery time for this isn’t exactly a couple of weeks.\u00a0 This requires a lot of patience when it’s a fairy regular event.\u00a0 I am not a patient patient.\u00a0 I am often told (by my parents, friends, surgeons and numerous other healthcare professionals) to rest up and get better following a surgery or even if I’m just having a few bad days.\u00a0 This is because those who know me well know that I have tendency to run before I can walk when it comes to recovery.\u00a0 I just can’t stand lying in bed!\u00a0 Even when I’ve been really ill, so much so that just turning my head a fraction of an inch causes relentless pounding in my head and the room to spin on its axis, I visualise being up, well, back at work and socialising again.\u00a0 I don’t think this is any bad thing; in fact, I swear it helps me recover much faster than many of my fellow hospital wardians if past stays are anything to go by.\u00a0 I remember Mr Watkins once coming round to see me on the evening of the day he’d operated on me to see how I was getting along.\u00a0 He stopped at the foot of my bed and started to laugh.\u00a0 I was sitting up in bed, sipping a cup of tea and chatting to my parents.\u00a0 I stopped mid-sip and asked him why he was laughing.\u00a0 His registrars were also laughing; at me.\u00a0 This might have made me paranoid had I now known that they’re all lovely people and would never stand there and purposefully laugh at a patient.\u00a0 But obviously something had tickled them.\u00a0 He explained what it was; ‘You’re supposed to look worse<\/em> immediately after a major brain surgery,\u00a0 not better!\u00a0 And you’re certainly not supposed to be sitting up in bed drinking tea and chatting’.
\n‘Ah.\u00a0 Should I be lying down looking like a ghost and unable to move then?’.
\n‘Yes!’.
\nNot quite my style.\u00a0 I’ve always been a bit of a nightmare for the post-surgical nurses.\u00a0 The very first surgery I had, when my shunt was inserted,\u00a0\"surgery\"<\/a> I sat up all night after being returned to the ward from the recovery room as I genuinely wasn’t sleepy and was fascinated by what had just happened; I’d never had a surgery before, not even my tonsils out and here I was having just had brain surgery<\/em>!\u00a0 I was seriously impressed with myself (this sense of self-amazement was helped along with a lot of morphine).\u00a0 I rocked!\u00a0 So I sat up all night long to chat to the not-really-busy-with-seriously-ill-patients-at-all nurses, all of whom repeatedly told me (very kindly) to sleep and get some rest.\u00a0 Every single one of the eighteen surgeries I’ve had since has been the same.\u00a0 As soon as I wake up, I want to get up.\u00a0 One time I managed to get off my bed only five minutes after having been brought back to the ward and walk – not take the lift – five floors down to the basement cafe because I fancied a cup of tea.\u00a0 This was also after too much morphine (morphine is dangerous for me; it makes me vomit constantly for hours and also makes me think I am absolutely fine and can go for a walk around the hospital – the combination of these two factors is, naturally, a disaster).\u00a0 My greatly confused nurse who had just brought me back from recovery returned from getting the blood pressure machine to take my obs to find my bed completely empty.\u00a0 She checked the loo; nothing.\u00a0 She checked the whole ward; nothing.\u00a0 The alarm was raised and I was found eventually in the basement after reaching the cafe and suddenly realising that I felt very sick and very weak.\u00a0 I may have been very ill but I got a real telling-off (and quite rightly so).\u00a0 As a precaution (punishment, really) I was placed right next to the nurses desk and the cot-bars of my bed were put up permanently to stop me escaping again.\u00a0 Even though visualising being well again is, I think, a good thing, going for a mini-trek when you’re one hour out of surgery is not recommended.\u00a0 They don’t give me as much morphine immediately post-op any more which helps matters a lot; the last few surgeries I’ve been very good when back on the ward and have stayed put until steady on my feet.
\nIt’s not just in hospital where taking it easy is important; getting back home and back to your normal surroundings can be completely confusing.\u00a0 You’re back in your own bed (yay!), friends are popping round to see how you are, you can flop on the sofa and watch a frankly boggling array of mind-numbing daytime television; recovery at home should be easy!\u00a0 Of course it’s a little more complicated than that.\u00a0 After spending an average of a month on the ward per stay, I find that my body and mind have been programmed to hospital life; obs every couple of hours, someone bringing you tea every couple of hours, ready-cooked meals three time a day and your bed made for you each morning.\u00a0 I live alone by choice but I usually have my Mum stay with me the first couple of days following a biggie surgery; after smaller ones I’m fine on my own.\u00a0 So she helps me with meals\/tea\/making the bed whilst she’s there.\u00a0 After that, I get my own tea.\u00a0 That doesn’t sound like a big deal but it’s surprisingly exhausting to do after someone’s drilled your head, rummaged around inside your brain, stapled you back together and sent you home.\u00a0 Here’s where planning is key.\u00a0 I learned this after my fourth recovery when I’d made the exact same mistakes during the previous three.\u00a0 I devised a ten-point plan which I shall share here (little plans warrant bullet points; it looks more like a plan then).<\/p>\n