Pain in bed thoughts
Things were bad enough having to be semi grounded with a catheter. Slipping a disc in my back, while taking off a sock, stopped me altogether. Having to spend the next few days in bed, was not on my list of the most pleasant events to attend.
At first, there's just pain - everywhere. Afraid to move, (in case it aggrevates things more) - brings all kinds of doom and gloom thoughts into your mind.
"You'll never get anywhere now!"
"You're done for - might as well finish it off".
Then you start feeling sorry for yourself
The pain killers begin to take effect, but having pain on the front and back was a new experience for me. I entered the, "Woe is me stage". What else can possibly go wrong?
Eventually I began drifting off sleepwards - only to awakened by the builders upstairs using a power drill in a wall.
I resigned myself to the inevitable.
The most comfortable position problem
I have a catheter hanging off one side and it feels very, very, weird. All my senses are now on Red Alert. After lot of shifting about, without hurting my spine any more, a modicum of ease was arrived at and I managed a bit of sleep.
So it was, for three days. The disc pain was declining, I discovered a number of different ways to manage the tube which had become a new appendage to my body and I played Solitaire on the tablet that I had decided not throw away.
Laying in bed for more than a day brings these on - in no uncertain terms. Like, how do I get that hot drink down my throat without soaking myself in sugared Chamomile and mint tea, thus further complicating things? I couldn't sit straight up because of the pain. It too was solved, with extra pillows and one of those bendy straws.
Of course the sheets start wrapping themselves around me and I end up wondering what a caterpillar must feel like. Will I sprout colorful wings and try flying south? My imagination was having the time of its life.
Bedside cabinet tops
These very quickly fill up and clutter tries to claim it's crown. Time for revolution. The flags are raised, the bugles sound and a TV tray, on the other side of the bed, saves the day. Yet, even it soon fills up. Tissue for the nose etc. Smartphone and tablet, plus their chargers. A small towel, some sterilizing hand cleanser and other items find a temporary home for themselves.
By now, boredom has set in
I can only twiddle my thumbs so much, solitaire has lost it's shine and I've run out of positions to lay in. I'm tired of looking at four walls. Plus, to add insult to injury, WiFi is out of range!
A slow and little bit painful foray, with the aid of one of those metal crutches (that makes a clicking sound every time it hits the floor), has me in front of my PC. Email checked and answered, I make a now more painful clicking return to bed and gently flop down exhausted.
So, here I am, writing this. The thought of writing a blog post about it occurred, as I wondered what could I do next. Am I out of the woods yet? No, but I can see some daylight.
It's not a permanent deal that's happening. Just one of those things which sometimes befalls travel bloggers (usually when you just thought to was safe to go back in the water).
Sep 09, 2015 / 09:22
Update on it all
Back is okay now - but.... To make matters worse, a test was done. Some stupid nurse yanked the catheter out (totally wrong way to remove one) and I bled all over the place. Fortunately the human body has an answer. A survival hint: your own urine is a, very, powerful antiseptic to your own body. So it healed up nicely.
Then they made me drink strong coffee (the culprit in the first place). Trouble is everything is now normal (once the strong caffeine subsided) and I'm stuck with a tube for 6 months.
A classic example of why many folk over here emailed Obama saying - do not under any circumstances copy England's, lousy, National Health Service.
Aug 11, 2015