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My surgery, part 3



- All nurses reminded me, and they expressed true surprise to see me again there in such bad condition. They were so great, sometimes they just appeared to say hi!
- Doc said he was going to ask one woman of his crew to take care of me, but my mother could stay at room too. So Mom asked him to forget about the woman, she preferred to stay there with my father, if it was possible. Each patient could have just a person as companion, but Doc seemed to have enough power at hospital so both of them stayed with me all the time, and nobody complained about that.
- I used diapers at ITU, and if it was embarrassing in the beginning soon I get used to it. Come on, kids, we all had used it once!!
- Mom firmly believes in the power of money, so she frequently gave tips to nurses, cooking and cleaning crew. Chocolates too, so it bought to her and my father best meals (many of them didn’t appear at hospital bill), more blankets (idem) and undying loyalty of everybody who worked on that floor!
- Did I tell you before about the freedom of walking on your sleeping clothes? Yeah, the days passed by, my hair was becoming even more similar to Hair Bear, but I still had to walk. So I did that, every time meeting other patients looking just like me, carrying their IVs (like me) – and nobody gave attention to us. That’s freedom, kids, LOL
- There were blood tests every day, and one day (when they had already happened) came a woman to do another one. Fine, but she wasn’t finding a vein at my arms. She started to hurt me with her needle and finally she found a nerve, which made me feel an awful pain at one of my fingers. Of course I screamed, then my mother became furious! The woman (she wasn’t a nurse, but I don’t know exactly what she was, maybe a lab technician) decided to try my feet veins, and she didn’t find them too. My mother finally expelled her from my room, screaming about how she didn’t know her job – Jesus, I love my mom!
- Most part of people believe fat guys had breathing problems. I never had, there are tests that can prove it, but my doc didn’t seem to agree to me, so I had breathing physiotherapy since I wake up at ITU. Twice a day, and it was quite boring too, but ok, I could handle that. Until one day when the physiotherapist made me do exercises a little harder and I start bleeding at my surgery cut. The nurse who came to see what happened told me I shouldn’t had done something so harder, and it was enough for me: I stopped exercises by my own decision, and later I just told it to doc, who didn’t seem bothered. Physiotherapists, though, looked hurt every time they entered my room and I just told them, smiling, that I wouldn’t do exercises anymore. Poor them, LOL