The Former Traveling Spotlight

The tales of a "30" something gay former stand-up comic living in NYC who is searching for his soul mate or soul...which ever comes first.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Wordless Phrases

Anyone get the number of the bus that hit me? Yeah...it's about how I feel at this moment. I'm looking forward to being able to comfortably walk farther than 4 blocks.

Last week is a blur. I went into the hospital for a revision surgery to do some "minor corrections" and woke up in way more pain than I had from the original surgery. Apparently they had to intubate me in the recovery room as I wasn't breathing on my own after all the morphine administered for pain. Yes...this was how my week started out.

By the time I was coherent, the resident explained to me that I had two drainage tubes (one in each side) and a tube from my nose into my stomach (called an NG tube) that was draining any content (stomach acid) so that my stomach could heal from being perforated. It was that tube that hurt like a mother fucker. For those that already know...yes...I did remove the NG tube myself. Honestly, it was nothing but anger that gave me the strength to do it.

Thursday night, while a visitor was visiting me, the resident came in and started to examine me. While checking my wounds, he told me I was using morphine too much and should only be using it for my surgical wounds. Not for my throat pain.

***Blank stare***

Pain is fucking pain. Can I get an Amen people?

But if there is one thing I have learned about myself, piss me off, and I'll take it to a whole new level. Anger can drive me like no other emotion. Thus that night, I suffered without pain medication. With each swallow, I made my plans to take the resident down a few notches. It started when he walked in for initial rounds.

Him: Morning Patrick, how are you feeling?
Me: When do I go for x-rays to see if the nose tube can be removed?
Him: Well radiology isn't open yet, so we'll call for an appointment when they do. Have you passed gas yet?
Me: What time do they open?
Him: 9:00.
Me: I'll be there at 9 AM if I have to walk there myself. A good resident would have made the appointment the night before. Apparently you aren't very good.

My x-rays were at 9 am, and the physician that analyzed them indicated that the tube was allowed to be removed. Thus, upon arriving back in my room, I told the nurse to page the resident and tell him he had exactly 60 minutes to remove the tube from my nose, or I'd do it myself.

90 minutes later, I put the garbage can in front of me (in case of vomiting), removed the tape adhering the tube to my nose, and started pulling. The distance from your stomach to your nose is about 60 centimeters. Pulling the tube felt more like 60 miles, but I got the thing out.

When the resident arrived 2 hours late, I handed him the tube and informed him that he was not to do any more work on my case.

Sometimes, saying "fuck you" doesn't involve using curse words.

Patrick - 8:05 AM -

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