Getting home from the hospital was an exciting prospect. No more being plugged into machines, or being woken up by nurses. More than that, it meant I was taking another step forward in my recovery, responsible for taking care of myself. And as much as I enjoyed having someone else worry about my food and medication and everything else, I was very much looking forward to being a little more self sufficient.
I spent the first couple of weeks staying with my Dad. My stay consisted of lying in bed and trying to keep myself amused all day. Dad would make up a tray of breakfast and lunch and leave it beside my bed before he went to work, and when he came home I would struggle downstairs and he’d cook dinner and we’d watch a movie together. Sounds okay, right?
By that point the pain was a lot more manageable. After a few days, I only needed to take painkillers intermittently, instead of on a regular schedule. The stitches were itchy, but I’ll take that over pain any day. I still got dizzy when I stood up for too long, and my legs were shaky, but every day I got a little closer to normal.
Of course, it wasn’t all fun and games. Every time I went to the bathroom, I had to follow it up with a salt bath. Which isn’t that bad in itself, soaking in a warm bath for fifteen minutes. The ritual that goes with it, though…
So, here’s how it goes down. Remember the mould? Bits of foam in a condom that need to stay in the vagina to keep it from collapsing? Gotta take that out before using the bathroom. That’s step one. Pull it out gently, throw out the condom, wipe your hands because now they have gunk on them. Probably also toss out the pad because even the super heavy duty ones get soaked through much too quickly. There’s a lot of fluid. Next, start running the bath. Head into the bathroom, take care of business. Back to the bath, stir in a cup of salt. Now the fun the part.
This got better over time, but especially at the start, I was severely lacking in mobility around the hips and groin. Try getting into a bath without bending your hips. I had a whole acrobatic routine figured out. It involved turning around multiple times at different angles and bending at the knees and you know what? There’s no good way to describe it. Anyway, soak in the bath, get out, dry off (very gently), get dressed (also a struggle), get back into bed. Roll up the mould, push it back in, feel uncomfortable for a while.
And beyond that? Not a whole lot going on. I read a lot of books and comics. I watched TV on my laptop. I watched movies with my Dad. A lot of the time, I just felt really, really bored. Not that I was lacking things to do, just the energy to do them. And really, there are only so many activities you can do before lying on a bed just gets old.
So, two weeks of hospitalisation, two weeks of mind-numbing boredom. Stay tuned for the final two weeks. Will it be more interesting? Well, you’ll get to find out all about dilation. So that’s fun, at least. Or, not fun, the other thing. Dreadful.