Post-Op

"Nialle? ...Nialle Travnik?"

Light. Eyes close... black.

Again.

"Nialle Travnik?"

Light. Shapes. People. It's quiet here. More light. I feel faaaaaaantastic. I don't care why. Someone's talking to me. I don't care. Eyes close. Black.

"Nialle Kelsey Travnik?"

I'm up.

"It took a little more than normal to wake you up. We were kind of worried."

That's because I didn't want to wake up. Warmth. Warm. Calm. Happy. I've never had morphine before.

I'm in the OR waiting room again. Maybe where they send patients after surgery. Post-Op. Probably. It's calm here. Or maybe I'm calm. The nurses ask me how I'm doing, but I have trouble making brisk conversation. I resolve to relax. This is a vacation, as far as I'm concerned.

I'm wheeled out, out of the waiting room, out of OR. Into my new ward. Vanessa and mom are waiting on the catwalk. Looks of relief on their faces as they stride towards my stretcher.

"How are you?"

"Oh, I'm doing awesome."

No other words to describe it.

I'm installed in a post-op bed in the Urology ward. I'm fitted with "leq squeezers" as I call them, tight leggings that contract and release at regular intervals to prevent blood clots. A nurse puts a black controller with a white button on the top.

"OK, this is a PCM. You can control the amount of pain relief you want. It's morphine, and it will give you a pre-measured dose when you press the button. You can use it every eight minutes. If you're in pain, don't be afraid to use it. That's what it's there for."

Chris and Jody visit. I manage to make conversation, I enjoy having them there. People move in and out of the room. I still don't remember much, painkillers are like felt on a blackboard.

My nurse in an old hippie. He's got long hair and a big mustache.

"Yeah, I worked in palliative care for seven years before this. You know, terminally ill patients. It was great. You think it'd be dark, but it's not. I just left my work at work, y'know? One day I had eight patients die. Yeah. It was just part of the job. Then I moved to the cardiac ward. I was a little too laid back after being in palliative all those years. People would be having these heart attacks, and I'd be like 'Hey! Don't worry! Just go towards the light!" You can't do that in cardiac."

I learn quickly that laughing and fresh stitches are a painful combination. Not that in the first few hours I felt much pain at all.

You tend to hear stories of people drooling after taking a couple of Tylenol 3's.

Everything in post-op comes in bigger doses. A couple of T3's? Done. Advil? Sure. An unpronouncable painkiller in your IV? Some morphine? Anything else?

I press the morphine button and hear Hawaiian guitars. Sleep comes.