Wednesday, 4 September 2013

"Take a deep breath"


The week in hospital requires patience and resilience.

Some days I wake up feeling great, but it doesn't take long to slip back into fatigue and I just want to lie down.

I can't reach my phone.  Drugs are keeping the pain under control, but my chest is very uncomfortable, and my range of movement is limited.  The telephone cradle is very light, so that if I can manage to get a grip on the handset, the spiral cord doubles up on itself and the whole unit clatters to the ground.  This means that the first thing my caller hears from me is a swear word.

On the Friday I inquire if there is a hairdressing service.  My hair hasn't been washed for a week, and if I can only lift one kilogram, how am I going to hold a hairdryer above my head?   A lady can come in to dry it for me, but I have to wash it myself.  With effort, I manage to do this.  The hairdresser arrives, and as soon she starts on me I can tell that there is no particular expertise being applied.  It is the worst blow-dry ever, finished with sticky lacquer.   I suppose it's better than what I could do one week after open-heart surgery.  My daughter comes in with a straightener and fixes it for me.

Part of the therapy is to cough frequently - ten times per hour.  Hugging a folded towel lessens the pain. My cardiologist listens to my chest and observes that air is not reaching down fully into my right lung.  He asks the nurse to get me a "tri-flo".  It turns out to be a sort of toy that requires you to suck in deeply and make three balls levitate into the air.  It's great because it sets you a goal.  Instead of "breathe in deeply", it indicates how deeply you can breathe and still be safe.

Apparently they used to give everyone one of these, but research found that not everyone benefits from it.  I'm glad I told my doctor about the singing, because I think this why I've been given one.  I want to regain full lung capacity and he's offered me a way to do it.  It's hard at first, but I persevere, and within twenty minutes I've cracked it.








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