Anyway, back to the story...
Dr. Jag came to see me in the ICU very early the next morning. I was still half awake but I could figure out that it was a Sunday. "Do you ever have a rest day?" I asked him and he returned a sheepish smile.
"It was a success", he started. A good start indeed. "But we found a lot of internal infection... It was indeed a right decision not to put in the titanium screws." The spine fusion surgery he proposed earlier requires removal of the damaged discs and replacing it with bone graft. Then, in order to lock the two vertebrae in place, titanium screws and implants will be used. As cool as "titanium" sounds to an engineer like me, I would prefer that those metal stays on my wrist, finger or golf clubs - but not in my body. The third surgery would have multiplied the risk of infection and if there was any infection and the bacteria stick themselves on the metal implant, then they cannot be eliminated with antibiotics. In that situation, the only solution is to go back in to remove and replace the metal.
"But don't worry", he added. "I gave it a good clean and we'll start you with a course of antibiotics immediately". Then he started poking me here and there, lifting my legs and asking me to push his hands with my legs etc. and every time with the same question, "Is this painful? Is this painful?" I couldn't really distinguish whether it was a real pain or more of me being too scared about him roughly handling me. But the truth is; finally, the sciatica pain is no longer there...!
"Don't worry. No need to ask..." I said to him. "If I'm in pain, you'll hear me screaming".
In which he replied, "Ahaa... I see you got your sense of humor back already. That's progress..."
The physio training starts the very same day, in the ICU. As I expected, and feared, I had to start all over again. All I managed to do was to get up and sit at the edge of the bed. That's it. Not a very encouraging start. It really feels like playing "snake and ladder" where after a few good roles of the dice and having climbed a few ladders; then one wrong move and you're being swallowed by a snake and had to start over all the way from the bottom.
I kept telling myself that now the worst is really over but still I couldn't help it but fear the unknown. What if the disc decides to prolapse again? What if I take a tumble and hurt my back again? What if for whatever reason, some other parts of my body decide to give way and will cause another bout of incidents similar to this? But I also know that if I kept entertaining these negative thoughts, I will get nowhere. So every morning I will have to wake up, put on a smile and stick on my 'positivity patch' and try to look at the day in the brightest possible way. The truth of the matter is, it wasn't that hard. With all the support I'm getting from friends, colleagues and families, it feels like all these combined strengths are supporting me from behind. The record continues from the very first day that I was admitted - there has not been a single day where I have not had any visitors!
I was about to shift into third gear in the recovery process when on the fifth day after the operation, Dr. Deepak (who is the replacement to Dr. Jag while he goes for his year end holiday - so he's human after all) came and informed me that the bacteria strain in my infection is not the one that they had assumed earlier on. It was a different one (it was two strains actually) and they are also not very commonly found here. It quickly occurred to me; of course, they're from London! Because of that, the antibiotics they have been giving me from Day 1 is actually not working. They had to bring in an Infectious Disease Specialist (or more fondly known among them as the 'Bacteria Warfare' guy) who will devise a plan on how to tackle these bacteria. It turns out that I would have to take 4 different types of antibiotics and one of them via IV. And just because of that, me leaving the hospital is no longer determined by how I improved my mobility and my physical abilities but by the effectiveness of the course of antibiotics.
Another thing I hate is needles. I believe I have a reasonable level of tolerance to pain but somehow not when it comes to needles. I just hate them and can't stand even the smallest prick with those syringes. And by having to have 3 surgeries and many rounds of blood tests, IV medications etc., I had almost run out of places on my arms for them to prick me with. So sometimes they had to go back to the veins they have used before while they are still sore from the last use! To make it worse, the antibiotic IV is so corrosive that it burns the vein after a few days of use. Anyway, I shouldn't be complaining but should actually be thankful that I am now in good hands of the experts.
I'm a believer that laughter is the best medicine. And indeed my visitors brought plenty of that! Other than the pain I get at the stitches when I laughed too hard, the laughs I get with every visitors had really gave me the strength and willpower to get back on my feet as soon as I can. I lost count of the number of people who came but judging from other patients' visitors, I believe no one can beat our record. The scores of visitors were a mixed of friends, colleagues (and my Boss, my Boss' Boss and my Boss' Boss' Boss!), families, relatives, koi friends, long lost friends (one of my friends I last met was 30 years ago!), newly found friends, friends of friends and many others. Sadly, I totally forgotten the routine of taking pictures with visitors like I did in London. Perhaps subconsciously I feel that I'm already home and will easily meet these people again that made me forget to take their pictures. The only ritual that we never forget here is to take pictures of daily progress of my wound. Don't worry, I don't intend to post those gruesome pictures here. They were just taken by either Zarina or the nurses or sometimes even the doctors themselves so that I could see what's happening behind my back, literally. And that was healing nicely too.
This is the period of time when I actually started writing this blog. Other than the suggestions I received from some friends, there was also another story behind it. One day, one of the visitors said, "Do you know that every time you go under a GA, it will kill a lot of your brain cells? That is why doctors normally would space out the gap between surgeries so as not to do too much harm on your brain." Zarina panicked. If one GA can do significant damage, then what about three! She quickly asked me to start doing something creative other than surfing the internet reading the Koi Forum and of course writing comes to mind. It was such a great feeling looking at the tremendous support to the blog. Within a few days, the number of hits had easily beaten what my old blog "To The Red Centre and Back" did in half a year!
I was doing well with my physio therapy (just when I thought my therapist in London was bubbly, the one in PCMC is even bubblier!). I progressed from a single step to three steps, then five steps, then half way through the ward and finally all the way to the next ward. I also graduated from the walking frame back to the crutches and the next aim is to go a single crutch. I also regained my balance. I felt so pathetic when I first tried to stand up unassisted and have both my hands on my side, instead of the walking frame. I could only managed 5 seconds before I was swaying vigorously and had to quickly grab the walking frame again. But then again, with the hard work I progressed from 5 seconds to 10, 30, 60 and the best record at that time was 2 1/2 minutes! Anna the physio lady was very encouraging and motivating but sometimes the way she cheered me up I feel like I'm a kindergarten kid and she's the kindergarten teacher... but as long as the method works - can't complain. I also learnt to appreciate the simple things we do even more like standing up. I bet you all can stand still, raise your hands all the way above your head, and then close your eyes. At some point, I could only do one of those at a time. Not even two, and obviously not all three.
Two weeks flew by effortlessly. I told Zarina not to spend the night in the hospital anymore as I don't want to rob her from the kids. I am much more independent now and with all the nurses around me, I will be able to manage anything and everything. The kids are on school holiday now and even at their age, they still need supervision from her. But then again, she still insisted on visiting me every day, without fail, so she's been driving back and forth everyday from home to hospital on top of running errands and managing the household.
...I love my Superwoman...!
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