Part 9: Home Again

Despite having a fairly restful period in the hospital, I can't help but craving to get back to my normal routine as soon as I can. The hospital room, no matter how luxurious, is still not home. I miss my family especially my kids, my kois, my bikes (in that order)... I miss the action at work too! My doctor had hinted that even if I could go home, it will still take months before I'd be allowed to go back to active duty at work, and more importantly; no travelling! That's a bit scary considering that there is no non-active part or role that I could play in my work. And travelling is a big chunk of the work! I can't help but to entertain the paranoia that if I were absent for too long, they might decide that I'm not fit for my work, or any work at all... Anyway, it was bit comforting when I thought of what my Boss' Boss' Boss said when he visited me at the hospital the other day. He told me not to worry about work; get myself properly fixed first and then only think about coming back to work...

Other than the hordes of visitors, there were many other things - good things - that made life in hospital bearable. I have plenty of time to read and write and to reflect  The bathroom is just 5 steps away from my bed. The reclining bed. The friendly nurses who are available just at a push of a button. The Coffee Bean downstairs that sometimes Zarina wheeled me to. And a few others as well. But then again; the ultimate aim is still to go home. To be able to sleep in my own bed, eat what I want to eat instead of what's available in the menu-of-the-day and not having any needles chasing me.

Talking about needles, I was already running out of veins on my hands for them to poke. Both my hands, through the three surgeries, have taken quite a beating. One time, one of the IV line was inserted wrongly in the ICU and I ended up with a swollen hand for 4 days! They are now using the only available spot on my arms for the IV line. But with the corrosive antibiotics, it doesn't take long before I started feeling the burning sensation. One evening I just had to ask them to take it off before it became swollen again. My 'bacteria warfare' doctor was brought in immediately the next morning and luckily he sympathized and asked for me to be given oral antibiotics only - by a concoction of four antibiotics. The bad news is that I now have more to swallow many more times in a day but finally, I should be home free!

From the beginning I had asked my doctor when he thinks I would be able to go home. His first estimation was two weeks but it entirely depends on how the infection reacted to the antibiotics. If we can stop the IV antibiotic and just have to rely on oral type of antibiotics - then I can go home. It was actually quite frustrating for the fact that, no matter hard I work, like all the effort I put in into my physio training, the actual determining factor of whether I could go home is actually not under my control. I'm not a control freak but I do prefer to be in control... most of the time...

Luckily, after two rounds of blood tests, my body was beginning to show positive reaction to the antibiotics. The 'markers' are showing lowering trend and by projection will clear all the infections very soon. Finally, on the 13th day I was in PCMC, my doctor came and delivered the good news - as far as the surgery and infection point of view, he feels that I was fit enough to go home! All I had to do was to have an assessment with the Rehab Specialist and get her opinion on my physical abilities and mobility.

This was the final moment. I aced it and I am now home free...!

I did ask her after the assessment on how long does she think until I will be totally crutch-free. My doctor gave me a three months medical leave which seems a bit too long for me judging by my rapid progression now but she said there is no guarantee that I would be able to walk independently even after three months. It seemed to me that she was being ultra conservative in her estimation. With all due respect to her in-depth knowledge and experience in her field of expertise, I would gladly prove her wrong. I'm giving myself one month top to be crutch-free and at the same time will be back on active duty. I take their advice on not travelling but I will not hold back on anything else.

I quickly called Zarina to come and pick me up and she quickly rushed there the moment she sorted out the kids. I had mixed feelings. On the one hand was obviously the happiness and excitement to go home but on the other, how is it going to be - recovering at home. Will I not be a burden to my family? Will I adjust well to the conditions at home? Is this really the final hospital stay for me? I really hope it is...

Just when I thought that everything is going on exactly as planned and how nothing else could go wrong at this point - as Zarina was packing my belongings I then realized that my wallet was nowhere to be found! I remember I had it when I first got in two weeks ago. Zarina also remembered taking it from the drawer when I had to check out from my room before going to the operation theater but somehow, there was a memory blank between the time I returned from the ICU and stayed in the new room until now. Zarina practically turned the hospital upside down and inside out looking for it and traced back all our footsteps in the hospital but we still couldn't find it. What ought to have been a sweet and triumphant moment of returning home turned to an unpleasant episode of worrying. Probably the only minor comfort was that there has been no attempt of use on any of my credit cards but still, I can't even bear the thought of having to replace my IC, driving license, ATM cards, credit cards, corporate cards, medical cards and many others. I don't mind the money, really, but was really upset for the fact that whoever who took it didn't have the decency to at least returned all the other important documents. It wasn't a pleasant drive home but at least I was going home. Quite a test this has been...

After a reasonably restful first night at home, we spent the whole day next day calling banks, registering for the new IC and settling many other official stuffs. Eventhough we have moved on and did all the necessaries, I still couldn't get over the fact that whoever took it was really heartless - taking opportunity of other people's low point in their life for his/her evil intention. The only way I could channel my anger and frustrations away is to hold on to an assumption, although quite unlikely, that I could have been the one who misplaced it or we could have dropped it during the shifting of the room and it must now be lying somewhere where no one thought of looking. In any case, I have also decided that I was not going to allow this mishap to ruin what should have been a very good start on my journey to full recovery. 

It took quite a bit of effort to adjust to the situation at home. The bed has no side railings to hold on to, the mattress is different, the shower is not less-abled friendly and the climbing of stairs was really killing me but emotionally, I was at my all time high and I believe, that alone can speed up the process. The New Year came by and I was adjusting even more to home and beginning to really get used to the routine of having a long holiday. The only one setback was I was yet to be able to find a good position to write hence the blog got held up for a while. Until we could solve on the sitting position, I could not even bear 15 minutes on a chair working on my notebook! But the best part is probably having the opportunity to spend more time with my kids. In between my long working hours and travelling I know that I have been neglecting them somehow. I subscribed to the idea that it's not the quantity of time but the quality of it that matters hence had always make a point of spending 'quality time' with my kids. But now I'm beginning to realize - quantity is just as important.

One night I was having a long chat with my daughter in her bedroom. We talked about all kinds of things - her life, her school, her friends, her pet rats, her problems, her fears, her dreams and all sorts of other things. She was really pouring out. At one point she said, "Babah, please don't get me wrong but I'm happy that you're sick." I was taken aback but before I could say anything, she added, "I'm just happy that you're sick so you get to spend more time with us at home. I'm glad that I get to talk to you like this. I know Mama is always here for us but she's also busy with the boys and Tok and everything else. You are a good Dad and I know you worked so hard to provide for your family but I just want more of you..."

I felt a nail driven through my heart...

I always believe that everything happened for a reason. God puts us on a certain path, or He puts something in our path in order for us to learn something from it. Our knowledge, experience, wisdom and faith will guide us in determining the lessons that we were supposed to learn from everything that happened to us and around us. I learnt a lesson from all this and I hope you all do too...

By the way, this is not yet the end of the story...