A punky day…

Punky is my made up word for when I feel just yuck.  I made up this word during my chemotherapy treatment.  It describes how I feel nauseated, funky, dizzy, and just overall yucky. 

Day 3 after surgery was the token punky day.  Oh boy, I thought I was going to sail through this.  Surprise smart ass, you are human, remember?  Talk about being taken down a notch or two or three.  I feel awful.  Where is that blue little kidney shape puke bucket?  My bed is too low, I can’t quite reach the bedside table because I am not moving much in bed yet.  Uh oh, here it comes.  I am starting to gag and hold back what I am dreading is going to happen in the next few seconds.  Brace myself, things are going to get ugly right away.  Yep.  That was bad.  All over me.  I learned a new word.  I am told that what I am experiencing is called wretching.  Sorry this is gross, but this is what happens.  I have had nothing in my tummy for 4 days now and there is nothing to throw up, but somehow the body goes through the motions anyway and some yucky stuff comes out your nose and mouth anyway.  I am drenched and making involuntary noises that I didn’t know I could make.  I laugh about it now but at the time I have to admit that wretching (a chunkless vomit?) has got to be absolute torture especially when your abdomen has been spliced open vertically from ribs to private area and being held with 80 staples.  OUCH !  

So I was so disoriented and concentrating on keeping my guts and body parts together that I couldn’t multi-task and hit the nurse call button.  Poor Joan, but what  a great roomie, she hit her nurse’s button for me so someone would come to help me.  There she goes taking the heat for me again.  Thank you!   Nurse comes right away (I was so out of it that I don’t even remember which wonderful nurse helped me out, I was also very disgusted with myself).  I get all cleaned up, new designer hospital gown, some clean bedding (a blue blanket instead of green, good because I don’t care for green).  My best comfort was a warm blanket covering my tummy and a cold washcloth on my forehead.  The entire day was like this.  I hid under the washcloth, had the nurse pull my curtain, I am out of here.  Lights out.  I want to just escape inside my head to my happy place, the beach. 

Later that afternoon when my surgeon came in to visit during his daily rounds, I think he was expecting to see the usual happy smiling me.  Nope.  The cranky sicko appeared.  He asked how are we today?  I raised my washcloth so at least one eye could see him and replied “not so good”.  I joked with him and said “you know, these miracle things are A LOT of work!”.  He smiled and said “well I never said it was going to be easy”.  I told him that I wanted him to take me off of the morphine drip.  No more drugs for me.  Stop them right away.  I need my marbles.  I don’t like feeling sick at all and I want to get out of this bed.  And please can we take the catheter out too?  I really need to start potty training to check out your handy work.  He gave me his usual look.  After the look he says, “you know you don’t have to be a hero in the pain department”.  I said don’t worry, if I feel the pain is too much, I will ask for a tylenol or something.  He shook his head and wished me a better evening and likely thought to himself that this girl is so stubborn.  Yep, he would be right.  Let’s get this show on the road.   Say adios to my new friends, the ones that I hallucinated with.  The green faced man with warts all over his face that would appear from time to time from under the right side of my bed and mess up my IV pole and make it start beeping.  He would also give me a raspberry and then go hide under the bed.  Also goodbye to the old man that would appear from his special opening in the far wall.  He came to visit when Rick was visiting me.  I told Rick he was there to say hello to him.  Also goodbye to the beautiful white doves that appeared up in the ceiling.  I wonder if someone sent those to me.  It certainly wasn’t the green faced guy.  He was weird!  Let’s hope this is the last time I have to experiece morphine.   See ya later punky friends.  I have some recovery to get on with!