Being “Naughty”
Tubes and Adult Diapers: It occurred to me that, although I hadn’t been able to move, how come I hadn’t eaten or been to the bathroom after so many days? I hadn’t felt any urges to eat, but I questioned in my mind why I hadn’t been to the bathroom yet. I gathered that the drips had been compensating for the no evidence, or memory of a meal. However, no visit to the bathroom was really odd. I looked around, and as I had seen people and staff go in and out of a door at base of my bed, I worked out must have been the bathroom. I really wanted to go through that door. However, my drips, things, and paralysis restricted me from even trying.
I understood why the drips were attached to me, but I suddenly became aware of other equipment (catheters) attached to my private parts. I was horrified. I quickly and gradually pulled them away with my right hand. It certainly explained my lack of visits to the bathroom. After some emergency bleeping noises, the poor nurses had to face and clean up the awful mess later. Naughty me! I later was reduced to the indignity of wearing adult diapers after that. One nurse actually dropped her face down to my face level, and angrily scowled at me through her gritted teeth, “never touch any tubes again!”, in Spanish. I felt like a child and been well and extremely told off! However, after that, it meant that I had more freedom of movement each day to sit in the arm chair for an hour. Even with the big “Bridget Jones” sized diapers!
A Little Try at Being Adventurous: That hadn’t been the end of my curiosity. I reasoned that, if I had a good leg, I should have been able to limp my way over to that elusive bathroom. Wrong! When I managed to slowly edge myself off the end of the bed, I tried to stand up and realised that I made a huge mistake. I hadn’t taken into account how weak I was and ended up crashing in a heap onto the floor. I made such a clatter, which attracted a lot of attention. Again, the nursing staff hadn’t been too amused with me. I became a “fall risk” from then on. I really couldn’t blame them. I could have fallen badly, cracked my head or broken something. It never occurred to me at the time though. I was just in a hurry to prove I that I could try to walk, or at least limp. Boy had I been wrong!
24th January
First Swallow Test: I had a few sessions of attempting to stand up freely, to test my balance. It was tiring and I felt absolutely useless. I constantly fell back onto my bed, to my frustration. According to the nursing staff, I had pulled out my nose feeds. I hadn’t recalled doing that, but admit I had pulled out the catheters earlier, so I really couldn´t argue. Dr Hamad was concerned that as I pulled my nose tubes out, arrangements were made for a swallow test. He told me that, if I choked when I swallowed, the feeding tubes would be reinstalled. If I managed to swallow, I wouldn’t have them back in. No way did I want them back! – A new challenge for me! Two nurses arrived with an orange jello concoction and spoon fed me gently. After I had kept down 3 spoonfuls, one of the nurses declared me “champion!” That was the start of me gradually being able to have liquids only.
Brushing my teeth: I finally got permission to have my teeth dry brushed. My breath must have been horrendous, but I was allowed a clean with an awful tasting paste. No water, or any liquids, however, I readily accepted the dry and horrible version. It was a new luxury at this stage. As for my hair, I must have looked terrible. Before, I was at the mercy of the nursing staff and their awful military bed washing routine.
Sad News of a Friend: Colin broke the awful news that our good friend, Steve from my golf club, had been admitted into Marbella hospital. The poor man had suffered over a year with throat cancer. Over many months he lost a great deal of weight, fought through several tests and attended many hospital appointments. He bravely faced up to his new fight. I was shocked to hear and frustrated because I had no ability to directly contact our friend, Steve’s wife, Stephanie. Colin and I hoped that Steve would get on the road to recovery, but the news hadn’t sounded very encouraging.
26th January
Relatives Constant Comfort: Susan, my middle sister, had to go back to her family. I was totally grateful for her presence, but amazed she stayed for so long. Each day had been a schedule of Colin and my sisters visiting me, while they stayed in a local pension (motel), that was conveniently close to Malaga hospital. It couldn’t have been easy for them. Vivian had work commitments back in London, Susan had her husband and daughter in Manchester, and Colin had the stress from running the business, finances and commuting from our house an hour away. Poor Colin was left to work out my job by juggling to get the business back on track, dealt with mounting paperwork, sort our dwindling finances from a distance, while I was out of action. I was so grateful for their love and support. Just their presence when I woke up, was very comforting but I felt totally useless.
No Solid Food: I wasn’t allowed solids yet, in case I choked, or got pneumonia. There were so many things I wasn’t permitted to have. I hated having to be spoon fed and placed on a regime normally for diabetics. I had soup, that looked and smelled horrible, but I soon got hooked on drinking yoghurts – especially the chocolate versions. Dr Hamad visited, and he seemed happy with my progress. He mentioned the possibly of release home on the following Monday. I was so happy.
The Night Shift: I had a bit of a problem with the night carers. They turned out to be different to the kind nursing staff of the day shift. The nightly “Diaper Brigade” only came round 4 four times a night. This meant that I was left for ages until I had been given a regimented change-over, irrespective of the fact that I had very little control of my bodily functions. Although I buzzed for help during the night, I was constantly ignored! I became so angry one night, that I managed to take off my diaper with my good hand, and just dropped it onto the floor. That certainly attracted their attention, but was marked as a troublemaker! I had nick named them them “Night Witches”, as we developed a mutual animosity. Yes, I was naughty, but could anyone have blamed me?
Nightly Tie Down: I dreaded the end of visiting hours, because “The Night Witches” saw fit to tie me down in my bed each night. It was so bad, I wasn’t able to lift my good arm to even scratch an itch. It became a nightly ritual of being tied down, me objecting and squirming every night. Each morning, upset at my distress, Colin or my sister released me. The staff were requested several times, not to bind me. However, they continued anyway every night.
One night, I was held down by four of them, while force fed with some mashed up pills into a jelly. I struggled and refused to open my mouth. Two of the “Witches” grabbed my nose and chin, to pry my mouth apart. My nose had been pinched so hard that I developed a nosebleed! I angrily tried to shout “no authority” to force me, or tie me down. One of the “Witches” replied in Spanish, “who are you going to tell? The hospital?”. The following morning, after Colin or Vivian released me again, they realised that I was too afraid and distressed to go to sleep at night. Vivian kindly volunteered to sleep in the arm chair next to my bed. She kept me calm, held my hand, spoon fed me and made sure my diapers had been changed at any time of the night. There was no way I could have described the relief of just her presence. It gave me such peace of mind and was so thoughtful of her to be on hand. After that, I stopped behaving like a naughty girl for while ……..
Please view next page 9 at Link “Tantrums, Final Release and Going Home”: https://www.rebootinglinda.com/more-naughty-tantrums-going-home/
CONTACT FORM: Please leave a comment …..
We would love to hear from you and appreciate if you will “Share” your comments or experience with us. This will help us make a compilation of stories to help others to give hope and encouragement for their journey to recovery.
Your email address will not be published. Please fill in the form below with a brief description of your experience so we can contact you for more details.
Now you realize what happened, what was going on and what you did but you were naturally not aware of the events and happenings at the time. Not being able to do something seems to cause us to want to do it even more and it’s very frustrating when we can’t and you were no different. My wife’s friends husband is currently going through the exact same thing as you having had a stroke, but he initially was totally unable to move at all or speak and to make it worse the caregivers didn’t speak his language so you can imagine what he was and is going through. Now look how far you have come since first being struck down like you were. You are doing great in your recovery….keep up the good work.
Thank you very much – it was a pretty frustrating and trying time but I guess I could have handled certain situations better if I was my normal self. It’s my stubborn side that came through 🙂 Anyway, I really hope you friend has a full recovery and hope this blog might be of help, even if it’s just to show that it’s normal to get frustrated and angry. All the best xxx