So my friends, I left you last night with tales of intervention, intervention, intervention.
Last night was a lot more restful – I mean there were obs at 12, 2, 4 and 6 but I was on a fold out bed with the getting infinitely more infamous yoga mat on top of it and when I was asleep it was the sleep of the dead.
Meanwhile, Oscar was more and more fretful. Think a high pitched whine come whimper. Normally it shits me to tears but in hospital with two legs in blood soaked plaster casts and a tube coming out of his penis even I can muster sympathy.
The pain team – as they are known – have assumed legend status in my mind. Just very straight-talking, highly knowledgeable and compassionate people. We talked about where he’s at, I reiterated my concern that the line between pain and anxiety with Oscar was always going to be a blurry one. They offered a solution.
The morphine dose was halved (it’s being administered through a drip, as opposed to one of those self-administering do-hickeys) and a new drug was introduced – one which deals with neuropain receptors or some such with nerve pain but that also deals with anxiety – very effective, very safe and none of the issues of drugs in the diazapan family.
The difference was almost immediate. A lot less of the worrying and a much clearer indication of how he is feeling (i.e. he tells of pain in that 10-15 minute window leading up to the next dose of paracetamol and ibuprofen).
Mum, Chef, Jasper and Grover came in. I hadn’t seen Grover since Monday so that was rather lovely until he realised the lighthouse he’d worked on every day at kindy and was bringing in to show me was still on the kitchen table at home.
The little fellas however earned their way today, posing for photos and being most obliging with craft activities for a visit from the NSW Health Minister, Carmel Tebbutt. I’d show you pics but I left the camera in Oscar’s room and can’t be arsed going back in there just yet. I found it quite funny seeing my two little guys sitting there surrounded by suits and very important people while barely three metres away Oscar was protesting quite vocally about his sponge bath regardless of the jokes the nurses, Chef and I were having about him experiencing what many men dream about.
So yeah, this morning there was a cavalcade of people past our bed from the pain team, the orthopaedic registrars (both of whom are remarkably good looking. Score.), the physio and OT.
He had a sponge bath and the sheets were changed.
He didn’t each much but did find an appetite this afternoon for some yoghurt and ate half his chicken burger for dinner. I scoffed his mash and gravy because dudes, this place does wicked mashed potato and gravy.
Eleanor brought in a care package yesterday of sandwiches from Bourke St Bakery along with the most sublime chocolate milk (made with organic Belgian chocolate – which only killed a couple of orangutans or involved a couple of kids in child labour but hey, win some lose some – that had lumps of cream in it. You know I’m not kidding) and an old-fashioned lemon drink which was about the only thing I could get Oscar to drink today. He loved it and I imagine the coldness and the lemon were divine on the scratchy throat from having an anaesthetic tube shoved down there for the better part of four hours. there were also two sublime frangipane tarts topped with pear or rhubarb but they were scoffed yesterday. The second sandwich (which she had brought in for Chef) I toasted today for lunch. Can I say, having proper food (as well as scoffing hospital mash) does wonders for your spirits while trapped inside a hospital.
The only downside of today was trying to get Oscar to drink – his IV fluids were pushed back up this afternoon because the urine output was so low. I figure on the scale of issues this is not huge and something that will resolve itself as he feels better.
We will be back here on Tuesday week for them to recast the legs and cast for new othotics under general anaesthetic. I am so relieved to hear this is the plan. The idea of taking these blood-soaked monstrosities off while he was awake was scaring the bejebus out of me.
So that’s about it for today. A much calmer day, one in which Oscar told me this afternoon ‘wait, wait, wait’ his way of telling me he’s bored. A good sign that the Ogga Boy is in there somewhere.
I found out more about some of the families on the ward today and well, let’s just say we’re feeling very lucky indeed.