Searching for my Guardian Angel

Monday, July 10, 2006

Sorry for MIA for almost half a month. I did not reply the sms-es and calls as I do not wish to appear as a pathetic worm but as an energetic, fun, crazy girl. Neither did I complain to anyone as...this is just not me. Luckily, music is always available for me. I would listen to melodious music to calm my nerves, loud music to lift my spirit up, my own voice to recall how it sound like while I cannot open my mouth for three weeks.

I was in ICU for two days after surgery and normal ward for another six days. After the surgery, tubes were plugged into my nostrils to provide oxygen, inserted at sides of my neck to draw out excess blood, infused into my wrist to drip saline into me and instilled into my urinary track to draw out my urine. Besides that, my finger was clipped to register my pulse rate, magnetic pieces were pasted on my chest to record my heart beat and pressure bag was always wrapped around my arm to measure pressure every half an hour.

(blood) I was not in stable condition initially. In fact, I vomited mouthfuls of blood many times. I could feel air was seriously lacking in my blood-clotted nose, my throat was burning with pain and most importantly, my mouth was sealed almost completely while blood and mucus just kept on flowing out. I could smell my hair and upper body soaked in blood and it just seemed that blood was flowing out of my body endlessly. The nurse had come several times to withdraw blood samples of each 100ml from me and as my vein is very thin, he had to poke my arm many times to get the desired quantity. Also, my period had for once came so punctual which refused to “come down” and as a result, I was rolling on bed in excruciating pain. I am however lucky not to faint but just giddy and feeble after only transfusing 0.75 packet of blood while my surgery requires about 2 packets.

(pain) The injection of antibiotics and dripping of saline were nothing comparing to cleaning of the wounds. The nurse was responsible enough to use metal needle to scalp off any dead tissue, pus around my wounds thoroughly. I had vomited the bitter medicine that was tube-fed to me and this caused me to spread open my wounds several times. Even though my mouth is sealed up, I still have to gurgle after food and brush my teeth twice a day. What I have to do is to force open my hello-kitty size lips and use a baby toothbrush to clean my teeth portion by portion extremely gently. I did not take the pain killer as taking it does not make much difference after all. Also, after anesthetized fully for six hours, I had bad muscle aches all over my body and my ears rang like bees.

(suffer) I was feverish for almost two weeks after the surgery. My bones were icy cold like a snake's while my body was igniting, especially my wounds. Beads of cold sweat formed on my forehead and I was too feeble to even take a deep breath using my congested nose. When I closed my eyes, I could hear people wailing for the departure of their family member due to accidents or operation at ICU and patients yelling and moaning in pain, cursing, praying, murmuring in the ward... All these three weeks, I cannot open my mouth to speak nor to eat. Tube is used to transfer liquid food into me, which has to be of right temperature (warm/cold water bath), not with impurities bigger than orange pulps (chopper, stirrer, blender, sieve) and extremely hard to get food in (patience) but relatively easy for food to get stuck inside (patience). It has to be inserted very carefully to avoid the stitches (patience) yet food drips out easily. (PATIENCE)

As one falls sick, he would begin to doubt his ability and rely on others. To prevent this, I want to do things within my abilities as much as possible. However, there was a time I was feverish and weak yet insisted to take bath by myself. I closed the door too loud and my mum rushed in to check if I were all right. She went all drama to check if I have injured myself while I was desperately showing I am fine yet could not make a purr. At that moment, a sharp pain like a dagger pierced right through my heart. It is sorrowful for others not to know your intention while you try so hard to "voice it out".

My mum used to ask me if I hate her for bringing me so much suffering and made me different from others. I said no and I loved them for giving me a chance to live. Parents always wish their children to have great accomplishment yet I cannot even be healthy for now. Honestly, I did feel pissed at times, as at this prime age, I should be playing my heart out at the freshman orientation camp and not camping inside a stupid hospital. TMD!!! However, my wish is simple: to live an ordinary life like any one else. For this basic wish, I am willing to take any suffering at all cost, includes giving in my life.

At this moment, besides the blood, pain and suffering, I feel so blessed. It is strange that the more people possess, the more desire they would have and less satisfied they would be. On the other hand, the less one owns, the more grateful and contented he would be. For every breath I am taking now, I am glad to know that I am living.

P/S: God, let me open my mouth soon as I want to speak, to sing badly.

pursuing my happiness with passion@| 8:49 PM

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