Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Holiday in Hospital

How did you spend your long-awaited Hari Raya holiday over the weekend? By going on a overseas vacation? By visiting your extended family and enjoying free flow of festive food? By eating jars and jars of cookies? How nice. I also want.

I spent mine in the hospital with a spread of hospital food, IV drips and pills - all the way until Hari Raya holiday officially ended. Bummer level God.

#throwtable #kickthechair

Let me go back to two weeks ago before I tell you more about my recent hospital stay.

On Saturday night two weeks ago, I was attending a wedding dinner in KL with my husband. Halfway through the wedding dinner, I began to feel a bit of back aches and muscle pains. They were not so serious, so I simply thought I was too tired, had not been sleeping well or coming down with flu. When we came home that midnight, I swallowed a Panadol.

The next morning, the body pains were still there. How weird. Usually, paracetamol works wonder to eliminate body pains or muscle aches. After breakfast, I took one more paracetamol. My body pains were eased off but they came back few hours later, after the paracetamol's effect ran off. That whole day, I started having on-and-off body pains but didn't know if I had fever or not.

On Monday morning last week, I asked my husband to send me to a clinic as my body pains had become outrageous, rheumatic-like, and I had chills too. I felt cold all the time (jacket and socks were part of my compulsory uniforms last week) and was not able to sleep well the night before due to the massive body pains. The doctor in the clinic said I had a viral infection hence the fever, body pains and chills. He prescribed me with some antibiotics and ibuprofen.

The above happened again. I felt slightly better after taking the medicines but once their effects ran off, I began having another bout of pains, chills, headaches and fever again. These cycles repeated until the next morning. Although, I just saw a doctor the day before, I urged my husband to send me to hospital's Emergency Unit (ER) because I wanted to have a blood test. I demanded to know what the hell was going on with my body because I had never had anything like this in my life before.

The doctor in the ER ran a blood test on me after he looked at me and temped my fever. He thought I was having a Dengue Fever but my blood test result read that I was dehydrated and having some infection somewhere as my neutrophils level was higher than normal. I was sent home with the same antibiotic prescription and three pills of more powerful analgesic. The on-and-off fever, body pains, chills and headaches still went strong for the next couple of days and I was basically bed-ridden for many days by now.

By Thursday, I felt slightly better because on Thursday night (when the medicines were at work), I could bake some buns!

Who knew that on Friday evening, I began feeling really shitty and succumbed so much pain again. My husband sent me to the same clinic that I went to on Monday but the doctor told me that I should just go to ER and do another blood test again because my high fever had gone way too long. She could not help me because she couldn't do any blood test until this week due to Hari Raya holiday. I left that clinic and my husband drove me to ER again.

Luckily, thanks to Hari Raya holiday, the ER was quite empty and I was treated almost immediately. The doctor ordered another blood test and while waiting for the blood test result, I was asked to take two Panadols - scared that I may collapse because I had been nurturing 38.5-39 degree fever for many days.

About an hour later, the ER doctor read me my second blood test result of the week. He said that I was having a Viral Fever but the neutrophils level was lower. However, since I had been having on-and-off high fever for one week already, he suggested "Do you want to be warded?" I was stunned and there was awkward silence as I was registering his suggestion. "Oh. Is it necessary?" "If you stay here, we will be able to monitor your fever and do further tests on you. You can opt not to be warded too." 

After some deep considerations, I decided to just be warded. To be honest, the thoughts of suffering many more rounds of body pains, chills and headaches alone at home were very traumatic to me. I needed help, was exhausted from the fever nonsense and wanted to be healthy again very soon. Further, Naomi happened to throw tantrum at the ER and looking at that, the ER doctor even tried to convince me to just stay in the hospital for few days so I can rest.

I have actually planned my life pretty nicely when it comes to hospital stays - that I would not be staying in hospital except when I give birth. Nevertheless, I guess I could not help it this time around. So, hospital it was.

Minutes after I confirmed that I wanted to be admitted, at around 9.15pm, I was hooked into IV drip. Before the nurse pricked my hand again, I told him, "Bang, is it going to be painful or not? Please don't make this so painful, OK! I hate and am scared of needles." Then he sprayed something on my hand and mentioned that the spray would slightly numb my hand while he pricked the needle. "Oh really? Got such thing? Why the nurses previously never applied this spray to me?" "Oh, because usually this spray is for children". -_-

Damn painful.

While I was being put on the IV drip, my husband already went home with Naomi because she was crying buckets and her tantrum fits were pretty bad (she thought she was the one who was seeing doctor so she wanted to go home badly). In the end, I got admitted to the hospital like a hobo - no accompanying family, no one took care my hospital deposit until the next day and I only had my wallet and hand phone with me, all placed in a small white thin plastic bag. My extra clothes, specs, towel, etc - basically all of my personal necessities were still at home because I didn't expect to be hospitalized that night. My husband only delivered my bag and settled my deposit the next morning - I guess he was too occupied becoming Naomi's Mommy for the night. My MIL is in Thailand since last week so my husband had to take care of Naomi on his own when I was away.

Here's my boring first breakfast in the hospital on the next day.

Breakfast, Day 1.

When my attending doctor did his morning round, he told me that he would only release me from the hospital after he made sure that I had no fever at all in the next 24 hours. In addition, my urine test came out not so good. My urine was so dirty because of the infection I had for many days. That means, I still could not leave the hospital as yet.

Before he left, he pointed something, "What is your urine doing on your bed table?" I would love to reply him, "Oh this is my DIY room freshener. My urine smells like Lavender so I just had to put it next to me. Hmmm..." But, I refrained myself from saying that. I told the doctor,"It's not my urine. It's my temporary contact lenses' case because last night I didn't bring it." The nurse actually gave me a small container that is usually used to collect urine sample for my temporary contact lenses' case and a small bottle of saline water for my lens solution. The nurse said the container was sterile so okay lah.

Cool contact lenses' case. You want?

My husband and Naomi visited me three times in a day but their visits were not long because Naomi was very naughty. On Saturday morning, she actually played masak-masak (cooking) with the small butter from my breakfast tray, saline water for my contact lenses and anti-bacterial mouthwash. She poured the butter and the whole content of my mouthwash bottle to a plastic container and I had to buy a new one because of this. Shortly after Chef Naomi did her short cooking show, my husband quickly dragged her home to minimize more damage in the ward.

My favourite visitor. 

My lunch was served exactly at 12pm. This lunch was surprisingly very good that no single grain of rice was left on my plate. Maybe I was very famished during lunch time but this was the last time I remember I still had good appetite.

Lunch. Day 1.

Afternoon tea time. Hospital's hot chocolate drink sucked to the max. It's not Milo and very tasteless. I had to add the creamer and sugar to the drink yet it still tasted pretty awful. Next time, please bring some Milo from home if you get hospitalized, okay?

Tea time. Day 1.

My dinner came at 6pm sharp. Sadly, I had gastric pain and felt very nauseous on Saturday evening. I barely touched my dinner. I only ate like one spoon of rice and all the watermelon cuts, I guess. I felt so bad wasting the food because I knew I would be hungry later on but really, I have lost all my appetite.

Dinner. Day 1.

My daughter had her dinner, chocolate cake dessert and shower in the hospital before she went out with Dad on Saturday night.

Madagascar on TV, yo!

My doctor promised me that I could go home on Sunday morning. Before he came, I was served with breakfast. Breakfast in the hospital is served very early, around 7am. I already woke up at 6am something when I was hospitalized! What a miracle. I am not a morning person. I guess the life in the hospital is so boring that everyone sleeps very early at night and wakes up so early the next morning. Even my room-mate in the hospital showered and washed her hair before 7am (and the sky was still dark). It's not like she was going to office or something.

Here's my porridge breakfast - my last meal in the hospital. I specifically ordered porridge because I was so sick of bread. I wanted to puke every time I thought of bread.

Breakfast, Day 2.

The chicken porridge tasted fine, until I spooned the chicken out. OMG. There were huge chicken chunks in the chicken porridge. Why not might as well put the whole chicken there, huh? It was so laborious to eat chicken chunks with the watery porridge like this. As I ate the porridge, I plotted a grand plan to write this chicken chunk matter in the feedback form when I left the hospital later on but eh? Apparently no feedback form was handed to me last Sunday so I couldn't complain about the porridge.

Horrifying chicken in the porridge. Don't do this at home.

Not long after breakfast, my doctor showed up. He briefly checked me then announced, "You have no fever so as promised, you can go home this morning. But, since you are not totally well, you must rest for few days at least and see me again on Wednesday."

YES! Finally, I was discharged, with truckload of medicines and 3 bottles of anti-bacterial mouthwash.

When I left the hospital, I felt better because I didn't have any more fever but I still had to deal with headaches, gastric pains and nausea every now and then so I must lie down often. Also, I was bloated. I don't know why but after I left the hospital, my face, feet and face were swollen for a few days. I couldn't fit to my normal pants because my stomach was and is now still very bloated. I was not even bloated when I was pregnant. Tell me, was it the IV drips?

Moreover, I have lost my appetite until now. I feel hungry and crave various food all the time but once I swallow my first spoon of food, I cannot stomach my food. How torturing.

That's all my ramblings about my first real experience staying in the hospital because I was sick. I am still in my journey to recovery now.

By the way, I actually blogged in my Dayre when I was in hospital because there was no laptop in the hospital. Somehow, mobile blogging made more sense to kill the time while in the hospital.

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