Syntium – The Blog

Current mood: So-so

I got released from the hospital exactly a week ago, and spent most of that week at my parents. Haven’t really had any energy to write this blog, mainly I guess because I haven’t reallly processed this ordeal. Because an ordeal it was!

I did my Gastric bypass on April 21st, a Wednesday. I got admitted to the hospital the day before, and as the day progressed I got more and more anxious that something would go wrong. But I told myself that ‘It’s only natural to feel worried’. And then Wednesday came and I did the surgery.

The day after (Thursday) I was in such pain I cried. I couldn’t stop the tears from running. I think they took some X-rays or something (it’s a bit of a blur now) and then said that it was a leakage between the intestine and the ‘new’ stomach. So, Friday, I was in surgery again and they fixed it.

The days after that were pure hell! I had a tube through my nose and down my stomach. No one heard what I was saying, and I thought I was screaming my lungs out (well, if I had had the energy to do that, I would). They kept putting needles in me, that stopped working, so it was decided that I was to get some thingy in a larger vein in the neck. And despite local anaesthesia, it was most unpleasant. And the ugly thing was that the first time it failed. It just popped out again (I luckily didn’t feel this). So back and do it again. They fucked up and got the thing in wrong! Back a third time, and by then I was so sick of everything. It was such a weird day. Later that night, when I spoke to D on the phone, he said something like that it was like you didn’t know what day it was. Like someone had put in an extra day in the week that you had no clue which day it actually was. And it was exactly like I had felt! Like someone just wanted to fuck you over, or something. A soul mate thing maybe, that we both felt the same thing the same day.

Anyway, as I was down and put that thingy in my throat for the last time, even the nurses said that I seemed to have lost my spark. They tried talking to me, joking with me and I was like ‘Leave me alone ffs!’ I just wanted to get through this alive, and I thought of telling my family that they shouldn’t call or visit so that I could focus on getting better. But I didn’t. Guess I didn’t want to hurt them, and truth be told, maybe somewhere I realised I needed their support.

And thus, slowly but surely, I got better. Though I did feel almost stripped of all dignity when I needed help with Everything.

Now I am toying with the idea of getting a tattoo again. Something that symbolizes a new start, my new life. I think I know what I want, but there’s plenty of holes to put that money in. On the other hand, my new life begins now, so I should do it like.. Now! =)

//Syntium