What Building Sand In Fish Tank

Last month, Part III

from 18/08 to 26/08, resuscitation

In this post I refer to my memories of the intensive care unit. But I warn you ... article was heavy, unmotivated. Write between yesterday and today, I realized that he probably passed the worst eight days of my life.

I know it's nothing compared to the size of the "rebirth", but it is a necessary step through which we all go, others a bit 'better who is a bit' worse, when we undergo an operation under general anesthesia.

If after this warning you are convinced, however, to relive some of the experience with me, go ahead!

original photo intensive care unit of the Niguarda. The photos are kindly "sold" by Giancarlo:)

I open my eyes and I see that Sandra shakes my hand. Where am I? Ah, I must be in intensive care, I had surgery. I do not feel pain, my mouth is awfully mixed, and then ... what the fuck! What 's this stuff in my mouth? A tube going down his throat! Yuck, I can not stay with a tube that I'm turning in the language. So-so I was told - I could not speak because of the tube.

Sandra tells me, tells me that everything went well, that's all right. I try to make myself understood by gestures, I am annoyed by the throat. Obviously I can not make myself understood. I try to make some gestures, but I am not strong, I shake hands. Obviously I can not drink. Wet my lips with a gauze. I feel terribly stoned and after a while I go back to sleep.

The next morning I "stub". In reality there were two tubes. One by the nose, which I attended in breathing. The other, in the mouth, which avoided that filled me with phlegm, saliva, or I go into the lungs, I well understood. At that point I can speak, obviously with some discomfort in the throat.

are swollen like a balloon. My arms so swollen that I can not bend them. To lift them not even mentioned, I have not the strength. I always thirsty. My throat burns. I have the tongue dry. But do not give me a drink because they are full of fluid. It seems a contradiction but it is. The only thing that give me a drink of water is a siringone lead me in the mouth, but in fact are only 20 cc. My mouth is incredibly mixed, it seems to me that I have put in the mud is drying. Sometimes the mouth is so dry that almost sticks his tongue to the palate.

I call it "help desk", where we follow ...

I have severe pain in muscles. Being stuck in bed I feel nervous and worsens the pain. In the evening I make an injection of morphine in the leg. After 5 minutes I began to relax. After 15 minutes I have no more pain. The effect lasts me 4 to 6 hours. I can sleep in flashes, waking every one or two hours. Every time I wake up I raise my arm to show me a nurse and ask for water. Usual 20 cc syringe.

I sleep with a pillow under your arms to keep them higher and help them to deflate. Nevertheless, in the morning are more swollen the night before.

I have high blood sugar. Effect of cortisone, or maybe the solution that I inject into a vein 24 hours a day, which contains glucose. I can not eat sugar. I'm happy with the fruit sugar-free candies. I feel at least some taste in the throat that contrasts the thirst for a few minutes.

I have high blood pressure. Even up to 190/110. I feel my head explode. I feel my body burning. Every day I feel that with other antihypertensive drugs. This is wrong, this is a little bit, we increase the dose, and so on. etc..

Meanwhile doctors, while reassuring me, I explain that I have kidney failure important, so I'm full of liquid, so fill me with diuretics. Because of this failure, my heart, despite being strong, good and healthy, is struggling. I inject adrenaline to 'push' a bit-force him to seek a bit 'more. " I feel my heart beating strong. It seems to have a jackhammer inside the body. A feeling really annoying that no sane person Trials in life, I guess. Fortunately, in minutes.

I despair. I'm in a bad mood. For more information ask my dear (Sandra, mother, aunt, uncle) ... I say to all evil. I make a fuss. I cry. Does not suit me at all.

I can not eat. The first day I eat a fruit mousse. In the evening I do eat a broth, but I eat it reluctantly. The little water that I give it a very bad taste. Ground seems to drink. After a few days early to eat but very little, because I'm not hungry, I do not feel the taste, and what little I hear it sucks.

Every morning I wash. Before they make me shave with my electric razor. Then take a sponge and wash me in pieces, face, arms and legs. I do a wash underwear with the pan under the seat. The only thing I do alone in this task is to brush my teeth. I will wash my hair for the first time on day 7 after surgery.

course to evacuate voluntarily do not talk. Great masses of air move, in part release. But after 5 or 6 days you take measurements: a good clean, I recommend that you keep it longer in the body, so it actually does. In reality this does not even really that good.

not speaking of feelings of helplessness at the time to get on board bed for the first time, then even to stand and then sit on the chair beside the bed. It seems titanic experience. The legs are not responding. The head turns a lot. Oh my God, but what's happening to me? How will I return to normal?

Moral of the story: I had to stay 6 days in intensive care at the end there the rest 8. My worst eight days of life, probably.

A feeling that I will never forget. Knowing that the intervention is successful, yet I felt bad as ever you were in your life. A sense of powerlessness, impatience, intolerance total. Failing to make the days go by. Wait forever. Endless nights. Infinite pains.

Next to me was an Indian boy of 4 months (four months). They took him to intensive care that I was already aware. He was crying, but they immediately intubated. Certainly continued to cry, but being intubated, poor, could not even be heard. She wept in silence. I'm crying as I write this, remembering the alarms that signaled continuously monitor arrhythmias, fibrillation, arrest or something of that his tiny heart. The doctors did not know whether they work or not. There was obviously a risk of death during surgery. Also high was the risk of death for his condition. One night they had to make a "maneuver" emergency, they came a couple of doctors and have saved my life. But you want to know what is most heartbreaking? I told my wife, who for religious reasons, religious or whatever, the child has been virtually abandoned by his parents, refused, because of ill health or life threatening. After the first few days, no longer come to see anyone. What torment!

One thing I remember positively, and I can not report. The kindness, patience and kindness of nurses. All, without exception, are absolutely prepared to face situations of patients like me are desperate. And believe me, there are patients who are and who are much worse than me. I've heard, it was difficult to see why I could not turn my neck and look at all sides-patients who are constantly trying to rip the tube from the nose or throat, urinary catheter. Patients who spoke for themselves, who complained loudly that raved.

Similarly, I recognize the ability of the medical department of resuscitation. I was followed 24 hours a day from doctors who turns discussing the situation, treatment, what to do, I comforted, I explained.

I would like to thank them one by one, but do not even remember their names. Apparently in those days I was not polished enough to be stored. But I remember their faces.

Special recognition to Dr. Pedrazzini I do for her affection, its so peaceful to speak to me, with his ability to calm down so marked, to give me security and hope.

concludes, resuscitation is a mandatory step towards rehabilitation, to care. A passage very hard, morally and physically. A passage from which they all emerge psychologically unscathed. A shift that fortunately most of us do unconsciously. We who has not yet happened to be asleep, operated, and live the experience of resuscitation. And, no matter how you tell that was their worst experience-perhaps-of life, you'll never know until you happen to live on your skin.

But the grandeur and beauty of life is that in any case is a path that must be addressed, that each of us must face if he was asked to do so. Flee means to appreciate life do not know. And that, that I am reborn, I can neither accept nor justify it.