2013

It was good to be back home, but being out of hospital I was now responsible for myself. Without Vivien that would have been impossible. Simple tasks like getting out of bed were major undertakings with my stomach still extremely tender and full of staples. Going to the bathroom was impossible without help, and the effort of getting there invariably left me on the point of collapse. Trying to feed myself would have been completely out of the question.

Still we struggled through, but the twice a week visits back to Birmingham to monitor the op recovery, check the wound and take blood samples became epic journeys of travelling discomfort, both on the road and waiting in the clinic. After the staples were removed our visit schedule reduced to weekly, but the hospital visits remained epic journeys to be endured. The new medications I was now taking (28 pills a day) had my head in a spin and body in a permanent state of revolt.

A revolution intensified after the staples came out, because the scar became infected, and leaked badly for the best part of a year, nothing could be done to stop it. Any movement stimulated more discharge, plus there was the ever present threat of being caught short. Yes those sudden and imperative medicinally induced urges to get to a toilet in a rush did not leave me upon discharge from the hospital. They remained for about as long as my leaking stomach continued to cause problems. This meant there had to be a very pressing reason for leaving the house, because it was just too embarrassing for either a wound leak or pressing call of nature to occur whilst out and about or in company, and heaven forfend both would visit simultaneously. 

Hence it became easier and more comfortable to stay in bed and read or watch television. This wasn’t so bad as it was possible with some TV channels to watch never ending documentaries about many subjects I had a keen interest in. Exercise was out of the question while the wound remained open and infected, and my medical regime still had my brain pretty much scrambled. But I knew I still had to eat and made a special effort to force myself every day, even so I lost a lot of weight. I’m six foot tall with a slim build and normally weigh 70 kg. This was the weight I carried into hospital. Post operation this increased by 10 kg due to water retention resulting from the liver not functioning properly during life support and surgery, so I was 80 kg on discharge. By September 2013 I’d lost 15 kg of normal weight and was down to 55 kg. 

Therefore 2013 was a slow and very challenging year. Certainly the biggest challenge I’d ever faced in my life. But even though most of the year was spent in quiet but desperate recovery, there was much time for reflection and contemplation.