Hospitalization 002

Where did we talk last time?

Oh yes, I have finished telling the story of the two female patients in the same room. This time I want to tell the story of the nurse who took care of my grandma.

My first impression of that nurse was not good. The day before the operation, when I was just hospitalized, I was worried about how to take care of myself if I had a needle in my left hand and a bandage in my right hand, and I couldn’t feel my right arm. As I was talking, the nurse came over and whispered to me several times: I will help you tomorrow, just pay me some money. I wonder, huh? That old lady's home pays you to work full-time. Are you not good? What's even more outrageous is that in the afternoon, my auntie in the same room said the same thing to me in a very low voice, so softly that I almost had to guess by mouth: Pay some money tomorrow and let the nurse help you. After that, she said in a lower voice, word by word: Don't let the old lady know. Coming back on the day of surgery is really difficult. However, in the end I didn't ask. When the nurse and the nurse helped me get dressed again, I asked the nurse several times how much she paid for a day. "Two hundred and six," she said finally. Well, I think as long as I survive such a day, wouldn't I be equivalent to a net profit of 260? Then I'll cook it. If you really need something, ask someone else. Not paying anyway.

Later, in the middle of the night, a few of us sat on the bed while the nurse and her friend sat across from the room, and we chatted together. This friend came to work in the same village as her, and has been on this floor for five years. Now that the epidemic is over, they work as nurses, and the daily activity area is only this floor. If I really need to buy something, I have to rely on other staff to bring it up.

She complained that her eldest son just got married, and she and her daughter-in-law didn't want to go back to the village, they liked to stay in the city.

"Young people don't want to go back to the village now," she said.

"Which city?" I wonder if it's either first-tier or second-tier.

"Zhumadian." The nurse replied. In Zhumadian City, Henan, her son and daughter-in-law rent a 120-square-meter house for 500 yuan.

"Marriage is expensive," she sighed. "I have to buy a house. To buy a house, I need a mortgage and a dowry. I have to pay for it. In the future, when my second son gets married, I will pay for it."

We asked her where her second son went to college. "Zhengzhou." She was proud.

"It's better to raise a daughter. You don't have to pay a dowry. When your parents get sick, all the daughters will be taken care of. There are not many people who take care of the son in person. It's good to find a nurse," said the aunt who lives in the same room.

"Mother-in-law prefers sons to daughters." The care worker's friend sighed. She also had two children, both girls.

I said, if you stay here, you might as well come here as a nurse. They are all taking care of the elderly, and they can make a lot of money every day here. There is no rest at home, and there is no money to earn. It is purely unpaid labor, and I have to be picked on by my mother-in-law.

"Yes. We have to come to the big cities, we can't make any money there," she said.

"I can't even be a carer," said the aunt who lives in the same room. "I sleep too lightly. You can sleep on the mat. And you can hear people calling you at night. You can continue to sleep when you're done. "

This auntie is very nice. On the last night, when I was talking about my plans after graduation, I said that I was going to study abroad. After talking for a while, she was silent for a while and asked me, "Did you have to go out?"

"Yes." I said.

"Beijing is so good. If I were your parents, I would definitely not let you go out. The epidemic is so fierce outside, and you went out. If something happened to your parents, it would be troublesome to fly back to take care of them," she said.

I did not answer.

At this point, everyone else's story is over. As for my story, it is rather silly and painful. Han, it means that every day at 7:40 in the morning, when the doctor who performed the operation on me came to the ward with his decent team of doctors, I usually didn't wake up. Sometimes I'm holding the quilt, sometimes I'm lying on my stomach, with headphones on, and sleeping soundly. He had to shake me awake before he could talk to me. On the morning of the operation, because the operation requires anesthesia, I cannot eat or drink that day. Then I wonder, how is this going to endure? Just can't keep up. After six o'clock, the nurse woke me up and asked me to take my temperature; after seven o'clock, the doctor who performed the operation came to the ward and pointed at me, who was still in a daze, and told his team that the little girl was going to have an operation today; eight After a while, the staff came over with the operating table. "Wake up! Surgery! Still sleeping!" he said.

Silly, also refers to my hair style these days is horrible. Thinking that many days after the operation, the wound should not touch water, so I took a bath the night before. I thought I had my hair tucked in while I was sleeping. I don't mind. After the operation and the first time I went to the bathroom, I realized that my head shape is really similar to that of a cockscomb. At that time, I had a needle in my left hand and gauze in my right hand, and I couldn't do a simple "dip a little water and press my hair". I just stayed in the ward for four days.

The night before discharge. I was wearing a hat in the ward. "Why are you wearing a hat in the house?" Auntie asked me.

"Press the hair." I said.

"Damn, your hair has been curled up for a day or two."

"But I will be discharged from the hospital tomorrow. I have to see my parents."

It hurts, it hurts when the needle is inserted. In fact, I didn't feel it during the operation. Because at that time, the anaesthetic was coming. I can't even control my right arm with my mind. It just hangs there. After the operation, I had to hold it with the other hand, like holding someone else's warm limb. (This is a precious opportunity for the individual to split himself a little) But getting a needle is different. I still felt it back then. The nurse said that in case of accidental surgery, medicine and blood transfusions are needed, and the largest needle in the outpatient clinic is used for the drip during the operation. "Your blood vessels are not as thick as mine." The nurse searched the back of my hand for a long time, but couldn't get the needle down.

Infusions are also painful. Because after each infusion, the platelets in the hand are working hard to clot. As a result, when the next pack of liquid needs to be infused, the liquid will directly wash away the wound (barrier) that is almost healed. And because the needle I pierced was very large, the flow rate was very large, and the pressure of the liquid was very strong, the wound was immediately washed away. If the pressure is small and the infusion is done little by little, it may not be so painful. anyways, so every time I infuse a new fluid, I think my pain is several times more than someone else's.

There is one more outrageous thing. The day before I was discharged from the hospital, I thought that there was no medicine anyway, so I pulled out the needle. It hurts me to wear this every day. When the nurse came, the transparent sterile sticker was halfway through and said, "Hey, it's all glued together and can't be pulled off." I'll go back and get a pair of scissors. And so she went.

She didn't come back for the next two hours.

For the past two hours, I was like a needle. As long as I move, the needle still dangles.

I called the nurse station. The sister who was on the line said, oh, you will be discharged from the hospital tomorrow. We have to make sure myrrh for you tomorrow before the needle can be pulled! Then hung up.

After an unknown amount of time, the nurse who had removed the needle tube and removed half of it for me came to take the temperature of the patient in our room and said, I forgot. I will dismantle it for you now. :)

Dressing is also painful. When the dressing was changed a day after the operation, the gauze was sticking to the wound layer by layer. It hurts every time I tear off a piece of gauze. When all the gauze was torn off, the wound had 8 stitches, and blood was bubbling from the gap of each stitch. The second time I went to change the dressing, I also told the doctor, "Hey, look, this time there are only two needles with blood coming out of it!"

As I write, I suddenly feel that I am not a person who is not afraid of pain.

In fact, I have had a low-grade fever for the past few days. 37.2 degrees. Because the old lady kept saying it was stuffy and hot, but I didn't think so. She kept asking the nurse to turn on the air conditioner. Our house has air conditioning all the time. I felt unwell, but I didn't say anything, even after having a low-grade fever, persistent indigestion, and persistent thirst. It seems that I really can't stand the air conditioner and really don't like to express my discomfort. And, when I found out that I had a low-grade fever, what I thought was not how to treat it, but if my temperature was detected in the community when I got home, where would I live. So domesticated, so humble.

This incident had a negative impact on me. It's not the physical pain, but because of this surgery, not only can I not use my right hand for a month (the long-awaited Frisbee Open is 80% impossible), but I need to go through countless extra procedures, including reimbursement, rehabilitation, dressing changes, dismantling. Lines and so on, which made my trip to Beijing postponed indefinitely. This gave me a deep sense of powerlessness. All through June, including May, I lived on the idea of a "luxury graduation trip". However, like Kuafu chasing the sun, or like Sisyphus pushing a stone, every time I get closer to my trip, a new predicament pulls me back. It is said that "the bitterness comes first and then the sweetness", but I have been suffering for a long time, and I have been enduring it all the time, but I cannot wait for the sweet day. (sigh)

Now, I'm staying up late again because it makes the day go by faster. While staying awake longer and doing more things is better for my personal development, I now feel that the need to stay awake all day is painful and cruel to me. Just stay awake for a few hours, do something, try to fool myself that I'm productive today.

I started allowing myself a lot of carbonated drinks every day again. I basically quit in May and June, but not now.

Done! Afterwards, I'd love to share with you some of the fun things I've had in those few months of empty life. And what I saw in April when my grandpa went from the ICU to the burial. The days in these few months are very monotonous, and it feels that there is not a lot of information density. Well, hopefully it will actually be written down.

Wish you all the best.

Xiyu

July 3

in Beijing

(It's raining in bursts outside)