I can vividly remember the nightmares that immediately followed my brain surgery in the ICU. I was convinced that I had another head (result from a drain, attached to my head) and I had frighteningly real "visions", for days after the surgery. I have done a little research and found out that it's fairly common to have disturbing dreams following brain surgery. This dream went on forever and I was terrified of the ICU, all the staff of the ICU. I was so scared, at some point I pulled out my breathing tube, repeatedly, which I hear is pretty hard to do. I had this idea that the Graveyard Shift of the ICU practiced evil on ICU patients when all the Day Shift and Swing Shift (4-12) left. I included the blood techs in the Demonic subgroup because it seemed to me that the blood guys came every four hours, and not painlessly nor quickly drew blood (found out later, that it was every 4). I saw blood-curdling sights on more than one trip to the MRI tube as well. I was so afraid on one occasion, I forgot to be claustrophobic.
I begged the doctors to let me go to Acute Rehab, and they did. The nurses in Acute Rehab were all business but at least I wasn't afraid for my life. I needed a lot of sleep after I had the tumor removed. I didn't understand at first why so much time was left blank between therapists. I soon learned your brain craves sleep after a trauma. You sleep like a baby or maybe a cat. Anyway, you sleep a lot, that's the point. Getting as much sack time as possible becomes an overriding concern. When I dreamed (?) again, it was about overhearing private conversations in a break room where unfortunately I could hear everything being said. I came to find out later,(I was shown by a nurse) that my room did have some connection to where the therapists hung out and I could hear everything that was said. One therapist couldn't stand me and it took a little getting used to but I started using what I heard to modify my behavior to better be an ideal patient. For instance, I was a picky eater so I ordered exactly what I could eat, so I'd receive 100% credit for eating my meal even though my "meal" was pretty minimal. (Yeah, yeah, I realize it's really, really, petty but I was tryin' to survive man!) It didn't matter where the information came from I used it. Soon, I was in everybody's good graces and it was time for me to go.
Don't let anyone tell you differently, either, the nurses run the show. Doctors and visitors come and go, but the Nursing Staff is running things in your hospital, 24/7. Nurses dictate when you eat when you use the restroom, IF you use it, when you get your medicine, and almost every aspect of your hospital world. Whether you are happy or sad depends entirely on your nurse du jour. Then I noticed the chill between the nurses and the therapists. Brrrrrrr!
I never did decide if the scariest night of my life was a dream or a huge conspiracy. I tend to think it was a really, really, bad dream with some real results: My hair is coming back like crazy but with a white stripe, like Pepe Le Pew/Stephen King. I'm very different (better, I hope) than I was before the surgery. Does it really matter where the change came from?
I begged the doctors to let me go to Acute Rehab, and they did. The nurses in Acute Rehab were all business but at least I wasn't afraid for my life. I needed a lot of sleep after I had the tumor removed. I didn't understand at first why so much time was left blank between therapists. I soon learned your brain craves sleep after a trauma. You sleep like a baby or maybe a cat. Anyway, you sleep a lot, that's the point. Getting as much sack time as possible becomes an overriding concern. When I dreamed (?) again, it was about overhearing private conversations in a break room where unfortunately I could hear everything being said. I came to find out later,(I was shown by a nurse) that my room did have some connection to where the therapists hung out and I could hear everything that was said. One therapist couldn't stand me and it took a little getting used to but I started using what I heard to modify my behavior to better be an ideal patient. For instance, I was a picky eater so I ordered exactly what I could eat, so I'd receive 100% credit for eating my meal even though my "meal" was pretty minimal. (Yeah, yeah, I realize it's really, really, petty but I was tryin' to survive man!) It didn't matter where the information came from I used it. Soon, I was in everybody's good graces and it was time for me to go.
Don't let anyone tell you differently, either, the nurses run the show. Doctors and visitors come and go, but the Nursing Staff is running things in your hospital, 24/7. Nurses dictate when you eat when you use the restroom, IF you use it, when you get your medicine, and almost every aspect of your hospital world. Whether you are happy or sad depends entirely on your nurse du jour. Then I noticed the chill between the nurses and the therapists. Brrrrrrr!
I never did decide if the scariest night of my life was a dream or a huge conspiracy. I tend to think it was a really, really, bad dream with some real results: My hair is coming back like crazy but with a white stripe, like Pepe Le Pew/Stephen King. I'm very different (better, I hope) than I was before the surgery. Does it really matter where the change came from?
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