Starting to recover little by little
On the second day after surgery, I developed an ileus and had an ileus tube inserted through my nose. By the seventh day, I began to appreciate the adaptability of the human body, as the constant sensation of a foreign object in the back of my nose, which I felt at first, no longer bothered me after three days.
I slept better than I had since the surgery, and I woke up feeling well-rested, wondering if my body was returning to normal or if I was just getting used to the environment.
It was 4:00 AM.
That's still enough, though. Even in the CHAGE & ASKA song 'Morning Moon,' it's 5:00 AM when time turns the two of them into morning. Until then, I had been having nights where I really couldn't tell if I was asleep or awake.
The morning of the seventh day after surgery. It was decided that instead of draining the contents of my stomach and intestines, they would inject contrast medium into my body through the tube in my nose to take an X-ray. Because of the contrast medium, the draining of the green liquid—which I could never tell was stomach acid or bile—was suspended for a while. My stomach felt uncomfortable.
Around noon, perhaps because the contrast medium had come through, I had my first solid bowel movement since the surgery. My intestines hadn't been moving until then, you see. I was hoping that this would get my bowels moving and flush everything out, but starting with that, I had bowel movements about twice an hour... I had 13 bowel movements by that night. That's just too extreme.
They took X-rays at 10:00 AM and 3:00 PM, and at 4:00 PM, the doctor came and said, 'The test results are the best they've been so far.' It was decided that we would look at the results of tomorrow morning's X-ray and then remove the ileus tube.
Late that night, I couldn't sleep again and was watching TV, but I found it strange myself that I felt like eating ice cream or something cold. I don't usually eat sweets at all. My desire to drink alcohol had completely disappeared.
The next day, the eighth day after surgery. I had an X-ray in the morning, and since there were no problems, it was decided to remove the ileus tube. At the same time, it was decided to remove the drain tube coming out from the side of my navel to drain the fluid accumulating in my abdomen.
Wait, this tube is reasonably thick. A tube that pierces the skin from my flank and reaches deep into my body. How are you going to pull it out? Don't tell me it's another surgery?? Then, the nurse casually started putting on gloves next to the bed. 'Wait? Are you going to pull this out just like that...?' 'Yes, it'll be fine (smile).' 'What about anesthesia...?' 'It'll be fine (smile).'
Squelch!!
It was pulled out just like that. It certainly didn't hurt. It didn't hurt, but it was a strange, first-time sensation of having something pulled out from inside my body (which is exactly what it was).
Thus, the many tubes that had been connecting my body to the IV stand—the IV, the drain, the ileus tube, and the urinary catheter—were all gone, and finally, the only thing connected to my body was the IV drip.
Light. I felt so light. Freedom is wonderful. As I was walking down the hospital corridor for rehabilitation with enough energy to skip, a nurse said to me, 'Oh, you look so much more refreshed!' I was happy.
Also, another thing that made me happy was that I was able to take a shower for the first time in eight days after surgery. That felt really good.
When I was a university student, my house was completely destroyed in the Great Hanshin Earthquake, and I lived in an evacuation center for a few days. I remember how incredibly good it felt to take a bath for the first time after escaping from Kobe, which took half a day, thanks to my father's company providing us with company housing.
Someone please research the relationship between people and the happiness of taking a bath.
I wasn't able to write anything very interesting, but that was what happened around the first week after surgery, when I started to move toward recovery little by little.