So just to continue with something from the last Blog I posted, I mentioned that going from what could have been me working at NASA to being a below average earner, when I (barely) passed my VCE exams I went to Tafe, firstly because I'm a hands on kind guy and not one to sit in a big room being lectured to. No thanks, not for me. So I studied for 4 years and was lucky enough to score my first 3 month contract job, from there it becomes easier just start bunny hoping around work places and make your way to a long term contract and even permanency. Now days I work for Ambulance Victoria fixing computers, panasonic tough books and dabbing with java and oracle, sql databases, pretty cool field to be in.
I guess the point of all that was that everybody around me believed I was smarter than I felt, either I was ignorant to my intelligence (oxymoron love it!) or too humble for my own good. In fact I was ignorant to my intelligence, my brother would always tell me it's always the Cuvello's running the company and we always get paid peanuts for it, and you know what? He's right too. My dad at the tender age of 12 was working for his father in his pub by 17 he was pretty much running the whole show (so that's what he tells me anyway), my brother was the hardest of 4 others when he was working permanent as a painter many years back and mum was running her brothers camping store after he sold the business to another.
As for me? Well if I took a week off work without being back filled you don't want to know what the ramifications would be to the Ambulance service, I'd rather not scare anyone so I'll just say that what I do is important enough that it does affect lives and thankfully I am back filled when I take leave so I don't have to worry about that :)
So with that off my chest it's a big high five to me, after those years of abuse I still turned out ok, but to be honest I would be lying if I didn't have depressive and suicidal thoughts during that period and even today, yes I maybe more happy with life and I do love the fact I can walk around without back pain and perspiring just walking to the mailbox and back inside but I think that last part of me the mind part needs some work.
The operation works on using your emotions to talk to your brain and determine your level of hunger and fullness, what this also does is cause you to become an emotional wreck, so mood swings, violent outbursts that you don't realise you are doing and then sometimes I just watch a tv show or read a book and burst into tears for no reason at all.. pretty freaky stuff.
So let's go back to the operation, I will assume you have some idea on what happens, (if not I posted links in the first blog that you can read) so it's post op, I'm woken up and the first day is just a blur (obviously) well not really, I almost died that night actually. After the operation I had a deflated left lung, which can happen during the operation, my main problem was the amount of phlegm I was trying to cough up that night and with one lung it's hard enough breathing let alone coughing. So anyway I ended up in a coughing fit that night and didn't have the strength to swallow or cough by the time this phlegm hit my throat so I'm sitting there looking around for the bed buzzer while trying not to stress over the fact I'm choking on this stuff, realising it was too far away the only thing I could think of was, well this ain't gonna happen, I didn't just do all this so I would suffocate on my own juices, so I gritted my teeth and sat up threw myself back onto the bed and exhaled as hard as possible and managed to cover my curtains with well yeah you know what. No amount of tremadole, morphine or whatever else they pumped into me could subside the pain, but I was happy I told the nurse what had happened and she gave me a stern talking to as if I was to blame, I just looked at her and said the curtains a mess, clean it up will you.
Bitch...
That last one I didn't say, but I did mention that the bed buzzer was too far away, so if you find yourself in hospital make it the first on your checklist.
As previously mentioned the hardest thing I had to do was admit I had a problem, well the second hardest thing I had to do was the day 2 post operation x-rays.
I was taken in to this room and God Bless the man who took care of me, he is such a nice guy he helped me out of bed every time I needed to go wash my face and clean up, when my bed was moved between area's he was always there, very chatty person always had a nice thing to say.
That reminds me I should go find out if he's still there, I'd like for him to see me now he too said I was an inspiration for him, perhaps I have underestimated just how important this decision was to make, I knew there was a chance of death, but I think when people say the choice you made I never could, I don't know what that means, even today, I get it when people try to explain it to me but I feel like something is missing, not sure..
Anyway so the second hardest thing I've had to do, these x-rays I had to do standing up, yeah standing up people 20 hours after having my entire stomach and bowel system rearranged I was asked to stand on my own for 5 minutes while they take x-rays. Once again no amount of morphine could help with this pain, standing there felt like an eternity, I was shaking at the knees, sweating profusely and it felt like somebody had a 50kgs weight in my stomach, horrifying experience to say the least.
So that lasted 5 minutes then 7 days later I was finally discharged, nothing exciting happened during this time except for learning to use my lower half again (cathodes have an interesting feeling when removed), learning to walk was fun and tiring at the same time but any chance I got I was up and about with a walking frame trying to move around. The biggest hurdle was my left lung, I was asked to breathe into a straw that was in a cup full of water, blow bubbles that is. It's interested to note just how hard that is to do with only one lung, you can't take a deep breathe, you can't sustain a long exhale and you become light headed very quickly, but after a week it sorted itself out and I was back to normal.
I might stop there for now, the next blog ill talk about the diet I was on post op and my stupidity of trying to go back to work 3 weeks after surgery then realising it should have been 5-6 weeks after the scar tissue flared up and put me on my back for a fortnight.
Thanks for reading,
Big Age.
Remember any questions or comments you can email me directly evileldrin@gmail.com or add me on facebook if you haven't already you can find me under Adrian Cuvello
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