I managed to make it through that first shower despite the fact I was exhausted enough to fall asleep while waiting for the nurse to bring the chair. However, I knew I was pushing myself well beyond my limits so I actually rang for the nurse before I was finished.
I figured it would take her some time to get there so I pulled the cord to summon the nurse when I was just finishing up with the wound flushing. Then I would have plenty of time to dry off, cover my wounds and dress before she arrived. No way was I allowing her to see me naked again.
I was so exhausted at this point i struggled to raise myself out of the chair to dry off my back side. I nearly fell as I tried to stand long enough to place a dry towel on the wet seat but I refused to admit I could not complete the simple tasks facing me.
By the time the nurse arrived I had managed to finish. I even got on my socks and slippers keeping them dry in the process but I was totally spent. I had to resign myself to being wheeled back to my room.
Once there, the matter of my ostomy bag had to be addressed. As I feared the seal has indeed been compromised by the method I had used to clean my wounds. The bag had to be removed and replaced with a new one.
The only one who seemed to be concerned with this was me so twice more in that day the whole process was repeated. Each time, no matter how the bag was protected or what I did trying to keep it dry I ended up with the same result.
The next morning when the surgeon arrived, he was thrilled with the improvement in both wounds. He decided I could be discharged as long as the treatment of flushing the wounds three times a day was continued.
The only question was where would I go. Patients are rarely discharged to home with open wounds, instead they are sent to nursing homes. The only exceptions happen when there is someone in the household who can perform the necessary care.
I didn't learn of these restrictions until the wound nurse came. She was there for final instructions about my ostomy and talking about what I needed to know when I got to the nursing home. You can imagine how this hit me. I had no plans of going to any nursing home, no way, no how.
We ended up in an emotional discussion. The nurse was trying to convince me why a nursing home was best and I was arguing my perception that such a place would be detrimental to my mental health. The nurse insisted I needed someone to change my dressings everyday.......and I once again volunteered Dave.
To be continued.....