Showing posts with label housebound. Show all posts
Showing posts with label housebound. Show all posts

Wednesday, 23 January 2013

Being Prepared for Surgery

Before we go any further, you should know that this blog post does not contain any medical advice. There are no exercises, no medications (or alternative remedies), no recommendations for tests or monitoring, and no diet guidelines.

So, if this isn't a medical guide, what is it?

This is a list of things that I do in the days or weeks before planned surgery to make my life easier in the days and weeks after the surgery. Of course, the nature of the surgery will change some things, but I'll try to be as general as possible.

Here in the UK, most people will know their surgery date at least a month in advance (for routine, non-urgent procedures). I like to use that time to think about the effects the surgery may have on my life while I'm recovering, and try to come up with as many solutions as possible before the problems have a chance to rear their ugly heads!

In my opinion, there is almost nothing worse than feeling weak and feeble, in pain, limited by wounds/dressings/plaster casts. Add to that the feeling of unwashed hair and skin, unwanted body hair, and flaking nails, and it's almost a recipe for disaster! Here are a few of the things that I do to prepare my body for surgery and to keep myself looking as normal as possible afterwards.

Hair:

Book a haircut as close to the date of your surgery as humanly possible - this will ensure that your hair looks as good as possible, even if you're not able to give it much attention. If you have very long, thick or curly hair, consider a change of style to one that needs minimal maintenance. This doesn't always mean short! My hair is wavy/curly and prone to frizz. Short styles, for me, mean endless conditioning and styling products and hours of blowdrying or using straightening irons or tongs. With a blunt cut just above shoulder length, I can get away with scrunching a little mousse through my hair and leaving it to dry naturally.

If your hair is coloured, make sure you get your roots done, preferably just before surgery, so that it will look fresh for as long as possible while you recover and build up enough energy to get to the salon for the next colour!

Styling your hair may be another hurdle, especially if the surgery affects your hands/arms/shoulders, or is likely to leave you feeling very weak. I recommend investing in the following basic kit:
1. Dry shampoo: Having hair that looks bouncy and freshly-washed without getting out of bed is like a miracle! If possible, try a couple of brands and stock up on cans of your favourite in various sizes. You may still need help to apply it, massage it in and brush it out again, but it still takes considerably less effort for both you and your helper than a full shampoo and conditioner, plus it doesn't leave your hair wet, so no risk of getting chilled (or getting wet bedclothes)
2. Alice bands and 'crocodile' clips: These are enough to hold your hair back from your face, even if you have one hand out of action. Some people find the fabric bands easier than solid ones, but I'm a fan of the solid ones. The wider the better, in order to cover as much hair as possible! Having the crocodile clips as well means that you can try out a variety of styles with minimal effort or assistance
3. A wide-toothed comb is great for gentle hair-styling (or just detangling); if you can get one with a long handle, so much the better!

If your surgery means that blowdrying your hair is not an option, there are two things you can do. The first is to resign yourself to having a different style for a few weeks, working with your natural hair texture. As you'll be giving your hair a break from heated styling tools, it's a good opportunity to use intensive deep conditioners. Put a soft towel over your pillow and apply the conditioner. Massage your scalp well, and then comb the conditioner through to the ends of your hair. It can stay there until you next wash your hair. Not particularly glamourous or attractive, but your hair will be in better condition afterwards! The other option is to book a course of regular blow-dry treatments at your hairdressing salon. It's a lovely thing to do to pamper yourself, and may be the only way to get your hair washed and styled properly if you have an arm in a cast, but consider how you're going to get to and from the salon if you're not up to walking and not allowed to drive.

Skin:

After surgery, you may not feel like keeping up with your usual skincare regime. I like to cleanse, tone and moisturise, and have various favourite products to exfoliate and moisturise my skin. This all goes out of the window after any surgery, but especially if I have an arm in plaster. Simple cleansing wipes are my saving grace - they remove everything (even betadine, chlorhexidine and EEG glue - all of which you may encounter during your hospital stay!), and leave my skin feeling lovely. At a pinch, you could use them to wash your body, but I wouldn't recommend doing this more than once! My top five tips for skin have to be:
1. If you wax, book a wax prior to your surgery: If you don't wax, think about whether you're going to keep up with whatever method you normally use, and whether it would bother you if you didn't keep up with it. Waxing lasts for 4-6 weeks for most people, and there's nothing quite like feeling smooth and polished when you're a bit weak.
2. Simple cleansing wipes
3. A pleasantly fragranced deodorant (I find spray easier than any other method of application)
4. A real sponge and a mild liquid soap: it's hard to rinse properly if you're washing in bed or in a chair, but it's not the end of the world if a mild soap stays on your skin - aqueous cream can be used instead of liquid soap - it doesn't feel particularly 'cleansing' but it does work, and it'll leave your skin lovely and soft
5. A luxurious moisturiser: it may be more difficult to apply, but having the luxury of my favourite scent as well as soft skin is worth the time it takes to apply it! There are lots of different types of moisturiser, depending on your needs - it may be easier to use a body butter that's almost solid and won't run everywhere, a pump dispenser, or a spray.

Cosmetic:

More than any other part of me, my face gives me away after surgery. It takes almost nothing to make me look pale and drawn, with dark circles around my eyes, and it is guaranteed to make me feel worse if I see myself in the mirror looking like that. Of course, there's always the option to just avoid the mirror, but let's assume that we generally like mirrors.

Before surgery:
1. Shape your eyebrows and wax/thread/pluck any stray hairs
2. Get your eyelashes tinted: this is cheap and readily available at salons, and will mean that you don't need to wear mascara for up to six weeks. I have no arguments for the pedants who say that you don't need to wear mascara anyway. I like to have dark lashes, and drawing attention to my lashes and big green/blue eyes is better than drawing attention to the dark circles around my eyes!
3. Invest in a cream blush, or even better, a cream product for cheeks and lips: I love the Benefit Benetint lip and cheek balm and Bobbi Brown's Pot Rouge in Powder Pink. Give me 30 seconds with either of these, and I'll magically transform into a healthy-looking creature before your very eyes.
4. Get a really good brightening concealer for under-eye bags and any other dark shadows that may emerge post-surgery: My intention is not really to promote lots of beauty products, but I use Clinique's Airbrush Concealer. I've used it for many years, and love it. It is also very easy to apply. Even with one hand. Even if that hand is your non-dominant hand.
5. Stock up on moisturiser and lip balm: Hospitals are dry places, and my skin is dry and flaky for days or even weeks afterwards, so I use a much heavier moisturiser than usual.
6. Choose some low-profile jewellery to wear while you're recovering: You'll probably have to remove all your jewellery for the surgery (you may be allowed to tape over a wedding band) but you'll need something simple to wear afterwards, if only to maintain piercings (don't forget about belly buttons, tongues, lips, etc. and make sure you have someone ready to put them back in for you after surgery if you can't do it yourself). I usually wear plain pearl or diamond stud earrings, a simple, light necklace, and my wedding and engagement rings, but no other jewellery. It's enough to keep me looking polished, and to keep the holes in my earlobes open, and that's all I need.

After surgery:
Get a manicure and pedicure: Don't make the mistake of doing this prior to surgery, as you'll just have to take it off, which is a bit of a nightmare if you have a gel or shellac manicure. Once you're safely out of the hospital, book yourself in for a mani-pedi, preferably with gel or shellac polish, which lasts for a couple of weeks without chipping or flaking. I like to get a bright colour on my feet and a neutral colour on my hands - it does have to go with everything for two weeks, after all! If you're not well enough to go out for your manicure, you may be able to find a mobile technician who will come to your home, or even to the hospital.

After all this preparation, I'm sure you're just about ready to just get to the hospital so that you can have a break, but three last things:
1. Order some pretty seasonal flowers to be delivered a couple of days after you get home from hospital (unless you're likely to be inundated with floral gifts from friends), or buy yourself an orchid in bud, so that it'll flower when you get home and are there to see it.
2. Put fresh sheets on your bed ready for when you get back. If you're anything like me, this thought will sustain you through the hard first night in the hospital after surgery. I tell myself that I just have to get through this night (and maybe a couple of others) and then I can go home and snuggle into my lovely soft bed with the clean, fresh sheets, and that means that Everything Will Be Alright.

Sunday, 3 June 2012

Milestones

In some paediatric cancer units, the children are allowed to choose a bead for every medical intervention - each blood draw, chemotherapy dose, x-ray, etc. is recorded onto a long string of beads: their entire cancer journey mapped out in bright colours.

I often think about doing something similar - creating some outward recognition of the medical procedures that I've survived, but it's hard to know where to start. Lots of the things that have happened over the last few years are things that I barely want to remember, let alone celebrate. I don't have an illness with a finite treatment course, so I can't celebrate the end of treatment, clear scans or definitive surgery. The nature of my condition seems to be gradual decline, with various medical interventions along the way, as they become necessary. That's hardly something to be commemorated!

I have a Pandora bracelet with a single bead on it, named 'The Eye of the Storm'. It was given to me by a friend after I spent several days on a ventilator following a respiratory arrest. Of course it's a reminder of a scary time, but far more than that, it reminds me that I can seek refuge in my friends, even in the middle of huge medical 'storms', and that I don't have to find strength in myself alone.

This year, things have changed dramatically in my body. Losing the ability to eat normally has been devastating, and I suddenly have tubes and lines as a constant reminder of the support that my body now needs. I have a jejunostomy tube (a feeding tube into my small intestine) and a 2-3 inch surgical incision next to it. I have a Hickman line (an IV line that comes out of my chest and ends up next to my heart) for fluids, nutrition and medications. Sometime in the next few months, I expect to have a gastric neurostimulator (like a pacemaker for my stomach) fitted, which will be under the skin on my abdomen, meaning another surgical scar.

I think now is the time to add the next bead to my bracelet.


These new medical interventions have become my lifelines. Not tying me down (though I do have to be very careful when rolling over in bed while hooked up to three different pumps!), but freeing me - they give me the medications, the nutrition and the hydration that I need to function, and I feel so much better for it, despite resenting the intrusiveness of the tubes. I am grateful to have some colour in my cheeks (that I didn't have to paint on!), and am glad that my skin is starting to look smooth and bouncy, rather than reptilian and tissue-paper thin.


For the first time in a very long time, almost all my symptoms are controlled for at least part of the time - I am well-hydrated, am beginning to be well-nourished, and am absorbing the medications that I need. I'm not 'fixed' but I feel optimistic about good days ahead - days when I can go out, visit friends, entertain at home. There are so many exhibitions that I want to see (not least, Christian Louboutin at the Design Museum) and places that I want to visit. Even the thought of being well enough to get up and dressed and go out to read a book in the park fills me with glee!


This is what my second Pandora bead will represent - the freedom and opportunity that I gain from my new lifelines.

My lifelines - my hope for the future.

Sunday, 27 May 2012

Visible Reminders of Illness

Every so often the question arises about whether it's 'better' to have a visible illness or an invisible one.

Outward signs of illness can be really helpful to remind others of our limitations - my joints may be screaming in pain, I may be nauseous, dizzy and on the verge of fainting, but these things are all easily overlooked if people aren't suspicious and/or don't know me. Because I tend to smile a lot, even the doctors treating me can get quite a shock when my test results start to come back showing me as much sicker than they expected.

I don't like to tell people when I'm not feeling well. In fact, some of the time I don't even admit to myself that I'm not feeling well. Sometimes this backfires on me, meaning that I try to adjust and adjust and adjust my perception of 'my normal' until it's completely unavoidable.

Over the last couple of months I have spent more time in hospital than out of it. All of a sudden I have quite a lot of very visible signs that all is not right with my body. I have a permanent IV line sticking out of my chest, which is used to provide constant fluids, and through which I will shortly be receiving most of my nutrition. I'm waiting for a feeding tube into my small intestine, which will be used for small amounts of nutrition and some medications. My doctors have started to talk about the need to replace my manual wheelchair (which I only use part-time) with an electric wheelchair.

It would be very easy to think of this as reflecting a serious decline in my physical health. What I'm trying to do instead is be grateful that my body is now receiving the support it needs in order to function. I have been mostly housebound and constantly symptomatic for longer than I like to admit. I hope that these new interventions will improve my quality of life and allow me to get (and stay!) out of hospital.

Of course I'm still a bit scared of looking after the new tubes and handling new medications and processes. It will take time to adjust to the way my body now looks, and to having a constant companion in the form of a feeding pump to carry around with me. I still need to learn how to explain the changes to the people around me, and of course I'm still grieving for the loss of my ability to eat normally, and all the social changes that brings with it.

But essentially I'm still me! I might even be a more energetic and rosy-cheeked version of me once I get some decent nutrition. I'll certainly still be wearing lipstick, nail varnish and beautiful shoes. Most of all, though, I will be grateful for the continued opportunity to live this wonderful and precious life.

Wednesday, 2 November 2011

If Anyone Were Stupid Enough to Televise My Blog

It would be a cross between House MD and Martha Stewart. It would have to be shown weekly rather than daily, as I don't do much in an average day. Let me tell you a little more about my day-to-day life:

In addition to my GP, I see 14 different specialists at six different hospitals. I am currently procrastinating about adding a further seven specialists to my team.

I use 19 different medications daily.

It is rare for me to be able to leave the house more than once or twice a week. These trips are often based around medical appointments, though I do try to include fun things when I'm out, such as buying flowers, visiting the greengrocer, or stopping for coffee. If I'm really lucky, I might make it out to a craft shop, where I could happily spend an hour just looking at things, and stroking the various yarns.

What I can do varies daily, depending on the severity of my usual symptoms, and depending on which joint(s) are least stable/most painful.

I love to make things. It gives me a feeling of great satisfaction to have created something beautiful, whether it's food, a knitted item, or even just some labels for my kitchen. There are days when I feel that I am no use to anyone. Sometimes I can go for days without having a conversation with anyone except my husband. Creating things makes me feel as though I am contributing something, however small, to the world.

When I am not well enough to make things, I like to plan. OK, so I might not actually be able to redecorate the guest bedroom, or reorganise the study, but I can pick out colour suggestions, choose furniture and come up with some pretty neat storage solutions. Thankfully, I have a husband who is happy to help make my ideas reality!

When I am well, I am often able to potter around the house, doing little bits here and there. I like to stay on top of the housework (I'm lucky in that I have lots of help) and like to have systems for everything so that things can run perfectly well without me. This works well, and is necessary for the times that I'm in hospital (about two weeks out of every six). Having systems is not only invaluable at home, but is literally a lifesaver when I'm admitted to hospital in an emergency. I'm not always well enough to give doctors all the information that they need (including numerous severe allergies to foods and medication), so being able to hand over a folder that tells them everything they need to know is such a relief.

Not really TV material, but there you have it - maybe I'll introduce you to some of the systems that I use to make life easier for myself and for my husband as a consolation prize!

This post was written as part of NHBPM – 30 health posts in 30 days: http://bit.ly/vU0g9J