Honestly, I’m not sure who was more traumatized from the pulling of my drain tube. You remember… that orange tube that ran across the INSIDE of my head, laying on my brain and letting some fluid come out. Yep, that tube… here’s a photo for you too.
My drainage was going good – I don’t get how stuff coming out of my head was good, but they said it was. Then it just stopped working. People kept coming in and touching the other tubes that touched my tube and moving some things up and down but it wouldn’t start working again. The tube stopped itself ahead of schedule. So… they decided to just take it out.
Now, the trauma.
It was supposed to be painful. It was supposed to be pulled in the afternoon. I had already threw up from morphine when they had to put the extra stitch in a few days earlier. That wasn’t going to happen again. Their plan was to fill me with some other medicine and goop some white Elmer’s Glue stuff on my head that they swore would make it feel better.
4 hours later, the doctor still didn’t show, so they gooped me again.
2 hours later, I wanted to go to bed. I was SO tired but Mom kept me up. The nurses kept promising Mom that the doctor was coming… eventually… to take out my tube. I stayed up for her because I REALLY wanted it out of my head. It kept getting caught on things and I couldn’t sleep on it, and well… THERE WAS A TUBE STICKING OUT OF MY HEAD.
The doctor finally came. They took me to another part of our floor – a part I hadn’t been to before into a darker room; it was really scary. I started getting super nervous. I felt tugging on my head as Mom’s face was in mine telling me it would all be okay and over with soon, and that I was doing a good job. The tugging didn’t hurt much. It was just tugging; it felt kinda funky. The doctor showed me the orange tube when it was out. You wouldn’t believe how much was inside. SO weird!
Then the other part. It HURT! It hurt so much! I was screaming and fighting. Mom was holding me face, another doctor my head and the nurse was doing… something. And the swordsman or pain-maker doc stopped hurting me and said, “All done.”
I started to relax. Mom relaxed away.
And then the tie-off.
The doctor WASN’T done. He hadn’t yet tied the knot for the closing stitches.
Then today, Mom, Dad and Ms. Shane discovered I had a stitch left in my head. They were supposed to go away on their own, but this one didn’t. This is Ms. Shane cutting my hair before:
Tonight, Mom told me she was going to mess around with my head. She cut the stitch (I heard her tell Dad) and then stepped away. She looked really nervous. I think that’s where she was traumatized again. She probably thought I would start screaming like I did that night and that it would hurt SO much for her to take it out.
She took a breath and I trusted her and held still.
A quick pull. “Ouch!” I said pulling away.
She looked again. She pulled from the other side. “Ouch!” I said again, pulling away again. And when I pulled away, the stitch came out! See! Here it is!
Mom and Dad finally figured out that it was the stitch that closed up the leak from the tube because all the other stitches were supposed to go away on their own, but this one wasn’t one of those. Huh!
I think it’s kinda cool that they pulled the last stitch from my brain surgery! Don’tcha think?