Why me?

“Why me?”

Yes, many things in our lives do make us ask God this question.  But being one of the three out of a hundred people who will get surgical site infection (SSI) got me searching for deeper answers.  Where could those bacteria have been lurking and then struck after nearly two months of healing? Being scrupulously careful with wound hygiene, it just seemed impossible that we had done something wrong.  Who or what was to blame?  It would have been easy to make a case for complaint.  But the mystery of life is that too many things happen randomly without easy explanations.  How could a healthy kiasu patient like me have succumbed?  Yet it did happen despite care and caution.  Just shows that healing is not something doctors have that much control over as we would like to believe.  Somehow I can’t even be bothered to rant and rave.  I can accept that even with a benevolent God, there will be things that can go wrong in my life.  I may not even understand why they happen, as has been the case for many things past, but I can still be at peace taking the bad, together with the many good things that life has proffered. 

8 April: Infection and 2nd op

While on the road to NNI for my 8 am MRI appointment, I felt some wetness on the wound.  Dabbed it with a tissue and it was yellowish.  Sent Dr N a picture of the tissue and in just 10 minutes he confirmed that infection was probable and that meant I had to be admitted immediately for another op.  

I went for the MRI as scheduled.  Even though the hour-long wait was less agonising this second time round (especially since I have memorised Psalm 23 down pat by now), the injection of the contrast dye was more painful.  Then it was off to call on Dr A again for the results.  He confirmed that the scan showed an infection at the wound site but that the brain was clean.  Dr N had also been in contact with him with instructions for my readmission.  Sent to Room 16 again to settle the costing.  The estimate was $10K for a 3-day stay.  While waiting there for a bed, Dr N came around 11 am after his op duties to see me.  He examined the wound and then explained the details of the wound cleaning and removal of the original bone flap. 

Checked into the room at Ward 13B at around 1 pm.  A group of 3 doctors including one who was present at my first op came by to take a sample of the pus.  The one doing it really did a mean job squeezing and pressing my head.  Ouch!  What was worse was when one of them came by to insert a needle into a vein near my wrist.  He really botched it, spilling much blood and not succeeding after numerous tries.  Double ouch!  It irked me so much I fell back in a faint.  The nurse who came by later managed to do it effortlessly.

6-7 April: Suspicious swelling

It was past midnight on a Sunday when there was a worrying swelling on the wound, together with what looked like pus buildup.  Gosh, how can there be infection after nearly 2 months of healing progress?  Feelings of dread washed over me.  Emailed some pictures to the doctor despite feeling bad that I was disturbing him at such a late hour.  He replied 5 minutes later (bless his heart!) and though the picture wasn't clear, he wanted me to get checked in the morning.   He would arrange for somebody else to see me as he was operating,.  That gave a smidgen of comfort. 

Reported at 9.30 am the next morning but had to wait a while before getting seen by Dr A, a rather young doctor.  He didn't think it was serious but scheduled me for an MRI the next morning at 8 am, to be on the safe side.  It would cost a whopping $1,200!

Doctor just a click away

What a privilege it has been to have my very own doctor just a click away.  I was so surprised that his email reply came so quickly the first time.  Now, I know for sure that he will bother to reply to every one of my concerns, big or small, like his life depended on it.  He was patient in explaining things and genuinely caring despite the minutest of anxieties that beset me during this vulnerable time.  And he did all this even at 2 am.  Neurosurgeons must be needing less sleep than other humans!  Though he must be a very busy person being as important as he is in his department, Dr N took pains to attend to me over virtual space when there were no extra rewards to be gained in terms of fame or fortune.  Quite a few times, it has led to follow up visits to the clinic.  It would not have been remiss of him to ignore such extraneous demands on his time and attention, yet it seems like his duty to do so. 

My smartphone has been a real boon through this communication channel.  I have sent over pictures of the surgical wound and other dramatic developments for his assessment.  His immediate responses have helped avert many a problem, especially when the wound suddenly developed an infection after 2 months of healing.  During this crisis, his concern was palpable as he frequently emailed to check on me.  

Pity him if he has more patients like me jamming his inbox!   

The blessing of family and friends

Throughout this period, there has never been a moment for me to feel lonely in my pain or recuperation.  My family's love and attention have been overflowing, especially from L.  They took turns to be with me for every visit to NNI to ensure that I was safe and supported.  While I was at TTSH, they came every day (and more than once a day for L).  Just being with me helped me feel so cherished as wife and mum. 

The same is true of my friends.  Even though we had indicated that I would rather not have visitors during my hospitalisation, many still came as they were above 'visitor' status (like my brother, Julie and David, Ah Pheng, and Yiling) or considered themselves so (like Daniel Tan, Norman, Liz and Ai Choo, Alan and Stacey, and Tim and Patsy). 

The rest of the ex-Glasgow gang also rallied around after I returned home:  Beng Hong and Ros, and James, Monica and Connie.  The home-brewed ginseng chicken from Monica was a real treat.  Liz and Ai Choo dropped in for a repeat visit too.  My colleagues William and Shakila came separately.  I was quite touched when my ex-ETD colleagues Nat, Lynde and Mano took the trouble to see me.  So too Janet Ling, Elaine, and Alan Goei together with Wen and Jennifer.

Sis-in-law Ah Tai also came by many times with nutritious snakehead fish and double-boiled chicken soups.  I received so much chicken essence that I could set up shop.  Fruit and floral gifts were also sent by  TPMC, PLMC, PLMGS, ELIS, and Kheng Hock and Irene.  What was most precious were the many prayers from the many PLMC members like those from our cell, and Alice and Wendy. 

12-16 Feb: Ward stay

One thing that impressed me was how much nicer the nurses and amahs were.  The nurses from the Philippines stood out.  Most of them were genuinely attentive and eager to please.  There was a world of  difference in service standards compared to the last time I was hospitalised in 1987, 17 years ago.  My own surgeon, Dr N turned up nearly every morning including Sunday, to check on me.  What a real gem this dedicated doctor was in his kind and reassuring ways.

What wasn't nice was the nausea and my pounding head.  All the nice meals were wasted as my appetite had left me.  The only things that went down well were warm sugarless Milo and cool barley drinks.  Sleep was fitful as the nurses had to check on my vitals every hour or so.  Not being able to rest on the right side of my head didn't help too.  I stayed an extra day and only left the hospital on Sunday 16 Feb, after a total of 6 days. 

11 Feb: A day at the ICU

After being wheeled to the ICU a doctor came by to ask weird questions.  Asked where I thought I was, I uttered unhesitantly, "SGH".  Now why did I say such a ridiculous thing?  Next question:  What time was it?  Now, how would I know, right?  But then she directed me to the clock that was hanging on the left wall.  Must be an amusing game for these doctors hearing the nonsensical things from patients fresh from their GA stupor.

The most memorable thing about this small space was being very 'connected'.  Tubes and wires were all over me to pump in glucose and medication, measure my heart and blood pressure and drain my urine.  Tight support leggings were also yanked up my legs for circulation.  Really felt like being trapped in a straightjacket as panic screamed voicelessly deep within me. 

The family came.  Was pleasantly surprised to have Daphne drop by too.  I spent one night there and by Wednesday, the next afternoon, I was liberated and sent to the normal ward at 13B, Room 20.