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@cliveo
I am thinking of starting a blog for my left buttock.
When I left hospital a week ago, I was given a spare wound drainage bag but told to report to outpatients on Monday for a dressing change. I reported as commanded to be told that I was ouzing too much and that my dressing could not be changed and that they, the outpatient department did not do wound drainage sacks. I was told to arrange to see the consultant once the ouzing had subsided for a couple of days or if it did not subside by the weekend.
By Wednesday, my drainage bag needed changing and so, with the help of MrsO, I changed it. Neither of us having any experience in the art of changing wound drainage bags we managed a decent job but not a perfect job. There was a little leakage.
On Thursday, I called to make an appointment with the consultant to be told that the first appointment I could have is next Tuesday evening. I wnet to the big Boots at Liverpool Street to try and get a new supply of drainage bags. They had not heard of them. I could not show them what one was because it is a busy shop and my bag is on my buttock. This morning my need for a new bag was urgent. I called the hospital who suggested that I go to John Bell and Croyden on Wigmore Street. I did. They did not know what I was talking about but suggested somewhere to buy a colostomy bag. I tried other pharmacies around Wigmore/Wimpole Streets and then the pharmacy at the London Clinic. No joy. I called the hospital again and headed back there in a cab. They said that the person who could help me was away but would be back in 20 minutes. I waited 40 minutes. I was becoming nervous about an important meeting that I had to attend. I went back to the nurses station and asked if I could please have some bags. They didn't know what type of bag I needed. I pulled down my trousers, there and then and showed them. Horror on faces, Five replacement bags suddenly arrived.
I went off to my meeting and then back to the office. My buttock was very swollen and dripping. I decided to go home to change the bag. Good decision. I was alone in the house. I went to the bathroom. Pulled off the old bag and started cleaning off bits of glue from that bag. Suddenly my buttock exploded again. No more swelling. Golden lymph fluid shooting all over the walls and floor in a thick stream. At that moment I heard the front door open. I called down and MrsO (bless her) came upstairs with some kitchen towel and cleaned up while I replaced the bag.
Almost 10 months since the crash.
Three weeks since the operation.
Two weeks since the infection.
A week since I got out of hospital.
And still it flows.
I wish I could be writing amusing tales of cycling exploits.