Drain You

“So there’s just a little bit too much liquid in the bottle for us to take the drain out,” the plastic surgery nurse says. “If it was under fifty, that would be fine, we’d take it out, but it’s eighty. You can still go home today but let’s keep the drain in.”
“Mum won’t want me home with the drain in,” I say. “And my cat will chase the tube and…”
“You don’t need to be scared of it,” she says. “Just put it in a bag and make sure you lift it up and take it with you when you need to go to the loo, don’t forget you’re attached to it. It’s better for you to go home. Are you going back to your parents’ house?”
“Yes,” I say. “The thing is – Mum’s just had three operations this week, so Dad will be looking after both of us.”
“Just rest today,” she says. “And tomorrow morning I want you to call and tell me how much fluid is in the bottle, and if it’s not more than an extra fifty you can come in and I’ll take the drain out.”
“OK,” I say. Obviously I’m meant to jump at the chance to be released from hospital but in fact here I have everything I need: a TV, books, a bell to call for a nurse, a bell to call the pantry. Scraping my hand through my hair, suddenly there’s a sharp pain and blood everywhere: all over my hand and arm and puddling on the bedclothes.
“Oh – you poor thing, let me clear that up for you,” she says. The cannula has come out of my hand.
“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” I say, watching the bright scarlet blood dripping over the table. It doesn’t stop.
“Don’t worry: it was going to come out soon anyway,” she says, wiping my hand clean and pressing a plaster over the wound but its edges curl up – it’s all too wet there.
“Is it time for another tramadol?” I say, as she presses a new dressing on my hand. Everything is hurting: the skin on my chest where it is stretching; my side where the drain is sewn in; my right arm where I’ve lost all the nodes.
“Not yet,” she says…

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Drain You

  1. So sorry you couldn’t have it done yesterday. Frustration! I can’t open your last two blogs further than the first few lines. ‘Read more of this post’ in this and the previous one, doesn’t allow me to. I think you are just such a natural writer. Love Simone xxxxx

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s