Ode to Extubation, Breathing and Moving: A patients perspective pt2

Why do you talk about me like I’m not here,

At the end of my bed you stand and stare,

I hear you talking about my care,

I’m not tolerating the reduced air.

Then the words that I fear, 

One last chance before a Tracheotomy,

But now I'm less sedated don’t ever underestimate me,

You don’t understand my strength of will,

You turn down my air and I force my lungs to work,

It is hard work to keep on breathing even with the aid of a ventilator,

Soon the decision for extubation,

This is cause for celebration.

Tube out my throat the start of healing,

Oh what a wonderful feeling,

Wait a minute why do I have to think to breath,

Why is it not so easy,

All my energy put into breathing,

The slightest movement is fatiguing.

I remember not thinking about breathing,

Not having to force air into my chest,

Why can’t I return to normal,

Why is everything I do a problem,

Barely able to move myself,

Unable to wash myself.

But I am a force of nature,

After a few days I forgot about breathing,

But my lungs remembered,

My next stage was to get to walking.

The physio-terrorists come in to see me,

Get to sit on the edge of the bed,

After 5 minutes I’m nearly dead,

After a few days I get aided into the shower,

Cleaning yourself even if aided has a special power.

Next comes walking as I regain my voice,

The Taurus my friend and enemy,

First day they want me to use the frame to pivot to the seat beside my bed,

I go for a walk to the ward room door instead,

Exclamations come out in surprise,

I’d lost a lot of weight and I was frail,

But never underestimate my power of will.

Each day I walk a little more,

Nurses watching as I grow stronger every day,

Starting to walk twice, thrice a day,

Leaving HDU I had no central lines, no ventilation or ng feeding,

I was not back to normal but the first time in months I look like a human.

Ode to ICU: A patients perspective pt1

My eyes open is my torment over,

Have I return to my life once more,

Why can’t I speak? Where is my voice,

Why is there a tube in my throat? Where has my strength gone.

What is this place I find myself,

Who are these people staring at me,

Nurses, Doctors and Family,

Oh thank god my nightmare is over.

“You're in ICU” is all that I parse,

I look and see faces I vaguely recognise,

Part dream, part reality. Unsure what is true,

Is this a delusion, confusion or the truth.

It is hard to tell what is real when your brain has been misleading you,

When you have to question all that is said to you,

Family tell you it’s ok,

Doctors tell you your on your way,

That it’s remarkable that you have recovered.

In this room where I lay so much action every day,

Bells, bleeps, people coming and going,

My family looking worried.

The tube in my throat very uncomfortable,

Pulling at my lips, but I am aware why it is there,

Raising my hand to get suction because I feel like I am drowning,

The nurse frowning saying that not much came up,

But doing it again when I insist this time moving the weight in my chest,

The relief you will never know, that moment of compassion you have shown.