My last solid meal before surgery was Monday evening. Homemade hot dogs with a hint of garlic lovingly stuffed by our friend Leslie and washed down with beer. God bless America. A long two days later, I’m hungry and sucking on all of the ice chips I can get. The path back to those hot dogs is roughly as follows:
- Ice/water until I start belching
- Clear liquids until I start farting
- Solid foods
- In the hospital until I start pooping
This is all about getting my system up and running again, which for the most part is out of my hands. Had I spent my formative years at mediation, circular breathing, and yoga, I might have some deeper level of body control. I didn’t and don’t, but I can control the amount of fentanyl I get through the magical button controller dangling beside my bed. Green light means go and a friendly tune plays. Who says video games don’t teach us anything?
This is the balancing act though. Fentanyl dripping into my IV line numbs the pain, but also slows down my system. The slower my system, the longer it’ll take to move to real food. On the first day, the pain won and I was hitting the button pretty hard. I also got it in my head that I was going to do a walk around the hospital floor, which I did with the vengeance of an early morning mall walker. It was good, but left me weak, belching, and nauseous. Belching!
- Ice/water until I start belching
- Clear liquids until I start farting
- Solid foods
- In the hospital until I start pooping
Bring on the brownish liquids of the sugarly and salty varieties!