Having come round a bit, I can now realise which of the side effects apply to me.
The mental ones are very apparent to me, tho constipation is high up there.
They’ve fed me laxatives almost non stop over the last 10 days, though nothing significant had happened.
Well not until earlier today, when 2 lady physio’s got me into an upright position in the bed, and proposed they help me into my wheelchair for a bit.
That movement proved fairly cataclysmic.
I now realise that, after morphine, I become completely paranoid, suspicious of everybody, misinterpret everything that most people say and do ( including what they don’t do, but I think they should be doing )
3 years ago in Toulon, I still remember ever so clearly that the small cupboard, in the corner of my Intensive Care room, was alive and wanted to kill me.
I knew of course that that was impossible, yet remained convinced that it was going to happen.
Not being able to speak, I had to somehow communicate that the cupboard was possessed by the devil and needed to be removed from the room.
You can imagine how successful I was in getting that across to the French speaking medics…
I’ve had to check the texts I’ve sent to make sure they’re not too weird, and a few may have been.
If you had one, then please be understanding.
As I have another operation in a week, then I’m minded to not have my phone for a day, except if deprived of it I’ll no doubt object unpleasantly.
So we’ll see what happens…
The total mindf*** is yet another complication, or consequence, of my bike crash.
Bad day all round, that one.