INHALE/EXHALE

Chapter 8-Aftermath

That's a lie. I really didn't manage to sleep straight away. My subconscious is keeping me awake, influencing me to feel alone, scared and anxious. I'm scared because I just cannot decline the thoughts in my head telling me that it might happen again. My lung collapsing, the not breathing, the chest tubes, the operations. JUST STOP! Please stop!

Three days later...

It's three days later and I have an appointment with the nurse for my wounds to be checked. We have to leave at least 15-20 minutes in advance to make sure I'm on time, as me and my lungs are still highly fragile. Just as I thought of the long, hard walk I'd have to do later, my lovely grandmother rings me with the greatest news ever! I can have her spare wheelchair for a few weeks whilst I'm recovering, sounds like I'm going to be having a lot of fun. My neighbour who is also a very good friend of ours, she goes to pick the wheelchair up for me in her car. When she returns with it, its nearly time to leave for my appointment, so I hop in my ride. I'm now re-thinking this whole idea of my mum pushing me in the wheelchair

We arrive and log in to show the nurse that we are here. Sat perched on the bed and I'm looking at this nurse, never seen her before, she's elderly and quite slow if I'm honest with you. As she is inspecting my wounds I tell her to be gentle, then she begins to touch it, pressing hard. It's making me feel light-headed and faint so I tell her to stop and ask for a glass of water. She returns with a small cup of water, informing us that everything looks fine, saying that I will need to come back for them to be cleaned out and new dressings to be put on in a few days. As we slowly walk out, I say to mum that I don't want to see her again, so when booking the next appointment we ask to see someone else.

When we get home, I say to mum that I want to have a shower whilst dinner is cooking. She hasn't seen me naked since what has happened, knowing that I have lost quite a lot of weight I gradually take off my pyjama top and leggings as she is turning on the shower. She helps me to the shower seat and I can feel her eyes looking at my lost body, ribs and spine as carved out as an under-fed animal. I can see in her eyes that she wants to cry in my arms but again, she acts brave for me so I don't get upset. The wounds are on my right side, a big one underneath my armpit, one just below and another on my back and it does look like I've been stabbed well a few times to be exact. Mum has come up with a hilarious idea though, because I cannot get the padding and wounds wet yet, she gives me a plastic carrier bag to hook over my arm and tape to secure it. Funnily enough it kept everything dry and I was laughing because it looked like i was going shopping, not naked obviously haha.

Wrapping up in a towel, hair dripping down my spine, wet footprints on the tiled floor. I walk up the stairs to my room. Sat on my bed, exhausted and tired, mum follows and grabs a hairbrush. The smell of hot, steamy roast potatoes and slow roasted beef is drifting upstairs through the crack of my bedroom door. After brushing my hair, blow-drying it and getting into some fluffy pyjamas, my sister grabs my quilt for me to lay back on the sofa and wait for this delicious dinner to head my way. I put Netflix on and I'm flicking through these hundreds of movies, unsure what to put on. My dinners being brought into the living room, the steam is making my mouth water, unlike the nasty hospital food Iv been eating for the past three weeks.

Another sleepless night of uncomfortableness. Another morning of waking up with the sunrise. Another day of swallowing tablets. No change yet! Another visit to see the nurse about my stitches and it's time to get them removed. I'm petrified right now. Looking up to the ceiling as the nurse is reaching for the scissors, this is something I would never think to watch. Ever! Blood, wounds, needles, stitches all of those things and anything relatable makes my stomach turn.

When I got home and showered, I just stood in the mirror, staring at this reflection. I haven't looked at myself properly since any of this has happened, I mean yes iv looked in the mirror a few times but that was when I brushed my teeth or washed my face, I never looked at my body. This was only because I knew the weight iv lost and how ill I appeared, I just couldn't bring myself to look as I knew I would get upset and begin to hate myself. I take a deep breathe in and dropped my towel. Inspecting each part of my body, I feel to break down and cry but mum would see that I've been crying and I don't really want to talk about it. So I'm there still standing in the mirror, putting my towel back around me and I take off my patch that's covering my scars, mum needs to change it so I'll call her up in a second once I've taken it off. I still haven't seen the wounds, mum does it all and I know its because she doesn't want me to look at them. As I turn to look in the mirror, just one glance and I collapse to the floor in tears. What am I suppose to do? I feel like a monster, who's going to love me now? How am I going to hide these nasty scars on my body?