Recover old blog
24 November 2006 / December 1, 2006
Two old post at once.
are the before and after my personal experience: I underwent an operation in which a public health facility ... the south (Reggio Calabria precisely).
11/24/2006 that there is enough 'health
In a few hours I put 'my first (and hopefully last one and only) surgery. In reality 'is something quite trivial (dab of ritual): The removal of the meniscus on strike now because of too many injuries incurred. No comments on the national health system, or the discomfort of residents on hunger in the world: none of this (I realize that no place ever fun stuff!) So, while waiting to put his hand to the PC for a new post I would like to close with a series of quotations that represent a good sample of the phrases that sooner or later we all were told by family members or friends in relation to health and wellness. recommendation of my mother when I go (or rather, I would go) to make sport
Do not kill! recommendation of my girlfriend before football games
not hurt you!
recommendation of my father at any time
Look at your health!
recommendation of my aunt when I know the road
Get the plane? And if he falls!?!
Finally, a maximum life of my friend Peter (aka eddy22) which deals with security in life (EDP) and who, like me, has a strong sensitivity 'to the problems of disaster recovery: Massimo he recalls. In life there are two important things: backups and health!
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01/12/2006 Riecchime
I'm back safe and sound after an intervention that in civilized countries and 'trivial but turns into a Reggio Calabria something serious. I can not tell.
The day begins at 7:45 when I introduce myself as agreed and after the visits, to be hospitalized.
be brought in the ward with three other unfortunates: a warm greeting, if you ever read this page, Sergio, Biagio e Francesco.
Vengo fatto spogliare e mi viene dato un camice monouso verde ma trasparente con il quale appaio come un macellaio pazzo e sono praticamente nudo e infreddolito.
Puntura e attesa di essere portati in sala operatoria. Sono le 8:15. Sono le 9:00. Sono le 10:30. Sono le 11:45. [Io nel frattempo convivo con il mio camice ] Sono le 12:30 Sono le 13:00 Sono le 14:00 Arriva il portantino: "Malara"! "Eccolo" - dice tremante (per il freddo e la fame) la voce di cio' che rimane di un ragazzo al quale un camice-grembiulino verde ha tolto la poca dignita' che gli restava nella vita: era la mia voce.
Salgo sulla barella: madre, padre, fidanzata con facce ... :( ... , luci al neon che sfilano, qualche battuta with the ambulance man to calm the situation, the elevator to the operating room.
In the operating room you will find a picturesque, worthy of the best local market. In this apparent chaos (I am convinced that should otherwise be apparent, I think, "I'm fucked!") I find nurses and doctors more 'or less interested in being in the stretcher with the pajamas green card and a leg shaved (yuck) I have become.
a young doctor comes up to me and makes me ', "you play basketball?". And I said, "once". He said, 'I remember you ... Sometimes we played! " "Occazzo" thinks that being semidepilato and now also wearing a nice cap of the same material as the gown that someone has made up his mind going. Anaesthetist
approaching ... "How much do you weigh?" he says. I respond with fear: "108". The anesthesiologist instructs ifermiere, in the meantime I intubated the vein with a substantial infusion, "then let them ... and also that this" passing siringone with a liquid in a dark matte colors. I see the syringe plunger to fall, I feel the mist head, numbness spread, close my eyes, dark.
USignuriMiMiJuta! ...
... I open my eyes, but not for long. I'm still on the stretcher (against traffic than before). The faces of the relatives. Someone tells me something (perhaps the stretcher). I answer with a curse that I can not remember. I'm in the bed of the lane. My companions in misfortune is the sincerity of my condition. He held up a thumb as the best riders finished off the street but safe. I sleep.
I still wear that shirt. The infusion. The raised leg. I sleep. 17:00 am to sleep a little bit 'of sleep did not tired, but of an endless idleness. I wake up for a while '. I speak with my family, with my girlfriend, with a relative, with the unfortunate like me who have recovered and meanwhile try to get up and go to the bathroom. I try too, but I realize that anesthesia is still circulating in my blood. Nothing to do. I have to put spread. I sleep. Cold sweat and sleep.
E 'so' all night, all night.
5:30 am the next morning: tablet, injection, breakfast. To get up yet and 'thing turns my head, I can not. I'm beginning to realize, supported by my friends who now are running around the room on crutches and the walker, the dose of anesthesia somministratami was what, in medical jargon, are called "horse." I drink a lot, I do another drip. I can get up. These are 11:00. Arrival in the bathroom and I glad to have made it predisposes the coveted place ... I feel a small tear in the knee, the warmth of a gush of blood. I feel your foot wet. I look down ': a pool of blood and' the end of the stream leaving the gauze that covers me, the knee, through the shield and drips on the floor. I go back to bed, I call a ifermiere. His face is tense but reassures me: "better so ', better be out. "
" Really cool! "I think. I feel better now: anesthesia has finished (maybe) to run into the bloodstream, it can no longer' charge my innate drug-stoned me injected. What I learned from this experience: The U pidhjulu goods, ch 'u sulu mali shore! " not translate it because it' s too good to translate it ... ah, what I like those popular in Calabria!
I'm back safe and sound after an intervention that in civilized countries and 'trivial but turns into a Reggio Calabria something serious. I can not tell. The day begins at 7:45 when I introduce myself as agreed and after the visits, to be hospitalized.
be brought in the ward with three other unfortunates: a warm greeting, if you ever read this page, Sergio, Biagio e Francesco.
Vengo fatto spogliare e mi viene dato un camice monouso verde ma trasparente con il quale appaio come un macellaio pazzo e sono praticamente nudo e infreddolito.
Puntura e attesa di essere portati in sala operatoria. Sono le 8:15. Sono le 9:00. Sono le 10:30. Sono le 11:45. [Io nel frattempo convivo con il mio camice ] Sono le 12:30 Sono le 13:00 Sono le 14:00 Arriva il portantino: "Malara"! "Eccolo" - dice tremante (per il freddo e la fame) la voce di cio' che rimane di un ragazzo al quale un camice-grembiulino verde ha tolto la poca dignita' che gli restava nella vita: era la mia voce.
Salgo sulla barella: madre, padre, fidanzata con facce ... :( ... , luci al neon che sfilano, qualche battuta with the ambulance man to calm the situation, the elevator to the operating room.
In the operating room you will find a picturesque, worthy of the best local market. In this apparent chaos (I am convinced that should otherwise be apparent, I think, "I'm fucked!") I find nurses and doctors more 'or less interested in being in the stretcher with the pajamas green card and a leg shaved (yuck) I have become.
a young doctor comes up to me and makes me ', "you play basketball?". And I said, "once". He said, 'I remember you ... Sometimes we played! " "Occazzo" thinks that being semidepilato and now also wearing a nice cap of the same material as the gown that someone has made up his mind going. Anaesthetist
approaching ... "How much do you weigh?" he says. I respond with fear: "108". The anesthesiologist instructs ifermiere, in the meantime I intubated the vein with a substantial infusion, "then let them ... and also that this" passing siringone with a liquid in a dark matte colors. I see the syringe plunger to fall, I feel the mist head, numbness spread, close my eyes, dark.
USignuriMiMiJuta! ...
... I open my eyes, but not for long. I'm still on the stretcher (against traffic than before). The faces of the relatives. Someone tells me something (perhaps the stretcher). I answer with a curse that I can not remember. I'm in the bed of the lane. My companions in misfortune is the sincerity of my condition. He held up a thumb as the best riders finished off the street but safe. I sleep.
I still wear that shirt. The infusion. The raised leg. I sleep. 17:00 am to sleep a little bit 'of sleep did not tired, but of an endless idleness. I wake up for a while '. I speak with my family, with my girlfriend, with a relative, with the unfortunate like me who have recovered and meanwhile try to get up and go to the bathroom. I try too, but I realize that anesthesia is still circulating in my blood. Nothing to do. I have to put spread. I sleep. Cold sweat and sleep.
E 'so' all night, all night.
5:30 am the next morning: tablet, injection, breakfast. To get up yet and 'thing turns my head, I can not. I'm beginning to realize, supported by my friends who now are running around the room on crutches and the walker, the dose of anesthesia somministratami was what, in medical jargon, are called "horse." I drink a lot, I do another drip. I can get up. These are 11:00. Arrival in the bathroom and I glad to have made it predisposes the coveted place ... I feel a small tear in the knee, the warmth of a gush of blood. I feel your foot wet. I look down ': a pool of blood and' the end of the stream leaving the gauze that covers me, the knee, through the shield and drips on the floor. I go back to bed, I call a ifermiere. His face is tense but reassures me: "better so ', better be out. "
" Really cool! "I think. I feel better now: anesthesia has finished (maybe) to run into the bloodstream, it can no longer' charge my innate drug-stoned me injected. What I learned from this experience: The
- football reaps more 'victims of the war in Iraq;
- orthopedic departments of institutions are full of young men and old women (of course: women who play soccer are few!)
- Architectural barriers for the disabled are many: we do not see them but they are there.
