Hospital day 2

Rest is something you don't get much in a hospital anyway. Because when I finally fell asleep around 4am, it wasn't for long. At 6pm at that Wednesday August the 31st, the first nurse shift came by to administer me my daily medicine. An hour later the breakfast crew came by. I sometimes hear people complain about hospital food, but the food here was (or at least looked) incredible. They rolled in an entire buffet you could choose from. I tried a delicious looking piece of bread and a boiled egg. Of course I had forgotten about my disability to eat and taste.

I got SO incredibly frustrated and only took one bite. This is the first time I noticed what being under observation meant, because as soon as the clean up crew noticed my unfinished food, the next person I saw was a dietitian. Which turned out well for me, because she ordered special bottles of calorie rich fluid that were very sweet. Since extreme sweetness was the only thing I could taste, and fluid was about the only thing I could handle, this was very welcome.

The p&n was now halfway up my legs and arms. My face had no expression anymore. I couldn't close my eyes completely. I could open my mouth and somewhat talk, but that was it. I had to use a walker or a wheelchair to get to the toilet, where the next drama would start (more about that soon). I couldn't control my swallowing anymore. I was warned about that, because it's a common GBS symptom. And surely right away I was choking on my fluid. I recovered quickly, but it can cause pneumonia, which can have devastating results in combination with GBS (if I had GBS, which was still to be determined.)

Right after my fluid breakfast someone came by to take another couple of vials of my blood (one day apparently doesn't make a difference, but two do?) Around 10am a nurse came by with a wheelchair to bring me to the imaging area of the hospital for an MRI scan of my head. The guy who was going to scan my head was a very cheerful, tall guy. He tried to have a conversation with me, but it turned out quite one-sided since I couldn't talk much. I do remember he had to help me on the bed that eventually goes in to the scanner. When he had to do that he said: "You're younger than me!". I still don't know what he meant by that.... I wasn't there for fun.