I have struggled with a lack of willingness to write this entry. After feeling so amp’d up for the man in part 1 of the entry I wrote, I near fell flat on my face with disgust during the conclusion of this man’s bariatric surgery journey and as a result, I lost my respect for the man.
His surgery was successful, however his recovery proved extremely challenging for both his health care professionals as well as him and his sister. Once he was back in his specially modified hospital room and more lucid, he expressed disappointment that he still looked the same.
I no longer remember the correct sequence of events however he self discharged at least twice. The first time he self discharged was only 3 days after bariatric surgery. And as they do, his medical team strongly advised against him self discharging blah blah blah yawn. He had a huge wake up call however when he got home and the ambulance people began to transfer him from the gurney to his bed. There was no hoist, there was no air mattress. There was no high octane pain relief. He absolutely screamed and screamed and screamed.
A while later he began to doubt he’d made the right decision for himself in leaving the hospital. The medical team let him know that their doors would remain open for him to return if he felt he needed to. His false pride didn’t allow for him to humble himself and reach out for the help and support he needed post major surgery.
Fast forward another day or so and it was his sister who called for an ambulance. He was actually placed in ICU as his kidneys had failed. Back out into either another ward or his original modified room he decided to again self discharge. And this was around the time my sense of respect for the man drained away from me. His anxiety was through the roof at having learned that he had almost died due to renal failure and he was blathering away about utter bullshit, attempting to convince the film crew and his doctors that he knew what was best for him.
Home again – and he’s spouting on and on and on like a scratch in a CD to his sister who looks like she’s been in ICU for months. It was such a sad, sad situation. I got that he got a fright. I could not respect his decision to have self discharged again. And on his return to hospital, this time he had Pneumonia and almost died. His Mother had died from Pneumonia. His sister was in such distress and I often felt annoyed that while the programme was written to be geared up about this man, there was no support shown or given or even offered to her throughout the documentary. She was house-bound and this was referenced to many times. I felt she was isolated and emotionally abandoned by the documentary crew.
Mind you, they may have offered her support throughout the process and she refused it. To my sensibilities, and had those offers of support been on film, whether she had refused them or accepted some support the film crew would have created an atmosphere of inclusiveness rather than one of isolation.
That’s what I thought.
I do not remember how the documentary ended, and I do not care to google him to find out whether he pulled through Pneumonia or not. I feel my stance and attitude is harsh. I have made attempts to soften up on the man. The best I have been able to achieve is to simply bid him well on his journey with love and light and then detach myself with love and light.
What has proven difficult in the detachment is that I feel rage and resentment that he was given a HUGE opportunity to better his life and he pretty much gave the many people involved in his care, the finger. I am outraged. I am jealous he was given the best of the best the UK had to offer in terms of surgeons and after care and he flipped them all the bird.