This article is part of a series of contributions.
I have been seriously thinking about many things in the last few days. I mean specifically on the subject of the tracheostomy tube.
I'm thinking about something all the time. If I do nothing, something burns out in me. I can do super "nothing" in the sense of consciously listening to music, consciously dozing or sleeping. Of course, this works best after I've smoked something. But even when I do that, I find myself drifting off and thinking about melting poles and the carbon footprint of industrial animal husbandry, or preparing legal cases from the office. During my daily basic care, I listen to music and the news, deal with my colleagues' enquiries, take care of any medication and aid orders, and meanwhile I continue writing my book.
The main thing is to keep moving. The more immobile I become physically, the more agile I become mentally, that's the feeling that creeps into my head. It sounds awfully pretentious when I say it like that, but I feel increasingly mentally underchallenged. I'll just say this: I'm not looking for a distraction from everyday life. I like my everyday life. By telling me about things I'm not interested in, you're not distracting me from anything anyway. So if you're going to distract me from other things I enjoy, at least tell me something I don't know. Because I don't like repetitions.
Without repeating myself, I mentioned in the last post that I still had two interesting arguments in favour of PEG. Now I have three. So let's get straight into that before I finally get bogged down in verbiage. So let's get on board and hold on tight. We'll start off with some really tough stuff.
A life in bed has no quality of life.
Statement of the nursing representative of my nursing service
- I could sit again without breathing problems.
I could finally go to the beer garden and work at my desk again.
And I could be mobilised into a wheelchair and pushed onto the balcony, because a life in bed has no quality of life.
That's what I was told by the care advisor at my care service. And that's where it gets interesting for the first time. At least it's something to think about. Think... done. What am I supposed to do in the beer garden? Watching the guests sip delicious Helles on tap and eat sumptuously, which used to be by far one of my favourite pastimes? Yeah, right.
As far as working is concerned, why should I make life unnecessarily difficult for myself? I work in my comfort zone, you could say. Twelve hours and more I can work in this position and earn money so that we all have such a chilling life here that we all enjoy. Can we please just stop all attempts to "optimise" something that works perfectly for one day? It's really frustrating in the long run.
However, it would be interesting to know whether the basic statement is true at all. To be honest, I doubt it. When I sit, the mass of my upper body inevitably presses on my lungs. And that of my thick skull, too, which is no less bad in doubt. In any case, this pressure from outside makes breathing much more difficult. My common sense tells me that it makes no difference where the breathing air comes from. The pressure on the lungs doesn't really care whether the source is a cannula or a mask. But, to put the lid on it, even if successful it would be without consequence and therefore ineffective. And to even bother with it then seems inefficient from that point of view. Two things that are simply not mine.
And then there's a small subordinate clause that I almost missed. Did you also stumble over it and have to read it twice? I'm afraid it's not a joke. It really was said to my face like that. No empathy whatsoever. Decency and politeness not at all. With so much shit, even I don't comment on anything anymore. The statement in the quote above stands for itself:
