Ok, so way back in late June I show up at the hospital with shortness of breath and sharp pain in my chest. A couple x-rays later and I'm diagnosed with a collapsed lung. They needed to put a chest tube in, in the ER and I was admitted to the hospital for three days. Just great but after those three days it was going to be resolved and I'd never hear of it again. Well, after clamping the tube and taking x-rays the lung didn't hold so they attached suction to the tube for a couple days.
So, the suction didn't work so I had to go up to Halifax for a video assisted thoracic surgery. Basically the make three cuts, go in with a camera and literally staple the lung shut. So it's now been like 2 weeks in the hospital and I can finally go home. However there was still a little air left over but the body would reabsorbe that in a week. Well it didn't and instead it slowly got worse and my lung collapsed again. So another chest tube put in for a week to expand my lung again. After three days of clamping it and my lung still held it was safe to take it out.
Everything was going great until a checkup with the surgeon in Halifax. It's starting to collapse once again and he doesn't know why. Now this is just some random Joe doctor. He's regarded to be the best east of Montreal by many and he was puzzled.
Sorry for the long read, but I was just wondering if any of you had a collapsed luing and to what extent? And if any of you have gotten to my extent how did they treat it? Thanks guys.
No but I was right next to a teammate when he got a collapsed lung... Couldn't breathe for a bit (Kind of like he was winded) and then he started to cough up blood. It was a bad scene, ambulance right on the field, like a 20 minute delay. It was dirty hit to so we got them back by scoring on the first play after the delay
His must've been a lot less serious than yours because he just went to the hospital and they told him there was an air pocket outside of his lung and they fixed it right up really quickly... actually... Now that I think of it, I think it may have been a punctured lung... not collasped
Thanks guys. Cool stories there. I read the wiki page a while back and I think the next step would be a pluerectomy which, by the sounds of things, isn't too nice
First one, I kid you not, was the day after 9/11. Woke up with a slight shortness of breath, and ache in my shoulder. By the time I had gotten dressed and started getting ready for school, it had gotten progressively worse, so I told my mom, who was on the phone at the time, that I couldn't breathe. She finished her conversation (lol), then took me to my family doctor. Using his stethoscope, he confirmed it was a complete collapse of my left lung. Off to the hospital I went, and before long I had a chest tube inserted into my side. The weird thing was that I had started feeling my heartbeat more towards the middle of my chest, and x-rays showed that the lung had shifted my heart slightly, which scared the hell out of me.
I had attributed all this to 9/11, because like pretty much everyone else, I had been glued to the TV watching the news, and maybe the stress had caused it. But the surgeon just said it was completely random, that I had a build that was prone to a spontaneous pneumothorax.
After a week my lung was back to normal, but the surgeon warned me that one collapse increased the probability of another, so I was basically told to expect another one. Sure enough, the second one occured.....on my birthday, January 28th. I didn't mind the date all that much, though, because I was also supposed to be writing my OAC Calculus final that day, which I would later be excused from (was going in with a 64 ). This collapse wasn't as bad (about 30%), but it set the stage for necessary surgery, which was performed 2 months later by the same surgeon. My left lung has been fine since.
Fast forward two years, though, and it was my right lung's turn. By now it was almost a nuisance more than anything else, and I recognized all the symptoms, so I told my girlfriend what was up and we headed to the hospital. Partial collapse of the right lung, which was given the same treatment as the left one.
Both of my lungs have been surgically repaired, removing some damaged tissue. I've been collapse-free for 4 years now, and hoping I stay that way. Only remnants are surgical scars, which can be irritating at times.
__________________
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Did you get the collapsed lung by playing or by sharp impact? I'm not sure if you can get one if there isn't an impact.
Nope, just happened randomly. It's called a spontaneous pneumothorax where little air pockets on your lung called blebs just rupture, thus leaking air into your chest cavity.
I've had 3. First one, I kid you not, was the day after 9/11. Only remnants are surgical scars, which can be irritating at times.
Damn, you've had a rough go. Mines collapsing as we speak fopr the third time in a month and a half. All on the left. I must have on seriously ****** up lung. But yes those surgical scars can be quite the nuisence.
Damn, you've had a rough go. Mines collapsing as we speak fopr the third time in a month and a half. All on the left. I must have on seriously ****** up lung. But yes those surgical scars can be quite the nuisence.
That they can.
And there are few things more nauseating than having a chest tube pulled out. Turned my stomach, every time.
Hope your left lung's surgically repaired soon enough....the collapses will likely continue until it is.
And there are few things more nauseating than having a chest tube pulled out. Turned my stomach, every time.
Hope your left lung's surgically repaired soon enough....the collapses will likely continue until it is.
Blah what an awful feeling taking it out. The thing is though it already has been surgically repaired with the VATS. Meh I guess the pleurectomy is next with the irrative chemicals.
I had a partially collapsed one, no need for a tube, but man what pain. Due to exposure to the elements. Went whitewater rafting on the Kennebec River in Maine for 3 days. We took our weight in beer along with some other illicit drugs. Between being wet a majority of the time and pickled , I guess that's what caused it. Or at least that's what they told me at the hospital.
It came on as we drove home, I lay in the back of a van and ever inhale felt like some one was stabbing me in the lung. For 4 hours.
I was just sitting at my computer one night TOTALLY NOT MASTURBATING TO ANYTHING when it felt like somebody had punched me in stomach and/or balls. I waited for a bit to see if it would go away, thinking I had indigestion or something. Little did I know I WOULD NEVER BE ABLE TO PLEASURE MYSELF AGAIN WITHOUT WONDERING IF MY VITAL ORGANS WERE GOING TO RUPTURE AT ANY MOMENT
So I wait.. and I wait.. and I wait.. and then after a couple hours I still feel the same so I just decide to sleep on it. The next morning I still feel like I am being continuously punched in the stomach and/or balls but I drive the 40 miles to school anyway. A 2.2 GPA doesn't earn itself. I get through my journalism class just fine (Feeling like I was just punched in the balls was the norm for that class) but I really start feeling the pain again in art history. Eventually I can't take it any more and I leave class to drive the 40 miles back home. Halfway through the drive I get insanely tired and almost fall asleep at a red light. I go home and take a really hot shower.. then a really cold shower.. then a really hot shower.. and I'm not feeling any better. At this point I think I'm having another panic attack (I had one about 5 or 6 months beforehand), but at least my hair is super clean now. This will come in handy when I DON'T SHOWER FOR THE NEXT 18 DAYS BECAUSE I AM NOT EVEN PHYSICALLY CAPABLE OF POOPING IN A BUCKET PLACED UNDERNEATH MY CRIPPLED ANUS.
Around noon I started hyperventilating because I had now convinced myself I was having a panic attack. I just wanted to go to the hospital and get some pills or something to calm me down. So I called my mom up to come drive me to the hospital because I didn't think it would be safe for me to drive. She picked me up and started going on and on about YOU CAN'T GO TO THE HOSPITAL EVERY TIME YOU START PANICKING. It was only the second time! What a *****. Anyway, I get to the hospital, do the usual waiting for 3 hours bit, and pretty much the next 17 days are kind of a blur. My left lung was about 95% collapsed so they stuck the usual tube in there and hooked me up with this machine that made a bubbling noise all night. They said it should have stopped bubbling within 24 hours.. UNLESS YOUR NAME IS NYK IN WHICH CASE YOU WILL HAVE TWO GIANT TUBES IN YOUR CHEST AND A BUBBLING BRIEFCASE NEXT TO YOU FOR THE ENTIRETY OF SPRING BREAK.
So the machine never stopped bubbling, although it got close at one point. Then my lung collapsed again. Another surgery, another tube goes in, and I'm still sitting in bed with a giant bubbling machine next to me. I'm told that before the surgery they had to take my pants off for some reason.. I'm pretty sure I was violated. When I woke up, I was obviously still under the influence. I am told I noticed this in my stupor and turned to the nurse and said "Did you like what you saw?" I am the coolest man alive.
So I go back to my hospital room. Now I'm not eating or drinking anything, and I'm not pooping anything either. This is the high point of my experience. Short story shorter, an Asian nurse comes in and inserts SOMETHING in my anus to make me poop. I got fingered by an Asian nurse. I am the coolest man alive.
Eventually the bubbling machine stopped bubbling and I finally took a shower and went home. So I went into the hospital on March 22nd, and I left on April 7th. I still had a small tube in my chest for the next week or so, though. When I went to my doctor's office to get it taken out, he told me to hold my breath and basically ripped this 2 foot tube out of my chest in 3 seconds. Then he stitched me up and I was on my way.
The lesson I learned? Keep the intensity of your masturbation sessions to a minimum.
I was just sitting at my computer one night TOTALLY NOT MASTURBATING TO ANYTHING when it felt like somebody had punched me in stomach and/or balls. I waited for a bit to see if it would go away, thinking I had indigestion or something. Little did I know I WOULD NEVER BE ABLE TO PLEASURE MYSELF AGAIN WITHOUT WONDERING IF MY VITAL ORGANS WERE GOING TO RUPTURE AT ANY MOMENT
So I wait.. and I wait.. and I wait.. and then after a couple hours I still feel the same so I just decide to sleep on it. The next morning I still feel like I am being continuously punched in the stomach and/or balls but I drive the 40 miles to school anyway. A 2.2 GPA doesn't earn itself. I get through my journalism class just fine (Feeling like I was just punched in the balls was the norm for that class) but I really start feeling the pain again in art history. Eventually I can't take it any more and I leave class to drive the 40 miles back home. Halfway through the drive I get insanely tired and almost fall asleep at a red light. I go home and take a really hot shower.. then a really cold shower.. then a really hot shower.. and I'm not feeling any better. At this point I think I'm having another panic attack (I had one about 5 or 6 months beforehand), but at least my hair is super clean now. This will come in handy when I DON'T SHOWER FOR THE NEXT 18 DAYS BECAUSE I AM NOT EVEN PHYSICALLY CAPABLE OF POOPING IN A BUCKET PLACED UNDERNEATH MY CRIPPLED ANUS.
Around noon I started hyperventilating because I had now convinced myself I was having a panic attack. I just wanted to go to the hospital and get some pills or something to calm me down. So I called my mom up to come drive me to the hospital because I didn't think it would be safe for me to drive. She picked me up and started going on and on about YOU CAN'T GO TO THE HOSPITAL EVERY TIME YOU START PANICKING. It was only the second time! What a *****. Anyway, I get to the hospital, do the usual waiting for 3 hours bit, and pretty much the next 17 days are kind of a blur. My left lung was about 95% collapsed so they stuck the usual tube in there and hooked me up with this machine that made a bubbling noise all night. They said it should have stopped bubbling within 24 hours.. UNLESS YOUR NAME IS NYK IN WHICH CASE YOU WILL HAVE TWO GIANT TUBES IN YOUR CHEST AND A BUBBLING BRIEFCASE NEXT TO YOU FOR THE ENTIRETY OF SPRING BREAK.
So the machine never stopped bubbling, although it got close at one point. Then my lung collapsed again. Another surgery, another tube goes in, and I'm still sitting in bed with a giant bubbling machine next to me. I'm told that before the surgery they had to take my pants off for some reason.. I'm pretty sure I was violated. When I woke up, I was obviously still under the influence. I am told I noticed this in my stupor and turned to the nurse and said "Did you like what you saw?" I am the coolest man alive.
So I go back to my hospital room. Now I'm not eating or drinking anything, and I'm not pooping anything either. This is the high point of my experience. Short story shorter, an Asian nurse comes in and inserts SOMETHING in my anus to make me poop. I got fingered by an Asian nurse. I am the coolest man alive.
Eventually the bubbling machine stopped bubbling and I finally took a shower and went home. So I went into the hospital on March 22nd, and I left on April 7th. I still had a small tube in my chest for the next week or so, though. When I went to my doctor's office to get it taken out, he told me to hold my breath and basically ripped this 2 foot tube out of my chest in 3 seconds. Then he stitched me up and I was on my way.
The lesson I learned? Keep the intensity of your masturbation sessions to a minimum.
Will do , chief. Sometimes I tend to get a bit vigorous
I was just sitting at my computer one night TOTALLY NOT MASTURBATING TO ANYTHING when it felt like somebody had punched me in stomach and/or balls. I waited for a bit to see if it would go away, thinking I had indigestion or something. Little did I know I WOULD NEVER BE ABLE TO PLEASURE MYSELF AGAIN WITHOUT WONDERING IF MY VITAL ORGANS WERE GOING TO RUPTURE AT ANY MOMENT
So I wait.. and I wait.. and I wait.. and then after a couple hours I still feel the same so I just decide to sleep on it. The next morning I still feel like I am being continuously punched in the stomach and/or balls but I drive the 40 miles to school anyway. A 2.2 GPA doesn't earn itself. I get through my journalism class just fine (Feeling like I was just punched in the balls was the norm for that class) but I really start feeling the pain again in art history. Eventually I can't take it any more and I leave class to drive the 40 miles back home. Halfway through the drive I get insanely tired and almost fall asleep at a red light. I go home and take a really hot shower.. then a really cold shower.. then a really hot shower.. and I'm not feeling any better. At this point I think I'm having another panic attack (I had one about 5 or 6 months beforehand), but at least my hair is super clean now. This will come in handy when I DON'T SHOWER FOR THE NEXT 18 DAYS BECAUSE I AM NOT EVEN PHYSICALLY CAPABLE OF POOPING IN A BUCKET PLACED UNDERNEATH MY CRIPPLED ANUS.
Around noon I started hyperventilating because I had now convinced myself I was having a panic attack. I just wanted to go to the hospital and get some pills or something to calm me down. So I called my mom up to come drive me to the hospital because I didn't think it would be safe for me to drive. She picked me up and started going on and on about YOU CAN'T GO TO THE HOSPITAL EVERY TIME YOU START PANICKING. It was only the second time! What a *****. Anyway, I get to the hospital, do the usual waiting for 3 hours bit, and pretty much the next 17 days are kind of a blur. My left lung was about 95% collapsed so they stuck the usual tube in there and hooked me up with this machine that made a bubbling noise all night. They said it should have stopped bubbling within 24 hours.. UNLESS YOUR NAME IS NYK IN WHICH CASE YOU WILL HAVE TWO GIANT TUBES IN YOUR CHEST AND A BUBBLING BRIEFCASE NEXT TO YOU FOR THE ENTIRETY OF SPRING BREAK.
So the machine never stopped bubbling, although it got close at one point. Then my lung collapsed again. Another surgery, another tube goes in, and I'm still sitting in bed with a giant bubbling machine next to me. I'm told that before the surgery they had to take my pants off for some reason.. I'm pretty sure I was violated. When I woke up, I was obviously still under the influence. I am told I noticed this in my stupor and turned to the nurse and said "Did you like what you saw?" I am the coolest man alive.
So I go back to my hospital room. Now I'm not eating or drinking anything, and I'm not pooping anything either. This is the high point of my experience. Short story shorter, an Asian nurse comes in and inserts SOMETHING in my anus to make me poop. I got fingered by an Asian nurse. I am the coolest man alive.
Eventually the bubbling machine stopped bubbling and I finally took a shower and went home. So I went into the hospital on March 22nd, and I left on April 7th. I still had a small tube in my chest for the next week or so, though. When I went to my doctor's office to get it taken out, he told me to hold my breath and basically ripped this 2 foot tube out of my chest in 3 seconds. Then he stitched me up and I was on my way.
The lesson I learned? Keep the intensity of your masturbation sessions to a minimum.
I worked on a thoracic's unit, quite a few collapsed lungs. We had a young person come in who had been crushed in between farm equipment. I don't think it gets much worse than that but the deal was about the same, usually a chest tube inserted to remove the air but for recurrent ones they used something called pleurodesis which is inserting talc or some other substance into the pleura causing it to scar. This causes the pleura to adhere to the lungs and prevent any air from getting inbetween.
I was just sitting at my computer one night TOTALLY NOT MASTURBATING TO ANYTHING when it felt like somebody had punched me in stomach and/or balls. I waited for a bit to see if it would go away, thinking I had indigestion or something. Little did I know I WOULD NEVER BE ABLE TO PLEASURE MYSELF AGAIN WITHOUT WONDERING IF MY VITAL ORGANS WERE GOING TO RUPTURE AT ANY MOMENT
So I wait.. and I wait.. and I wait.. and then after a couple hours I still feel the same so I just decide to sleep on it. The next morning I still feel like I am being continuously punched in the stomach and/or balls but I drive the 40 miles to school anyway. A 2.2 GPA doesn't earn itself. I get through my journalism class just fine (Feeling like I was just punched in the balls was the norm for that class) but I really start feeling the pain again in art history. Eventually I can't take it any more and I leave class to drive the 40 miles back home. Halfway through the drive I get insanely tired and almost fall asleep at a red light. I go home and take a really hot shower.. then a really cold shower.. then a really hot shower.. and I'm not feeling any better. At this point I think I'm having another panic attack (I had one about 5 or 6 months beforehand), but at least my hair is super clean now. This will come in handy when I DON'T SHOWER FOR THE NEXT 18 DAYS BECAUSE I AM NOT EVEN PHYSICALLY CAPABLE OF POOPING IN A BUCKET PLACED UNDERNEATH MY CRIPPLED ANUS.
Around noon I started hyperventilating because I had now convinced myself I was having a panic attack. I just wanted to go to the hospital and get some pills or something to calm me down. So I called my mom up to come drive me to the hospital because I didn't think it would be safe for me to drive. She picked me up and started going on and on about YOU CAN'T GO TO THE HOSPITAL EVERY TIME YOU START PANICKING. It was only the second time! What a *****. Anyway, I get to the hospital, do the usual waiting for 3 hours bit, and pretty much the next 17 days are kind of a blur. My left lung was about 95% collapsed so they stuck the usual tube in there and hooked me up with this machine that made a bubbling noise all night. They said it should have stopped bubbling within 24 hours.. UNLESS YOUR NAME IS NYK IN WHICH CASE YOU WILL HAVE TWO GIANT TUBES IN YOUR CHEST AND A BUBBLING BRIEFCASE NEXT TO YOU FOR THE ENTIRETY OF SPRING BREAK.
So the machine never stopped bubbling, although it got close at one point. Then my lung collapsed again. Another surgery, another tube goes in, and I'm still sitting in bed with a giant bubbling machine next to me. I'm told that before the surgery they had to take my pants off for some reason.. I'm pretty sure I was violated. When I woke up, I was obviously still under the influence. I am told I noticed this in my stupor and turned to the nurse and said "Did you like what you saw?" I am the coolest man alive.
So I go back to my hospital room. Now I'm not eating or drinking anything, and I'm not pooping anything either. This is the high point of my experience. Short story shorter, an Asian nurse comes in and inserts SOMETHING in my anus to make me poop. I got fingered by an Asian nurse. I am the coolest man alive.
Eventually the bubbling machine stopped bubbling and I finally took a shower and went home. So I went into the hospital on March 22nd, and I left on April 7th. I still had a small tube in my chest for the next week or so, though. When I went to my doctor's office to get it taken out, he told me to hold my breath and basically ripped this 2 foot tube out of my chest in 3 seconds. Then he stitched me up and I was on my way.
The lesson I learned? Keep the intensity of your masturbation sessions to a minimum.
I was just sitting at my computer one night TOTALLY NOT MASTURBATING TO ANYTHING when it felt like somebody had punched me in stomach and/or balls. I waited for a bit to see if it would go away, thinking I had indigestion or something. Little did I know I WOULD NEVER BE ABLE TO PLEASURE MYSELF AGAIN WITHOUT WONDERING IF MY VITAL ORGANS WERE GOING TO RUPTURE AT ANY MOMENT
So I wait.. and I wait.. and I wait.. and then after a couple hours I still feel the same so I just decide to sleep on it. The next morning I still feel like I am being continuously punched in the stomach and/or balls but I drive the 40 miles to school anyway. A 2.2 GPA doesn't earn itself. I get through my journalism class just fine (Feeling like I was just punched in the balls was the norm for that class) but I really start feeling the pain again in art history. Eventually I can't take it any more and I leave class to drive the 40 miles back home. Halfway through the drive I get insanely tired and almost fall asleep at a red light. I go home and take a really hot shower.. then a really cold shower.. then a really hot shower.. and I'm not feeling any better. At this point I think I'm having another panic attack (I had one about 5 or 6 months beforehand), but at least my hair is super clean now. This will come in handy when I DON'T SHOWER FOR THE NEXT 18 DAYS BECAUSE I AM NOT EVEN PHYSICALLY CAPABLE OF POOPING IN A BUCKET PLACED UNDERNEATH MY CRIPPLED ANUS.
Around noon I started hyperventilating because I had now convinced myself I was having a panic attack. I just wanted to go to the hospital and get some pills or something to calm me down. So I called my mom up to come drive me to the hospital because I didn't think it would be safe for me to drive. She picked me up and started going on and on about YOU CAN'T GO TO THE HOSPITAL EVERY TIME YOU START PANICKING. It was only the second time! What a *****. Anyway, I get to the hospital, do the usual waiting for 3 hours bit, and pretty much the next 17 days are kind of a blur. My left lung was about 95% collapsed so they stuck the usual tube in there and hooked me up with this machine that made a bubbling noise all night. They said it should have stopped bubbling within 24 hours.. UNLESS YOUR NAME IS NYK IN WHICH CASE YOU WILL HAVE TWO GIANT TUBES IN YOUR CHEST AND A BUBBLING BRIEFCASE NEXT TO YOU FOR THE ENTIRETY OF SPRING BREAK.
So the machine never stopped bubbling, although it got close at one point. Then my lung collapsed again. Another surgery, another tube goes in, and I'm still sitting in bed with a giant bubbling machine next to me. I'm told that before the surgery they had to take my pants off for some reason.. I'm pretty sure I was violated. When I woke up, I was obviously still under the influence. I am told I noticed this in my stupor and turned to the nurse and said "Did you like what you saw?" I am the coolest man alive.
So I go back to my hospital room. Now I'm not eating or drinking anything, and I'm not pooping anything either. This is the high point of my experience. Short story shorter, an Asian nurse comes in and inserts SOMETHING in my anus to make me poop. I got fingered by an Asian nurse. I am the coolest man alive.
Eventually the bubbling machine stopped bubbling and I finally took a shower and went home. So I went into the hospital on March 22nd, and I left on April 7th. I still had a small tube in my chest for the next week or so, though. When I went to my doctor's office to get it taken out, he told me to hold my breath and basically ripped this 2 foot tube out of my chest in 3 seconds. Then he stitched me up and I was on my way.
The lesson I learned? Keep the intensity of your masturbation sessions to a minimum.
Very well told story even though I already knew half of it.
I was just sitting at my computer one night TOTALLY NOT MASTURBATING TO ANYTHING when it felt like somebody had punched me in stomach and/or balls. I waited for a bit to see if it would go away, thinking I had indigestion or something. Little did I know I WOULD NEVER BE ABLE TO PLEASURE MYSELF AGAIN WITHOUT WONDERING IF MY VITAL ORGANS WERE GOING TO RUPTURE AT ANY MOMENT
So I wait.. and I wait.. and I wait.. and then after a couple hours I still feel the same so I just decide to sleep on it. The next morning I still feel like I am being continuously punched in the stomach and/or balls but I drive the 40 miles to school anyway. A 2.2 GPA doesn't earn itself. I get through my journalism class just fine (Feeling like I was just punched in the balls was the norm for that class) but I really start feeling the pain again in art history. Eventually I can't take it any more and I leave class to drive the 40 miles back home. Halfway through the drive I get insanely tired and almost fall asleep at a red light. I go home and take a really hot shower.. then a really cold shower.. then a really hot shower.. and I'm not feeling any better. At this point I think I'm having another panic attack (I had one about 5 or 6 months beforehand), but at least my hair is super clean now. This will come in handy when I DON'T SHOWER FOR THE NEXT 18 DAYS BECAUSE I AM NOT EVEN PHYSICALLY CAPABLE OF POOPING IN A BUCKET PLACED UNDERNEATH MY CRIPPLED ANUS.
Around noon I started hyperventilating because I had now convinced myself I was having a panic attack. I just wanted to go to the hospital and get some pills or something to calm me down. So I called my mom up to come drive me to the hospital because I didn't think it would be safe for me to drive. She picked me up and started going on and on about YOU CAN'T GO TO THE HOSPITAL EVERY TIME YOU START PANICKING. It was only the second time! What a *****. Anyway, I get to the hospital, do the usual waiting for 3 hours bit, and pretty much the next 17 days are kind of a blur. My left lung was about 95% collapsed so they stuck the usual tube in there and hooked me up with this machine that made a bubbling noise all night. They said it should have stopped bubbling within 24 hours.. UNLESS YOUR NAME IS NYK IN WHICH CASE YOU WILL HAVE TWO GIANT TUBES IN YOUR CHEST AND A BUBBLING BRIEFCASE NEXT TO YOU FOR THE ENTIRETY OF SPRING BREAK.
So the machine never stopped bubbling, although it got close at one point. Then my lung collapsed again. Another surgery, another tube goes in, and I'm still sitting in bed with a giant bubbling machine next to me. I'm told that before the surgery they had to take my pants off for some reason.. I'm pretty sure I was violated. When I woke up, I was obviously still under the influence. I am told I noticed this in my stupor and turned to the nurse and said "Did you like what you saw?" I am the coolest man alive.
So I go back to my hospital room. Now I'm not eating or drinking anything, and I'm not pooping anything either. This is the high point of my experience. Short story shorter, an Asian nurse comes in and inserts SOMETHING in my anus to make me poop. I got fingered by an Asian nurse. I am the coolest man alive.
Eventually the bubbling machine stopped bubbling and I finally took a shower and went home. So I went into the hospital on March 22nd, and I left on April 7th. I still had a small tube in my chest for the next week or so, though. When I went to my doctor's office to get it taken out, he told me to hold my breath and basically ripped this 2 foot tube out of my chest in 3 seconds. Then he stitched me up and I was on my way.
The lesson I learned? Keep the intensity of your masturbation sessions to a minimum.
