Hospitals are not Hiltons

I am home. I had my surgery. And I am so humbled by this whole experience.

So much happened in the last 4 days. It feels like both the longest and the shortest days of my life. Is that even possible?

This was me at about 10:50am on Monday outside of the hospital.

N and the boys got this shirt for me as a nice way to keep the experience positive and light-hearted. While the photo was taken when I arrived, I waited to share it until after the surgery. I figured I’d want to share it when it was over but some thought this was after the surgery. Heck no! I didn’t wear real clothes until sometime late Tuesday morning and I sure didn’t look this well as I hobbled from the wheelchair to the car!

Anyway, I felt pretty good going into the surgery. It’s funny though, going to a hospital I figured they would just be the experts and know everything that needed to be done and I would just be able to relax and let them take care of everything. Not so much. Hospitals are not Hiltons, after all.

The consent form they handed me was the first clue that I will always have to be my own advocate. The form included the removal of my ovaries, which was not part of the plan. Needless to say, I did not sign that one.

Next, while a very kind nurse was trying to give me an IV, a very impatient phlebotomist came in to take some blood. She actually wanted me to hand over my right arm while the lady was trying to start the IV in my left arm. Settle down lady, can’t you all just get the blood out of the IV line so I am only stuck once?

Theoretically yes, but the woman trying to start the IV couldn’t. She set the IV then the impatient lady got my blood with one stick and was out! Then I noticed my skin burning at the site and a big bubble pooling under the site. That IV was definitely NOT in the right place. The main nurse restarted the IV in my hand with no issues.

At about the same time the IV was finally restarted, a tall doctor who introduced himself as the anesthesiologist came into the room with his rolling computer and began talking really fast and clicking buttons. I looked at him and realized I hadn’t heard one single word he said. So I interrupted him and said “I am going to need you to start over again and slow down so I can understand you.” He stopped clicking and looked at me, then he actually saw me. He answered all of my questions (like would I need a catheter and would I be awake when they took the tube out, yes/no FYI).

The rest is a bit of a blur. I signed the right consent form kissed N goodbye, and as nervous as I was I ept thinking about how happy I was that this was me and not one of the boys or even N. Inside I wanted to run away from it all. I wished the pregnancy test had been positive or that the doctor would have been called away for an emergency. But I also wanted to get this over with. It was a constant dichotomy.

Even though the rest is a blur, I will never forget the way I felt right before I drifted off to sleep. Nicole, the anesthesia nurse, looked me in the eyes each time she spoke to me. I crawled up onto the operating table and scooted to where they needed me. I laid my head back and she put the mask on my face. Then she placed both hands on both sides of my face and said she was right there with me and that they would all take very good care of me. I let out a little cry of relief and fear and thanked her. I closed my eyes, which started to water, took some deep breaths and fell asleep.

Next thing I remember is opening my eyes in the recovery room. My nurse spoke to me and I tried to talk but my throat was sore from the tube. The more I spoke the easier it was. I drifted in and out of sleep and felt really good. I had no pain. My mouth was pretty dry and she gave me ice chips to suck on. Apparently general anesthesia shuts off all body systems including the creation of saliva. It takes awhile for that to return.

It was about 4:30pm when I first woke up and my pain level was never more than a 2. It was very well controlled. Long story short, I finally made it to a hospital room at 8:30pm. Yes, I was in recovery for 4 hours! I should have only been there for 1-1.5 hours. It was actually a very entertaining 4 hours. I’ll have to share that part of the story for another time.

I was so relieved to see N in the hospital room. I was really sad that it was too late for the boys to come to the hospital, but we talked through FaceTime, which was nice. I was also really disappointed that I couldn’t eat anything. I was starving! I was NPO then in clear liquids. Tea never tasted so good!

Not a great photo, but you get the idea.

I didn’t sleep well overnight but enjoyed the peacefulness of the empty room and the TV to myself. I was anxious to get home and was released at about 10am on Tuesday.

I’m slowly gaining strength each day but man, this is SO HARD! I have a whole new understanding of and respect for surgery. I have often said that BBZ’s whole personality changed after the surgery he had at 9 months old, and I believe that even more now. I am an adult and this experience was traumatizing. Don’t get me wrong, I am okay, but this experience was no joke and has been harder than I could have predicted.

I think the worst part for me has been the pain from the gas they injected into my abdomen to make room for the laparoscopic surgery tools. Apparently the gas irritates the diaphragm which is on the same nerves as the shoulders, so the pain radiates from my front to my back and doesn’t seem to be helped by any medication. I was not prepared for that! Tonight was the first time I have really had much relief. Luckily I am just taking ibuprofen now rather than a Tylenol/ibuprofen combo. I tried taking the Tylenol 3 but it didn't seem to be any different and I hate taking prescription medications.

As should be expected, I am having a hard time with the lack of activity. I am so used to being crazy active with 13k+ steps daily and this drastic reduction seems like a shock to my body. I am getting up and moving around, but I get tired really quickly and have to sit back down.

The good news is I am feeling stronger each day! I am just not good at taking it easy. I am trying though. I don’t really have a choice. My mom and dad have come over to keep me company and make sure we are all eating well, so many friends have reached out and I have received some really thoughtful care packages with goodies to enjoy post surgery. I’m working on word puzzles and binge watching Netflix and trying to remind myself that I will be able to run again sometime soon-ish. I walked around the little circle outside a couple of times, but I get light headed and I can’t go alone and it kind of freaks me out.

I’m trying to listen to my body and not think about my fitness, but it sure is hard to turn off the part of my mind that is so focused on finding health through movement and activity. I am trying to focus that same health-seeking mindset on resting and allowing my body the time it needs to heal but man, it is hard!

I’m on strict no driving orders until next week and I see why. My abdomen is sore and my reflexes are a bit delayed. Hopefully all of that will be back and in order for Monday when N travels again.

Thanks to everyone who has helped so far with thoughts, prayers, positivity, cards, messages and stuff to keep me occupied. I genuinely appreciate it all.

And I really, REALLY can’t wait to run again. I should probably focus on being able to walk around the block first.