November 17th, 2009

9:30pm: got ready for bed, tucked myself in with my dog and the remote, watched a few episodes of CSI.

10:15pm: last time I looked at the clock before I fell asleep.

November 18th, 2009

12:30am: woke up briefly because someone mis-dialed and called my cell phone by mistake. Luckily, I was able to fall right back asleep.

4:30am: alarm went off. I was out of bed, in the shower and ready to go by 5:00am.

5:09am: cried when I hugged Jason (our friend; he came to stay with our kids while my husband and mother accompanied me to the hospital) goodbye.

6:12am: stopped at McDonald’s so my husband and mother could pick up breakfast. I had to continue starving — protein shake diet for the past five days, nothing but clear liquids since Monday 11/16 — while they enjoyed their sausage sandwiches.

6:15am: arrived at the hospital

I checked in at the front desk at 6:20am, and was directed to the pre-admissions waiting area. Within ten minutes I was called in to verify my identify, give my husband’s contact information, sign consent forms and receive a hospital bracelet. I was then directed back out to the waiting area to wait to be escorted to pre-op.

Within ten minutes the three of us were taken to pre-op and sent to another waiting area. I no sooner sat down when my name was called, and my husband accompanied me to the pre-op area. I was directed to undress, and was given the oh-so-lovely mesh underwear (or butt nets, as I call them) and OB pads since my period decided to come four days early. I also took out my earrings, nose stud and contacts. My husband and I occupied ourselves with our cell phones and a magazine until 8:00am or so, when the game of 20 questions was over and a nurse put my IV in. A guy from anesthesia came over and gave me some anti-anxiety meds — by request, since I was freaking out inside and needed something to calm me down. Let me tell you, that stuff, whatever it was, hit me FAST. Within a minute or two I was feeling warm, fuzzy, and slightly tipsy. My husband and mother confirmed that I was acting like I was slightly drunk.

I don’t know if I dozed off after that or what, because the next thing I know I’m hearing my husband and mother tell me goodbye and that they loved me, and I’m entering the operating room. Despite the anti-anxiety meds I was given I burst into tears and asked to be put out ASAP, before I had a nervous breakdown from being so nervous. I then apologized for crying like a big baby. The nurses in the room helped me onto the operating table, stretched out my arms, put straps on my arms and across my chest, and then piled heated blankets on me. The last thing I remember is my surgeon coming over and hugging me, stroking my face and telling me that everything would be fine, and then an oxygen mask was put on my face. I remember complaining that I felt like I was being smothered by it, and the person holding it adjusted it so that my nose wasn’t so squished. Then I was out.

I first woke up in the recovery area. I believe there was another patient next to me and someone else across from me, the three of us being separated by curtains. I don’t know why they were there. I don’t remember much, besides seeing sunlight coming into the room, and a nurse asking how I felt. I was breathing very shallowly because the muscles around my diaphragm seriously HURT. I was asked if I wanted to be moved to my room so I could see my family; I said no because I couldn’t stand the idea of being jostled around as I was wheeled down the hall and to god only knows where.

The next time I woke up I was being jostled around as I was being wheeled down a hall and into an elevator. I felt slightly nauseous from the movements, so I did my best to breath slowly and shallowly, and I kept my eyes closed so the ceiling whirring by wouldn’t make me feel any more sick. The next thing I remember is protesting when the nurses transferred me from the bed I was in to the bed in the hospital room — they used some type of 2-piece inflatable air mattress to move first one side of me, then the other. I seriously felt like I was going to fall off the bed, and my chest and stomach muscles tightened up in response — NOT a pleasant feeling after surgery!

My husband and my mom were in the room with me. I have vague memories of them calling my name, my mom touching my face and stroking my forehead, my husband kissing me. Then I was back out. I think it was 12:30pm or so. I vaguely heard my mom leave about an hour or so later, and that’s all I remember until later in the afternoon, when I used a remote to give myself a dose of morphine from a pain pump that was connected to my IV.

Later that afternoon I was asked to get out of bed and walk down the hallway and back. I don’t remember much about it, besides it hurting, and them directing me to a chair to sit in once we got back into the hospital room, where I promptly conked out and slept for another two or so hours before they helped me back into bed. FYI, catheters suck, and make it more difficult to sit up, twist around, stand, walk, etc. IVs aren’t much better, especially when you have two of them. I went into the OR with an IV in my right hand, and came out with an IV in my left hand as well.

That evening, around 6:00pm or so, I was definitely more with it. I noticed the additional IV, as well as the small hospital gown (what happened to the larger gown I wore into the ER?), and the distinct lack of butt net and OB pad. That was my running quip for the rest of my hospital stay: entered the OR with a large gown, a pad and a butt net, came out missing all those things and having gained another IV. Fun.

Around 7:00pm or so I started getting pins and needles all over: in my face, chest, arms, legs, feet, etc. My legs felt heavy, and my chest felt heavy. I started to panic, but kept relatively calm when I explained to the nurse how I was feeling: the insane pressure and tightness that wrapped around my chest and back. They took my vitals (as they did every hour: temp, blood pressure, oxygen level, “What is your pain level?”, etc.), and everything checked out. They ordered a chest x-ray and an EKG, and those also checked out. Turns out it was just trapped air that moved up into my chest; the surgery was laparoscopic, and thus required that my abdominal cavity be filled up with gas during the procedure. I walked several more times that night, and the trapped air migrated down to my stomach and sides. FYI, I think the gas pains have been the most excruciating pain I’ve experienced with this surgery. The burning and aching pain of my stomach and general insides isn’t pleasant, but the gas pains really suck. And when they press on my stomach and intestines, it gets even more painful.

November 19th, 2009

I didn’t sleep well on Wednesday night, presumably because I slept so much that afternoon and evening. I did crash around 11:30pm, when Dan was on the phone with someone from work. But I woke up at 2:30am when they came in to check my vitals, and again at 3:30am. I also started getting a wicked headache at this point, so I asked for more anti-nausea meds so I could take more morphine (I have a morphine sensitivity; without the anti-nausea meds I would be experiencing severe nausea and would most likely be vomiting as well). I slept rather fitfully between then and 8:30am, when I gave up and put my bed into the most upright position so I could sit on the side of the bed and let my legs hang down for a bit. (Have I mentioned how uncomfortable hospital beds really are? Ugh!)

On Thursday morning my catheter was removed. Thank god. It wasn’t pleasant to have in, the slightest movement of the tube would jostle around the part of the catheter that was in my urethra, and wow did that hurt. And at one point during the night the tube got kinked, so even though the catheter was in I felt like I had to pee. THAT sucked!

After the cath was out I had the IV in my left hand removed, since there was nothing going into it. I was then brought “breakfast” — water, this nasty, foamy gelatin, chicken soup broth, hot tea and some type of extremely sweet jello. I picked a bit at the jello, ate a few spoonfuls of the chicken soup broth, had a few sips of water, and then I was full.

I did more walking on Thursday afternoon. I was sore and walking hurt, and it was a slow process, but walking is the only thing that will shift around gas pain and get bowels functioning again, so I kept it up, going up and down the halls with my husband and my IV pole. TMI, I started passing gas on Thursday night, and I have never in my life been so happy and relieved to fart. The release of pressure in my abdominal area was blissful.

I had “lunch” — the same contents as breakfast, except beef soup broth instead of chicken soup broth, and then dinner. Again, a few sips of this and that and I was full. I guess that’s what happens when you’re on a continuous IV drip of fluids and your stomach is the size of an egg. Also, the morphine pump was removed, and that afternoon I received my first dose of liquid Vicodin — the stuff of the gods, let me tell you. It takes care of the pain SO much better than the morphine ever did.

Jason came to visit that evening, and my husband left to run a quick errand. Jason walked with me up and down the halls, helped me into bed and kept me company. I had another dose of pain meds around 9:00pm or so, and fell asleep while we were watching House. I woke up around 12:30am, when my husband left. It wasn’t long after that when Jason left, since it was so late.

November 20th, 2009

I slept surprisingly well on Thursday night. I got more Vicodin around 2:00am, and slept straight through until 4:30am, when I woke up to go to the bathroom. My surgeon checked on me at 6:30am, and another doctor stopped in around 7:45am, but I fell back asleep quickly after they left and didn’t get up for the “day” until closer to 9:30am. My IV was removed from my right hand, I had a bit of a Carnation breakfast shake for breakfast, more water, and received my discharge papers and a prescription for liquid Vicodin around 10:00am. My husband slept in until close to 12:30pm. He got up, and then helped me shower. I was so happy to shower, as I felt quite gross after not having a shower for two days (despite not really doing anything).

I was officially discharged at 2:00pm, though we had to wait for the wheelchair and assistant to arrive. She wheeled me down the hall, in the elevator and out to the car — every bump and turn was painful. The hour-long car ride was even more painful, and once we got home I had to drag myself out of the car and into the house. I made it into the bedroom and burst into tears from the pain — a combination of incision/inside pain and gas pain. My husband gave me a dose of Vicodin, and I laid in bed and dozed for a few hours.

I had a bit of chicken soup broth last night, did my best to sip water often, and fell asleep with a fresh dose of Vicodin in my system by 12:30am. I slept straight through until 9:30am this morning. Those nine hours were amazing, I really needed them!

Today I have just been taking my time. I’m in a good deal of pain, but I’m trying to space out the medication. I took a dose this morning around 11:00am and dozed off and on from 1:30-3:00pm, and took a 1/3 dose about an hour ago. I like the pain relief, but I don’t really like sleeping throughout the day. I’ll do a full dose this evening, when I can take advantage of it by going to bed early.

For what it’s worth, my weight the day of surgery was 286.4. This morning it was 281.1.

Related posts:

1. No pain, no gain. Right? Right.
2. The last night
3. Too sick for endoscopy