The last couple days before surgery I found myself trying to keep up with things that need doing that I won't be able to do for a while, Rearrange freezer, do some sewing, update living will, bake some bran muffins for freezer, check out books from library, renew prescriptions, try to buy at least 4-6 weeks of groceries at once.... sigh...
I checked out about a thousand books on Watercolor at the library. It's one art form that has eluded me forever. It should be so simple! Maybe because it is so 2 dimensional. Oils, and sculpture and quilts all have texture and form. There are tactile pieces that I can handle. Watercolor just runs around the page like a coffee spill. I determined that I WILL CONQUER this (in about 6 weeks.LOL)
Reviewing what fibroids look like online reminded me of Dragon Eggs, so I started calling them that.
The day of surgery, I was admitted for full Vag Hyst without incident and the last thing I remember was getting undressed and getting the iv put in.
Consciousness came back when I was in my room at the castle. I briefly remember that my DH was there and a nurse to show me the pain pump. That was all that mattered at the time.
I foggily remember bits of the day and night, mostly being uncomfortable and struggling with my cpap and all the cords and tubes. It didn't seem to me that the nurses were helping to straighten any of that out. I must have talked to the Dr at some point because I remember vaguely the answer to "how many fibroids?" being "LOTS!"
It wasn't till several days later that I talked coherently to my Dr, I found that my uterus was about the size of a honeydew melon and the largest "dragon egg" was the size of a grapefruit with others in the clutch as well (apples, plums... and alot of what she described as coarse hominy grits). A cyst on my R ovary completed the family portrait. She was able to slice off the cyst and keep most of the ovary. The L ovary was fine. Amazingly, she did all of this vaginally!
Apparantly that large a challenge would've been switched to an abd, but she kept slicing and dicing till she got it all.
I heard on the TV that Lily Munster passed away the same day. I imagined she took my dragon eggs with her beyond the veil.
The day after surgery, the catheter was removed and I insisted on going to the bathroom. My arthritis had me all locked up and I needed to stand and move as well. Had a total row with the nurses about getting up which threw me into a panic attack. My DH stepped in immediately and insisted they listen to me,
which they did. (he has that effect on people ). I DID pee!
Clean, sterile protocol was haphazard among the nurses… From trying to draw blood (I have difficult veins) without using gloves, to leaving a pile of needles and bloody biohazard waste on my food tray when they left the room. When I complained about that, they said “Well we weren’t done yet! Then my id bracelet came off and a nurse picked it up off the yellow streaked floor and handed it back to me. I freaked. I demanded a new one. She dropped it again and tried handing it to me. The look in my eyes scared her back to the nurses station to get a new one.
I developed a fever. 101 plus something. So they wouldn’t let me go home. Ran more tests on everything except the vaginal area, which kind of surprised me, as that was where the incision was. Took me to get an XRAY in an adj blg by wheelchair, and managed to drag the iv tube on the floor which got caught in the wheels and yanked me half out of the chair and nearly yanked out the tube, and also managed to hit every door jamb on the way. I wouldn’t let my DH out of my site by this time, I was so furious at them. To my knowledge, they never did find a reason for the fever. (gosh, maybe aseptic protocol?)
Then the cleaning crew broke my cpap headgear by dragging it under the bedtray wheels. I really exploded.
They brought over a resp therapist who had a sort of substitute that didn’t fit very well, but was all they had. It would have to do, but was noisy and leaky. If you have apnea, you know that leaky is not good!
By this time malpractice was starting to enter into our vocabulary. The next day, my fever was going down and I just wanted to go home. Some social worker came in, for some unknown reason, and when I told her I would feel better at home, she said “We can’t do that! That would be Malpractice now, wouldn’t it?” The other nurses quickly dragged her out of the room whispering about how that was already being mentioned!
Surgery was Monday, I finally was released on Thursday, and gratefully settled into my comfy bed at home, :bedjump: armed with Oxycontin and Motrin and loving DH and DS that have since been taking over everything and making me feel like a queen.
They collectively yell at me (lovingly ) “Let me do that” when I go to pick something up or otherwise disobey Dr orders.
I was able to fix my original headgear, once I didn’t have to contend with the Morphine in my system, so can breathe properly at night again.
I’m walking around a bit every hour or two and all systems seem to back to normal. Yesterday, finally all the gas decided to leave my system. I was a regular hair dryer for most of the day!
It’s been a week and while I try to be up a bit more each day I still need the Oxycontin. I tried just the Motrin and some Vicodin, but the pain took over my body after 5 or 6 hours past the dosage time. So I am going to call Dr and plead for more, as this morning is my last pill from the Hosp px.
And yes, I’ve gone through 4 books on watercolor and finally was able to sit up long enough to start putting them into practice.
:timeup: Ok, been sitting too long, going back to bed to be properly pampered.
REALLY thankful for this site, and the opportunity to find out I am not so alone in all this! Thanks Ladies, just for being here!!!