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Monday, September 2, 2013

One Week Post Op

It has been a very interesting week.  I was out of surgery by evening Monday, one week ago.  I do not like epidurals. I hardly even used my pain button.  By Tuesday, I was begging to have it removed. One of my legs felt completely paralyzed.  Upside, I couldn't feel the pain in my abdomen.  Downside, the pain in my back and arms and shoulder and neck were miserable, because I was trying to use my upper body to move to a more comfortable position; one which I was never able to find.  They finally discovered that they weren't going to talk me out of getting the epidural out.  Once it was removed and the medicine wore off, I was in significantly more pain than before.  But at least I could move.  They were able to manage my pain fairly effectively with Hydrocodone (by mouth) and Tordol (by IV).  They talked about sending me home on Wednesday.  I told the doctors I was nowhere near ready to go.  Wednesday morning I saw the nurse practitioner, who agreed with my assessment of my condition.  One more day.  I had a great nurse for the day shift that day.  Not so great thru the night.  I was really glad when 7 a.m. Thursday morning rolled around.  By Thursday noon, I was headed to Mom's house, which is where I still am until this Thursday.  I get better and better every day.  I have lost over 10 pounds of water weight in 4 days, and still going down.  The swelling is better each day, as is the level of my pain.  One thing though, my back is killing me, and my rear-end keeps falling asleep.  I guess it doesn't like to be constantly sat upon.

I try to get up and walk, stretch and keep my muscles moving.  I cannot stand up straight.  I have figured out how to sleep on my side, very carefully, and that has been a great relief to my back. I have been trying to write this post since last Thursday.  Please take note:  it is very difficult to concentrate and organize your thoughts when pain medicine courses through your veins.  My eyelids are terribly heavy....

...In case you were wondering, a thirty minute nap just occurred between this sentence and the last.  I feel a bit refreshed.  Perhaps I will be able to bring this post to a close with some sense as to what thought I was trying to convey.  Perhaps.

It is a funny thing, recovering from surgery.  You have a lot of time to think.  In many cases, that is good.  In others, it poses a challenge: Coping with what you have contemplated during that time you had to think.  I think about the healing process itself.  I pray that I don't have any complications in my 18" incision, my two drains, or my new belly button.  I pray that there is no problem with my internal incision.  I try to wrap my head around the fact that a large portion of my body has been removed.  Not my skin or my bellly.  My uterus.  Gone. Forever. The possibility of having more children, gone with it. What I am as a woman has been drastically altered.  It really shouldn't matter.  But it does.  Even if you are just meant to mourn the loss a little while and move on, it matters.  It is necessary, I think, to process those thoughts and not dismiss them, or hold them in.  Shed a tear for your body and its change.  Then, embrace the change and be the best woman you can possibly be.





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