My surgery went well, though a few unexpected things happened, prolonging my recovery time.
Here is how it was suppose to go:
(note, if reading about medical procedures makes you ill, skip past this (because it will make you feel ill, trust me) and just enjoy the photos at the end of this post. ;))
I went in for a diagnostic laparoscopy. They were going to make about three small incisions in my lower abdomen and go in with a small camera to see what’s causing my periods to be so incredibly painful. My doctor and I suspected it was endometriosis. He would take care of that and then send me on my way. I would get to go home the same day of surgery and recovery time would be about a week, maybe less, and I would just be sore.
Here is how the surgery actually went:
They made three small incisions in my lower abdomen and went in with a camera. It was, in fact, endometriosis. However, it was worse than we had expected. He took care of it, but he also had to scrape out my uterus (I warned you). He also noticed that my appendix did not look well. It was swollen and was very likely going to burst, so he removed it.
I also developed a rash during surgery, so they pumped me full of Benadryl.
I was sent to the recovery room (or so I’m told, I don’t remember a thing, haha) and then back to my room where my Mom was waiting.
Coming to was scary, because the last thing I remembered was feeling relaxed and at ease and in absolutely no pain at all, but now I was waking up to a whole lot of pain. I also felt as though I couldn’t breathe. I was so groggy and out of it that I couldn’t really remember how, and I wasn’t sure if there was anyone in the room to help me. I remember saying, “I can’t breathe.” “It hurts.” and “I want Lassie.”
The only thing I remember hearing is, “They had to remove her appendix.”
Which only confused my drugged mind even further.
I did NOT go in to have my appendix removed, what is going on?!
I also heard my Mom say, “You have to wake up, then I can take you home to see Lassie.”
I took her very literally and thought they were going to send me home the second my eyes opened, so I stopped trying to open them, because there was no way I was going to get up and go home, no way, no how.
Eventually I woke up (or as much as you can wake up when you’re doped up on pain killers and Benadryl) and everything was explained to me (for probably the hundredth time).
The plan was still to send me home that day.
I got up, with the help of a nurse and was walked into the bathroom. The nurse was just going to leave me there to do my thing, but I called my Mom in, because I was drugged and scared. She helped me sit, stand, and walk over to the sink. I remember reaching out for the faucet and then suddenly I felt like I was sinking. I heard my Mom saying my name, but I couldn’t respond, then nothing. The next thing I remember was being on the floor, in my Mom’s arms, and I could hear her trying to figure out what to do. I told her to pull the string by the toilet. She laid me down on the floor and went to pull the string. I vaguely remember my Mom sitting me back up and I don’t really remember my nurse (not the nurse who left me to use the restroom by myself) coming in, he just kind of appeared by my side. He pulled out a small flash light (I was so out of it, I was sure it was an EpiPen at first, and he must of been able to tell that I was freaked out by his flash light, because he said, “It’s just a flash light.”) and shone it in my eyes, then he had me follow it with my eyes. Now I’ve followed things with my eyes before and it’s easy peasy, but this time it felt like it took a bit of effort to focus on it and follow it.
I don’t remember being picked up and I don’t remember how I got back to my bed, but I was in bed and the nurse who left me was putting that obnoxious oxygen tube in my nose and told me my lips were a little blue (apparently I had stopped breathing, though I don’t remember not breathing). My nurse, Jared, told me he was going to test my blood sugar. Both nurses left the room; Jared went to get what he needed to test my blood sugar, and the girl left to go do whatever her job entails.
That oxygen tube became very annoying very quickly. It was too much. I felt like I couldn’t breathe properly because I was getting too much air. I asked my Mom if I could take it out, she said no and again explained why it was there. I cried. Of all the things I could’ve cried about that day, I cried about the obnoxious tube blowing air up my nose.
Jared came back in and I told him I didn’t like it, so he took it out. I like to think that my pathetic state made him feel sorry for me, so he gave me what I wanted. But my Mom later informed me that he only gave me what I wanted because my lips were almost back to their usual color and I was breathing well.
My blood sugar was tested and all looked well, so that wasn’t why I had fainted.
I think it was a number of things all put together.
1: I hadn’t had anything to eat since 11:30 am Monday morning (per doctor’s instructions). It was now Tuesday afternoon. I do remember eating applesauce and crackers, but I can’t remember if this was before or after I fainted. Either way, my stomach was running on empty.
2: I was full of drugs. I may be an adult, but I have a child-sized body.
3: I was very, very, very tired. Completely exhausted. Like falling-asleep-while-being-pricked-in-the-finger-with-a-needle tired.
4: It was too much too soon. I was not ready to get out of bed.
After that incident, it wasn’t really clear if I was going to go home that day.
The original plan was to get me out of there by 2 pm, that definitely did not happen.
They kept a close eye on me and finally allowed me to just sleep.
I ate crackers and ice chips and chugged cups of water, but mostly I slept.
The next time I got out of bed, I had a nurse (Jared and a girl who looked and sounded remarkably like Victoria Justice) on either side of me, and they helped me walk down the halls. It was slow going and I didn’t make it very far on my jelly-legs, but at least I didn’t faint.
They consulted with my doctor and it was decided that I could go home.
I got to ride in a wheelchair out to the car. I think that was the highlight of my day.
That and coming home.
My original recovery time: approximately 1 week.
New recovery time: approximately 2 weeks.
Even though my doctor told me, several times, that things may not go according to plan and there might be additional problems that may extend my recovery time, it’s still frustrating. I should be slowly getting back into the swing of things right now, but instead I’m just barely able to sit up for more than a minute or two at a time. I should be weaning myself off of my pain killers, not counting down the minutes until I can have another one because I’m in so much pain.
Every time I get frustrated I remind myself how truly grateful I am than my appendix was removed before it could burst. I’m truly grateful that I won’t have to experience that.
I am also so grateful for my wonderful family. Not only are they taking great care of me, but they are taking great care of Lassie and Petal, too. Thank you, guys.
Especially you, Mom. Thank you for helping me with everything.
A get well gift from Grandma.
P.S. What do you guys think of the blog’s new look? I had it all ready to go before my surgery and was planning to get it up on November 1st. I almost didn’t achieve my goal, but I was determined, and stubborn. 😉 So hopefully it looks alright.