I finally made it to my room at close to 10pm Monday night. I still couldn't open my eyes, for some reason they were swollen shut. But I knew my husband and my mom were still there. I remember asking them, "Did I give you guys a scare?" I got a very exasperated "YES" from both of them. It was probably a good thing I couldn't see their faces. I vaguely remember the doctor stopping by and confirming it was a hysterectomy. I was in a complete fog and did not fully understand what had happened yet. I know I called one of my co-workers and I think she was at a ball game and couldn't hear me good. I ended up texting her about the hysterectomy. I wasn't very subtle about it, and I blame it on the medicine.
Really all I remember about that night is itching all over and my throat was dry and sore. I was given Benadryl and pain medicine and had an ice pack across my abdomen. Oh, and I got another serving of red Jello. I was still starving!!
The next morning, all the events began to come to light. It felt like they were talking about someone else instead of what had happened to me. None of it felt real.
My doctor had tried to do the DNC for over an hour. The placenta was breaking into pieces and was stuck to the uterine wall. I was loosing way to much blood. Finally, she went to my husband in the waiting room and explained to him what was going on. I needed a blood transfusion immediately, and a hysterectomy. Otherwise, I was going to bleed to death right there on the table. They actually almost lost me. I had two transfusions during the surgery and had to be incubated (I think that's the right term for it!). That was why my throat was sore.
I really don't know when they brought little C-Bug in to the room. I honestly was still so out of it and felt like I was having an out of body experience. This couldn't have happened to me. I bounce back too quick and this wasn't going to hold me down. Ha. I do remember trying to nurse C every time she was ready to eat. Unfortunately because she was bottle fed on demand the first 24 hours, she didn't have the patience to nurse. But I tried and tried as much as she would. At least she was able to get the colostrum, or as the doctors like to call it: liquid gold.
Later that day, they removed my catheter and got me up on the side of the bed to try and go to the bathroom. No problem. Just get me to my feet and I'll do the rest.
I was in for a very rude awakening.
For some, this may be an over share, but I'm documenting this for myself and I'm trying to be brutally honest here. No sugar coating. When I tried to stand up, I couldn't. At least not without support from a nurse on each side. As soon as I stood, my bladder failed me. Yes, I peed all over the floor and had no control over it. I. Was. Pissed. Literally and figuratively speaking. Why didn't I have control over my bladder and why couldn't I walk on my own? I'm She-Ra, hear me roar!! I don't need help.
Humbling.
As aggravating as it was, it was also humbling. Turns out I wasn't the perfect, strong, bounce right back mama I thought I was. And coughing? Oh my goodness. I had to brace myself against a wall, hold my belly, and gently work out the cough. I was obviously going to pee on myself when I did, but it hurt like hell too. But honestly, that wasn't the worst part of it all. The gas pain was.
I begged for gas ex. It felt like I had a helium balloon inside of me and I seriously begged the nurses to just pop me and let the gas out. It was horrible. When asked what my pain was on a scale of 1-10 I would say anywhere from 11 to 13. So they kept me on pain meds, even though I told them the pain was strictly from the gas. I couldn't even feel where they had cut me open. No pain from the birth either (she was only 4 pounds, 13 1/2 ounces). Pain meds, anti gas, iron, stool softener. Around the clock. Nothing was helping.
Apparently when you are cut open and closed up, it's kind of like trying to get all the air out of a zip lock bag when you seal it: virtually impossible. My body needed to pass the gas out to get relief, and it wasn't happening Thursday, just when I was sure they would let me go home, the doctor told me I couldn't because I hadn't passed gas. Seriously? To be quite blunt, I needed to shatter the windows and it just wasn't happening. No bowel movement either. It ended up being a good thing I didn't go home that day because it was my worst day.
The pain got so bad that I had to have my husband hit the call button because I couldn't even reach for it. I could hardly breathe I was crying, screaming, and stiff as a board when they tried to move me. Everything hurt to the touch. Two very patient, very understanding nurses came in with the doctor. They gave me (what would be my second) enema in hopes of getting something moving. Now, there was a funny in there. Not so much at the time, but later my husband and I couldn't help but laugh. So here I am, in all my glory having both nurses hoist me in to the bathroom. They are going to do the enema there. So the one nurse puts everything in one of those lovely puke buckets, and sets it on the shelf above the commode. The blasted thing fell off the shelf and hit me in the head. Really? Insult to injury much?? They took me back to the bed, give me the stupid, non working, violating all things that could be violated, and proceed to give me some really, really potent pain killer through my iv. Next thing I know they toss me in the shower with the hottest water possible trying to get me to relax and have dear hubby babysit me. Poor thing, he didn't know what to do with me. I didn't know what to do with me. I just prayed. I thanked God for giving me a second chance at life and begged for his help. Help me through this. Help me understand why it was happening to me. At that moment I told God I was thankful to be alive, that I didn't want to die yet, that I wasn't ready. I also told him the pain was so bad that even though I didn't want to die, I did want to. It was an awful feeling, physically and emotionally.
I took several more really hot showers that day and night, trying to relax my body. I walked the whole hospital, and that wasn't easy. Walking was supposed to help get the gas moving, and in the end, it's exactly what worked. Believe me, I tried every suggestion that came my way. One nurse, my "Grey's Anatomy" nurse as I like to call her, (her uniform had it on the pocket tag) told me to get on all fours and put my butt up in the air. Gas travels up so it should work. Bless her, she was the only one of my nurses that actually wasn't a mama yet and had never been through what I was going through. Did I try it? Absolutely. The only thing it released was some of my husband's tension. He got out of the shower and walked in to the room seeing me on all fours on the bed and burst into laughter. I'm sure I was a sight.
Finally by Friday I was fit to be tied. I wanted to go home. You know how they say if there is a set of twin babies and one is sick, put the other with her in the same bed and watch them start getting better? That's the way I felt about going home. My babies at home needed me and I needed them. I needed to be able to bond with C-Bug too. It was so hard in the hospital with all the iv's and cords hooked up to me. I felt so restricted. My doctor approved for me to go home, but she was more than willing to have me stay another night. She also told me she was on call all weekend so if anything got as bad as the day before, to come right back to her. That made me feel so much better.
Going over the discharge information, I gained some interesting knowledge. Actually I already knew it but in all my distress it never crossed my mind. Pain medicine will actually constipate you. Why had I been taking it around the clock when it wasn't doing any good anyway??
The week had been full of doctors, nurses, and nursing students. Those students learned a lot from my case I'm sure. By that day though, my sarcasm was sneaking back in and I had fun giving them a hard time. I knew how to work have that machinery better than they did as long as I had been there!! I finally told my doctor that the smart ass in me was coming back and I was sick of crying, it's time to go! I love that doctor, she just laughed with me.
Homeward bound to surprise the other two when they get out of school!
More on the recovery in posts to follow.
Amy
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