things are looking up!

Well, I had my surgery on Tuesday and now (Saturday) I'm starting to feel almost human again. Here's the full story....

I tried to stay up late on Monday night (which wasn't too hard since I was so anxious) in the hopes that I would then be able to sleep in a little bit on Tuesday morning. Alas, I still woke up at 7am. The advantage to this was that I could still have clear fluids until 8am, so I had a glass of water as I tried to convince myself I wasn't hungry. I scoured my belly with Dial antibacterial soap, as directed, then sat around waiting until we could leave for the hospital. We were supposed to check in at 10:20am, but we left extra time in case traffic was bad and ended up checking in at about 10. This meant that we got to watch an entire episode of The Price is Right (I'm not a fan of that show!) as we waited for them to call me back. Finally, a little after 11, I got called back to get ready for surgery, which was still scheduled for 12:30.

After a quick pee in a cup to ensure I wasn't pregnant, I got to put on their fancy hospital gown. It really was fancy! It had a bunch of air portals, and rather than give me blankets they attached a hose to one of the air portals and let me control how much hot air I wanted blowing into my gown. Pretty cool. Then the nurse asked all sorts of questions about my medical history and the reason I was coming in for surgery. (My favorite was when she asked me to describe, in my own words, what procedure(s) I was having done that day. "Laparascopy and hysteroscopy," I responded. To which she exclaimed, "You even know the big words!") About an hour later, after she checked to make sure I felt safe in my relationship and that I felt safe going home with my husband after the surgery, Mike was finally allowed back to see me in my pre-op room.

Shortly after Mike arrived, it was time to put in my IV. Apparently I have lots of valves, and this makes inserting IVs rather challenging. After the first nurse dug around in my hand for awhile, she finally gave up and called for reinforcements. Luckily the second nurse got it inserted on the first try. As Mike pointed out, I have had far more unsuccessful IV attempts than I've had successful ones. I've started warning people about this, but apparently it does no good.

So then we just waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Finally around 2:30 the surgeon came in to introduce himself. I had been warned by my regular ob/gyn that he doesn't have the best bedside manner so I was really expecting the worse - bullheaded, arrogant, obnoxious - all the negative stereotypes of a bad surgeon. But he seemed perfectly nice! We went over the procedure, and he warned me that there  was a small chance I would lose one of my ovaries, given the number of cysts he saw on the ultrasounds. That freaked me out. He told Mike that surgery would take about 2 - 2.5 hours, and we'd get going as soon as the OR was fully prepped.

So then we waited some more. Shortly after 3 the nurse anesthetist finally came to bring me back to the OR. That's when I started freaking out. I was worried that something was going to wrong in surgery, and this would have been the last time Mike would ever see me, and I was therefore saying goodbye to him forever. I kind of lost it.

But surgery waits for no one. The nurse anesthetist gave me a sedative to make me stop crying, and then we were off.

I remember getting wheeled into the OR and then transferring myself to the table. I remember someone sticking the EKG tabs on me and then an oxygen mask coming down on my face....

Mike, meanwhile, remembers freaking out because I was so upset. And then freaking out because there was a tornado warning shortly after I went in to the OR. And then freaking out because the surgery lasted over 3 hours before he got any sort of update on how I was doing...

The next thing I remember was being wheeled into post-op 1. I was fighting the anesthesia so hard, but kept falling back under. It was a terrible feeling of being unable to stay alert. A nurse kept asking about my pain, but I couldn't even focus because I kept falling back asleep. Well, not really asleep, but zoning out. It was terrible! I wish I could describe how awful it was to be fighting the oblivion over and over and over again.

The surgeon came to visit me for a few minutes. I barely remember what he said, other than that I still had both ovaries (although 1 was totally wilted and basically non-functional) and that he ended up having to reshape my uterus from the inside. Mike later filled me in on more of the details: There were only 2 (not 4) cysts on my left ovary, but also a lot of scar tissue. In addition, one of those cysts was also attached to my bowel. So the surgeon had a difficult time removing the ovaries without messing up my bowels. And by the time the cysts and the scar tissue were removed on the left, there wasn't much healthy ovarian tissue left. Things looked much better on the right, where there was only one cyst (which was easily removed) and no scar tissue. Additionally, there was also some endometriosis on my bladder which the surgeon also didn't want to risk removing. Finally, I had a minor septum in my uterus which he was able to repair. (Mike, correct me if I got any of that wrong.) Overall it seemed like he thought the surgery was a success both for hopefully optimizing my fertility and for minimizing my monthly pain.

Meanwhile, back on post-op1, somehow the nurses decided I was ready to move to post-op 2, although I have no idea what they based that decision on since I still felt just as out of it. It was one of the happiest moments of my life when they wheeled me in to the post-op 2 room and I saw Mike sitting there waiting for me! But I was still fighting to stay conscious and having a really hard time focusing.

At this point (around 7:15?) the post-op 2 nurse said that the post-op suite closes at 8:30 and if I wasn't ready to be discharged by then I would have to be admitted over night. In my bleary, drug-induced stupor, I made the decision that I was going home that night. While still repeatedly fighting the oblivion, I drank their sprite, showed them I could pee, and got dressed. At 8:25, they were wheeling me out the door. Take that! (Yes, I can be bullheaded even when it is perhaps not in my own best interest!)

Mike drove me straight home, and even with a pillow across my belly I felt every single bump of the road. He set me up in bed with my cell phone (to call him in the other room if I needed anything), some snacks, throat lozenges, and water. I had terrible cotton-mouth and my shoulders/rib cage were hurting like crazy! He forced me to eat 1 saltine and 1 fig newton since I hadn't eaten anything all day, then I was finally allowed to sleep around 9pm. But the crazy thing was that I was so used to fighting the oblivion that it was then hard to allow myself to sleep! That night I ended up sleeping in 2-hour chunks. Every 2 hours I would either wake up from pain in my shoulders/rib cage or from pain in my belly, and would be afraid to go back to sleep. So I would get up to use the bathroom and move my arms a bit. Poor Mike was up with me every time I woke up! (He's the best!) It wasn't until about 5am that I finally felt like the anesthesia was gone and I was no longer fighting the oblivion. What a relief to finally feel clear-headed again.

Wednesday and Thursday were days full of TV and naps. I watched the entire 7th season of The Office, with  naps breaks every 2 hour or so. Meanwhile, I was also trying to do everything possible to avoid using my abdominal muscles. Laughing hurt. Coughing hurt. Turning over hurt. Sitting up hurt. The only things that felt halfway decent were watching TV and taking naps. At least on Thursday the shoulder pain was gone, which was great!

Thursday I got up the nerve to take a shower so I could wash all the iodine off my abdomen and all the hospital cooties off the rest of my body. I was still a little light-headed and couldn't bend much, so Mike had to stand guard and hand me all the shampoo, etc. for my shower. Have I mentioned yet what a great nurse he is? It saddens me that some women don't feel safe going home to their husbands, whereas I have the best husband ever.

Friday I was doing a little better still, so Mike went in to work/school for a couple hours. Around 1:30 I woke up from my first afternoon nap with terrible, terrible shivers. I put on a fleece and three down blankets, and I finally felt warm about an hour later. Then about an hour after that I got horribly hot. When Mike finally got home around 3pm, the new thermometer he bought (we had loaned out our thermometer a few months ago and never got it back) showed I had a temperature of 102.4.  Well, that explains the chills and hot flashes. We called my doctor's office, then headed out to the ER.

After four hours, lots of stress, bloodwork, a UA, 2 failed IVs, and 1 CT scan, it turns out I'm fine. They ruled out infection, abscess, bowel obstruction, and a whole host of other things. Basically, the ER doctor thinks I just happened to get a viral infection and that I should keep treating it with ibuprofen.

What a week! But on the plus side I woke up with a lot more energy and alertness this morning. (I generally know when I'm on the mend once the clutter in our house starts bothering me again.) I even have a little bit of an appetite today, which is also a good sign!  I'm trying to still take it easy so I don't risk a setback, but I'm cautiously optimistic that I'm on the mend.

So, there ends my longest blog post ever. Congrats if you actually made it here to the end. I really appreciate all the thoughts and support you all have been sending my way. Please give Mike a high-5 next time you see him since he's been such a great nurse for me.

Thank you again for all your thoughts and well wishes!