After hysterectomy

I begin to remember some events from the hospital, from under the cloud of mind altering substances.
- Time was slipping by.
- Some people came to see me. I guess I said I was ok. Ok all the time.
- Bumped into two doctors I know in the corridor. I was still under influence and can't remember what I said in response to unsaid questions of "how are you" and "what an earth happened to you".
- Friend of mine brought me flowers and chocolate. I don't remember a word I said to her. 
I hope I said "thank you" at least.
- In the following morning I was asked to sit down on the chair next to my bed. I was in no mood for debate, and said NO. This was infuriating. Not with Foley catheter and that damn pack still in place. Nurse with good intentions and negotiation skills disappeared into thin air. I think I took another dose of MSO4 wishing to sleep.
- Injection of Enoxaparin: by now lesson had been learned and no one engaged into deeper conversation with me. Injection was destined to land in my thigh, not anywhere near abdomen. Because I said so.
- Pain management nurse and her entourage appeared from nowhere later in the morning. A member of entourage asked me what book I was reading, what language was it. Icelandic dude.
- The very best moment was when I went home. I can't remember how I got in to my friend's car (walked, yes, I think I did) and how we got back to my house, but we made it in one piece.

Piece of cake, I think now, because time has passed and memories fade. It was not easy, fun, comfortable. It was bearable, because of painkillers. They kept coming, I did not have to ask. Two days in hospital was not bad, and I spent the first day laying in bed anyway in various states of consciousness. Not something I want to repeat any time soon. Life as patient in hospital is not life. It's a miserable existence

Hysterectomy survival guide

When I first heard I'd have to undergo vaginal hysterectomy, I thought OMG, run away as fast as you can. But it was either that or keep suffering. Fibroids and heavy bleeds never let my anemia heal, and on top of all I was also diagnosed to have uterine prolapse (yea, where did that come from...?). We tried hormonal IUCD, which may have controlled the bleeds, we'll never know, because the IUCD was floating in the toilet bowl one morning. I'm glad I did not flush as I'd have normally done. So I fished it out, packed in plastic bag and showed it to ob-gyn next time. His facial expression was priceless. That's when I knew I'd have my hysterectomy. Previous radioactive iodine treatments messed up my periods and fibroids only added onto that. It was quite a remarkable, but annoying situation.
Days leading to the hysterectomy were very hard for me. I spent two weeks traveling prior to the surgery, in hindsight this was one of the best things I could have done so the surgery did not consume all my thoughts all day long. It still did. One moment I was happy, next moment crying and feeling desperate and convinced I would not survive.. I am known to search for all sorts of information in the internet and this time I did exactly the same. Some information in reasonable amounts is good, too much is just too much and can do more harm than good. My mind is specialized in creating scenarios of horror and pain of Lovenox injections, various kinds of catheters, packs, needles etc. That's why I should be stopped,  but no one can. It took every ounce of my strength to calm myself down and trust that I would be ok.

It was only when I left for the hospital on the day of surgery, when I felt calm, reasonably calm at least and I thought things will now happen the way they are meant to happen, it is inevitable. I asked for sedation prior to going to operating room and I was given some, so I can't remember a lot what went on after that. I remember I was talking to the anesthetist and was suddenly covered up in sweat and felt dizzy. I don't know if she noticed. When I woke up, I was not in agony, not in an awful lot of pain and patient controlled analgesia was provided. Sweet Morphine. It took the pain away, but gave a very generous overall itching sensation and then I had to have Benadryl for that. Pain was never really an issue, neither was Foley catheter or vaginal pack. I was told to get out of the bed, but with the packing and Foley still in place I said "No bloody way" and waited until pack was out. It was really just a weird sensation, when the Foley and the pack were removed, it did not hurt. I wasn't constantly aware that those two foreign bodies were inside either. Much better of course when they were out. Had I thought more about foreign bodies and persona non grata, I would have been reminded of someone...

"May I enter?" The person did not wait for an answer, just barged in. I closed my eyes tightly and pretended I was asleep. Wrapped myself in a blanket too.  No permission granted anyway, so please leave. Out! Success! She left.
Next time the same person tried and succeeded in entering the room with a group of people, but once again I pretended to be asleep and refrained from making nasty comments about hospital breakfast (eggs!).  Third time came and I was not so lucky. I heard the foot steps and by then it was too late. She was next to me asking how I feel, if I am ok, if I am painfree etc and blaah blaah blaah etc. I couldn't even pretend I was pleased to see her and gave some answers in monosyllables. I was standing in the middle of the corridor talking to someone else, so yes of course that was the perfect place for ambush and interruption of conversation with the other person. I think the person realized she would not get that usual welcome with banners and open arms and all, so she left. But not before giving us all knowing opinion that I would still be in hospital for "several" days.
Hahaaaa and did I enjoy proving her wrong. I was gone the next day. What a joy. I was also told she was going to arrange a "private room" for me. Dude, no thanks, I am happy to stay where I am. Sharing a hospital room is perfectly fine. Besides what became of her attempts. Nothing. Nil. Nada. Zero. No one came and asked me to move into a "private room". What a ....

I am at home now, not really sure if this is the way I should be feeling. Quite comfortable. Not a lot of bleeding. No pain. Just wondering if I can comply with post-op instructions, which I can barely remember, because of anesthesia effects still lingering around in my brain. No driving for 6 weeks? No riding for 6 weeks? No sex for 6 weeks? No cleaning of house for 6 weeks? No carrying heavy shopping for 6 weeks? No, I was not told of all this, but a research minded person can always find a way. I particularly like the fact that no heavy household work is allowed. I also like the fact that I will need to take some time off work too. I don't like the fact that I can't drive. But I can walk. Walking is good for you kemosabe.

Shadow world

Have you ever wondered how it really feels like to fall asleep.. those precious seconds just before one falls asleep? How does it really feel? Light as feathers, like a warm slow wind on your skin, kind of standing on a bridge?
What if you don't feel like sleeping? You feel tired, but something keeps pulling you back from the border of sleep and the state of awareness?
Inducing sleep: in general anesthesia. "Sweet dreams", someone above you says. You see the mask approaching, the mask is pressed on you face and oxygen begins to flow. You try not to inhale, but finally succumb. Something white enters your vein, feels hot, but the same time comforting. You sleep. Next time you wake up, it is all over.

I was asleep. Laparoscopic (=keyhole) Cholecystectomy to remove a gallbladder and it's contents i.e. stones. Gallbladder gone, incredible upper abdominal pain gone, just tiny wounds left on the abdomen. In my earlier post "24 hours" I did actually suffer from chest pain, or so I thought- it was so convincing. But then three days later, the pain was too much, could simply not be controlled at home. Two nights at work, I kept on thinking I have indigestion and suffered in silence. Boyfriend was concerned and just wanted me up and smiling and being happy again. Six days in hospital, and the damage has been fixed. Physical body, yes, but what about the other bodies and minds? Recovery takes time.

By all means study and learn more about gallstones, people experience dfferent types of symptoms. Some never need any treatment. Some do, and antibiotics and painkillers and modifying the diet can be all that's needed. But don't let it get that far that you are in hospital bed begging for Morphine to take away the pain. I can honestly say it was one of the worst kind of pain I have ever had- and now that my gallbladder has gone, I won't have the same pain. Now experimenting with the diet will begin and some things may work, some don't and then I'll simply try to avoid those foods that don't agree with my body.. That phase has already began. Chocolate does not work, nor do excess doses of rye bread.

But sleep.. Sleeping has been uncomfortable. Hospital bed resembles torture device and killed my back. I am slowly stretching my back into its normal shape. Abdominal wounds still cause some tightness and funny tingling and don't allow me to sleep the way I normally do. I wake up covered in sweat. Is this still the part of my body getting rid of antibiotics and other not so friendly substances I was given in hospital?
Sleep.. is it a resting phase or do we actually practice dying while we sleep? Part of the post-operative recovery process at home it occurred to me I could have died. But then I could have died when I drove my car last week. Or something, somewhere, some place else. Death. It came as a shock, realization that I could have stayed asleep, never waking up. Dying so far from home. Would anyone remember me? How does it feel, is it just like falling asleep? And where do we go..? What if we become ghosts in the world between this one and next one? The world of shadows? Is death dark and scary?
Those people, who have already passed on; our family members, relatives, friends- will we meet them? There are my grandparents, aunt, Nora the dog.. so many.. Will we meet again? Life is not for an eternity, not here- but the life after this? Will we live?

I am feeling better, no longer having these thoughts, not that much. Every moment counts. Every moment is precious and there is still some time left. This moment, this second, this minute. Every text message I send to my boyfriend, it all counts. Every beautiful ray of the sun. Every bite of a delicious pancake. Smell of freshly mowed grass. Smile of a stranger. My giant horse trying to get a cuddle. Raindrop on my skin. Kindness in the world. Beautiful painting. Delicious risotto.Smell of a rainforest. Softness of velvet.

Prayer works. I talk to God more and more, give thanks every day. Amen.