I was a Bitch!

Arriving home was the beginning of recovery for me.  Bending to get in and out of the car was difficult so I was not looking forward to moving much at all.

The kids were so happy to see me and so great to welcome me home.  I could see the relief in their faces that I was home and doing well.

I quickly realized that the bed would not be an option. I could not get in or out on my own.  My abs had five incisions and there was no way sit ups out of the bed were going to happen.  My husband has this wonderful "papa bear" chair in our room; so that is where I lived for a good five days.

I slowly learned that I quickly was becoming a bitch.  I would ask for tea and then complain that it was not made in the perfect way.  I would ask for something and complain that it took to long.  I was, for sure, getting tired of asking for help.  I was sitting in the "papa bear" chair and dropped my phone. I decided I could handle this myself.  Remember, I can't bend.  So, I slide down the chair (gosh I hope you are picturing this) and onto the floor.  I was so proud that I did it all by myself.  Then I realized I was stuck on the floor.  If I can't get out of bed, do you think I can get off the floor? Big fat NO! Lucky for me I have my phone in my hand now.  I call my oldest son, who is down the hall.  He immediately comes to my room.  Imagine me, in my PJ's, with a sad face - sitting on the floor when he walked in.  He smiled and said "I know there must be a story here Mom".  I was grateful for him making me laugh and help me back into my chair with no more questions.

I anticipated pain, however I thought it would be from the actual surgical cuts.  The worst, unbearable pain was actually from the air the put in your stomach during surgery and the gas it causes your body. It was something I have never felt in my life.  I am not sure they could of prepared me for pain like this.  I venture to say that it was worse than any pain I ever had giving birth, all three times.

By the end of most days I was beating up, sad and even low.  I considered myself to be strong and tough - I was not feeling that at all.  I felt weak, wimpy and overwhelmingly sad.  After being a total bitch to my husband, feeling sorry for myself, I finally had a good cry and got my thoughts on the right road.  I was also able to adjust my attitude; this helped everything.

Our Hospital Time

Opening my eyes felt odd.  What was more odd was feeling my body moving as I slowly opened my eyes.  I heard my husbands voice and immediately was put at ease.  The situation became more and more clear.  Why was I barely waking now?  Wasn't I suppose to spend time in recovery before I was taken to my room?

As I was settled into my room I looked to my husband and he had a 100% comfortable look in his face.  This, to me, meant everything went fine.  At this point, that was enough for me to relax and take in all that was going on around me.

I began to take inventory of my body.  What was I feeling?  Was there any pain?  I did not feel any pain.  I had slight discomfort in my stomach area and wanted to sleep, however all in all I was feeling OK.  There were nursing taking my vitals, my husband fixing my pillows and blankets and I could hear machines near my head.  I doubt I was awake long.

Every time I opened my eyes my husband was sitting right next to my bed.  I remember a nurse coming in pretty much every time I would fall asleep; or that is what it seemed like.  There was a time when someone explained what I had to do to go home.  I had to use the restroom, use the blowing machine and eat their specified amount of ounces.

The most memorable moment was the first time I had to get out of bed to use the restroom.  Of course, my husband was there to help me, but that is the first time I had pain that I thought "Oh shit, who decided to do this"?

The next two days were long; but we met some amazing people working for the hospital.  At one point there were checking my wounds and playing zumba music for me.  There were lots of laughs, smiles and just overwhelming support.

Don't get me wrong...this was not the easiest couple of days, but it was certainly the best hospital experience I could of imagined considering the circumstances.  I was ready to go home; worried at the same time about recovering on my own at home.  I was going to need to lean on people and ask for help; neither being things I am good at.  Lucky for me I have loved ones that know that and step up without even being asked.

Wish me luck at home...

 

Day of Surgery

The morning of surgery I woke with many mixed feelings.  I was nervous, anxious, excited, scared and ready all in one.  My husband and I had prepared prior, so all I had to do was wake up and go.  While I was getting dressed I began to second guess what I was doing, if I should do it and why I was doing it.  The answers came to me pretty easily:

• I was doing what was needed to give me a jump start on living a healthier life
• I had tried everything else and hit a wall; it was time for a little help
• I want to live and teach my children how to do it the right way

The drive to the hospital was long.  Thank goodness my husband was driving because my mind was racing and my heart was pounding.  I could not find that hospital even now because I have no recollection of the drive.

I remember walking into the hospital, signing in and waiting for my name to be called to register with the hospital.  We sat across from an elevator and passed the time people watching; something we both like to do.  At this point I was no longer questioning anything, however I was incredibly nervous.  Then it was our turn to register with the hospital.  I believe there was some type of issue, but truly can't remember what it was.  I know that it was handled, I paid and then a nurse came to get me and take me back to prepare for surgery.  Yes, it happened that quickly.

My husband was allowed to stay with me until they actually took me into surgery.  I found that very helpful.  He is my source of calm.  The male nurse that was helping us was hilarious, fighting with the other female nurse like an old married couple.  I became so comfortable that I did not have the anxiety, just the nerves.  If you have had anxiety, you know the difference. 

After all the questions, changing of clothes and such there was some down time.  I just got to lay there, holding my husbands hand and being as relaxed as you can be in this situation.  The next thing I knew the anesthesiologist came in.  He asked a few questions and I told him to make sure I did not wake up anytime during the procedure.  He told me "I am going to make you a cocktail to relax you".

Then I woke up and was being rolled into my after surgery room where my husband was waiting.

Picture before driving to the hospital for surgery.