“I survived!” Was the message I sent to a few of my colleagues and boss, when providing my post-surgery update. But little do they know the pain and suffering I have yet to overcome.
The surgery was a quick procedure. I remember lying on the operating table with nurses, anesthesiologist, videographer and surgeon walking around in the room. My doctor aka the surgeon came by to comfort me and update me with what was going to happen. Next the nurse was introducing herself and making sure I was comfortable. The videographer came by and said he’d be the one working his magic so my surgeon had full eyes on the inside of my stomach. I jokingly asked if I could get a copy of the tape and he laughed and said “we don’t save the evidence.”
Finally, the anesthesiologist came over, this was the guy that was going to make sure I didn’t feel a thing. He asked me if I was comfortable, if I was ready and after nodding yes, he said I’m going to give you a cocktail, “yum!” I thought. Those were the last words spoken to me, or so I remember.
I woke up a quick hour and a half later, groggy and in a lot of discomfort, surrounded by D, my mom and a nurse who looked amused to see me open my eyes. I never did ask her name, but then again, I was drugged to the extreme and didn’t think it was important at the time. But she was very friendly and pleasant, always ready to help me whenever I woke up and asked for something. She kept me in the recovery room for quote sometime. When it was finally time to go home, she wished me well and assisted with getting me changed and into the wheelchair.
The drive home was painful; every turn and bump had me grabbing at my stomach. Finally upstairs and in bed, I quickly passed out without a care in the world. Recovery since then has been slow and steady. I’ve removed the dressing over my four incisions and have even managed to take a shower. My stomach feels like it’s constantly turning and stretching. I feel terribly nauseous all the time and gas doesn’t seem to want to pass. I’m also very constipated (as if you needed to know the status of my bowel movements).
But with every day that passes, I feel a little better. See! I’m even able to write a whole post without passing out or vomiting. My mom has kept Ni with her since the surgery; which has been very helpful and my darling D has been by my side the whole time. I think he’s getting sick of me now, though. I feel very needy these days, but he hasn’t complained yet. And the messages and emails are coming in at a steady pace wishing me well and a speeding recovery; which is good to see.
So I’m getting there. Slowly but surely. I’ll be back to my normal self in no time. But for now, I feel my pain medicine kicking in and eyes getting drowsy. Off to bed I go.
Xoxo ~ Tamana