For the last two and a half weeks I have been on my couch trying to recall those sun and wonderful days of paradise... and why I decided to go ahead and have surgery three days after I got home.
I had a hysterectomy three weeks ago. I'm writing about it on a different post. For now I am celebrating my release from the hell that has gone on afterward.
Looking back you always have 20/20 vision. Usually in a laparoscopic surgery they fill your abdomen with gas like a balloon so that they can maneuver the instruments and cameras around freely while they operate. I have had a handful of these type of surgeries and every time afterwards your muscles get sore from absorbing whatever gas is left over from that surgery. The doctors usually try to push it all out, but inevitably they don't get it all out. I was lucky enough to have this surgery vaginally so they didn't have to open me up. The days after my surgery I was feeling achy. I chalked it up to the surgery, thinking that they may have had to use the gas. After a visit with my Visiting Teachers, one of whom is a operating room nurse, she said that they don't use the gas during my particular procedure. It should have clicked then- but it didn't. A few more days go by, and my achiness gets worse, and things start to go downhill. I thought I was getting the flu. I was achy everywhere. I had nausea, cold sweats, dizziness. I was freezing so bad that I turned the air conditioning way down and put on sweats, wool socks and I was thisclose to getting out a winter hat. I was also bleeding heavier than I was previously. I knew that something was wrong. In the move, however, I could not find my thermometer. The hospital instructions were that I didn't need to call the doctor if my fever was below 100.4. I didn't feel that hot, but then again I thought I was freezing to death. I went and found a first aid kit that had one of those rinky dink forehead tape readers and I stuck it to my head for Jason to read. It was all lit up to the 100.6 mark. That was good enough for me. I called my doctor and he said that I should go into the ER. He said he thought I might have small infection somewhere and to not worry, but go and see what they could do.
10:30 pm we drive to the ER. Do you want to get in really fast where there are a lot of people in the lobby? Tell them you just had surgery and that you feel like crap. A few tears may have been shed in the process. The receptionist got on her pager and talked to someone saying "I've got a triage for you." They took me right back. I had a fever of 102.7*. They put in my IV right in the crook of my elbow, on the right arm (The worst place ever!) and took some blood samples. They also did a urine test. Everything came up like they thought. White blood count elevated, kidney/bladder infection negative. I was going to have to go in for a CT scan. But, before I could do this I had to drink a half gallon jug of Lemonade Crystal Light with a dye in it over the next two hours. I could only drink 1/4 of it every 30 minutes. It was disgusting. Like diet lemonade, only worse- like a metally lemonade. So, around 2:30 am I got to finally go into the CT room. The lady said she was going to inject another dye through my IV that was going to make me feel really hot, and like I'm peeing. I got to feel what it was like to have menopause hot flashes, and a toddler bed wetting episode all at once. I highly recommend it! It was awesome! They said it would be another 45 minutes for the radiologist to read the scan and talk to the doctor about it. 'Really??' I thought, 'Because at 2:30 in the morning there is a lot going on, and it sure takes a long time to look at a person's innards.'
The doctor came in rather quickly. He told me that I had a hematoma and an abscess in my newly vacant pelvis the size of my dearly departed uterus. They were going to admit me to the hospital and they would have to take me into the OR and have it drained. I could be admitted to that hospital, or go to the one where my OB/GYN was so that he would be the one to be called in to do it. We decided that we would go to the other hospital so that my own doctor could do the procedure. I actually have Dr. Nielson's after hours number on my phone, so I gave that to the ER doctor to call him and tell him what they found. And that I would be over to the other hospital in a little while.
The two doctors had talked it over, and because I was bleeding more than usual they thought my body was draining the hematoma.
For the next several days I wanted to die. I felt so horrible. Any symptoms that I had before plus all the side effects of the drugs. My favorite one? The metal taste in my mouth. Everything tasted like metal. Banana bread metal. Chocolate metal. They put me on two different drugs so potent that they are the ones that kill the giardia, and other bacteria. The pharmacist told me to take a probiotic twice a day or I would get a yeast infection or C difficile–associated diarrhea. I was taking pills every 2-3 hours. I couldn't even take care of my own children. Jason had to work, and so my mom came to get the kids and Jason's parents came and took the kids until he got off work and would bring them home.
Luckily, my body did take care of the infection on it's own. The infected hematoma drained all by itself and I wasn't going to need another surgery to take care of it. Although, I do have to say that I was worried that they were still going to have to for a whole week before my original doctor said no.
It is safe to say that I never, NEVER, want to have anything go wrong after surgery again. Because I am totally still planning on that tummy tuck!
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