I had a sad thing happen today. I was touring an Assisted Living facility for an extended family member today, and after we toured the facility (which is GORGEOUS, by the way), we were sitting waiting for the taxi to come pick us up. The extended family member is a wee old Scottish lady who is feisty as hell. She tells it like she sees it. Unfortunately, she has dementia. So today she says to me, "Oh dear, as much as I like you, I like what's in your belly better." Me: "What?" Her: "Your belly!" *points to my swollen abdomen* Me: "Oh, I'm not pregnant." Her: "Oh, you wee liar! Of course you are!" Me: "Nope. Not pregnant. Actually I just had a hysterectomy, so there's no possible way I will ever be pregnant again." *I turn away and try to wipe the tears out of my eyes so she won't see* You know, I've either had dreams that I'm dying or dreams that I'm having a baby, almost every single night for the last 4.5 weeks. Last night I didn't dream about either - I was lost. But I honestly felt that I was completely exposed by having to admit that I will never be pregnant again. I no longer have the ability to bring forth life. I am infertile. I am barren. I don't have any of the bits necessary to do that. I know she didn't mean to hurt me. I understand that it's a wicked combination of the dementia and lack of social filter. I understand that my belly is still swollen. (And heck... I was feeling pretty good about how little it was swollen today! I guess I was deluding myself!) But dammit, I did NOT want to have to start telling people today. I still feel emotionally fragile! Like an eggshell about to be crushed... So I'm pretty sure today was a Not So Good Day.

Jeans, Glorious Jeans!

On Saturday I was completely suffering from a bad case of cabin fever. I decided to go out solo for the first time since my surgery. (Well, by *solo* I mean with my girls) We hit up the craft store, Winners, Sobey's, Starbucks & the bank. I was hurting by Winners. :( Sobey's I was starting to shuffle, and Starbucks I did the drive through. The bank I got out of my car and I walked ever-so-carefully. I did spend the rest of the day sitting down. Golly, my innards hurt. :( I also got my jeans ON and done up. It wasn't pretty, but it happened!! Hooray! I also had a lot of pain last night as I was attempting to go to sleep. I needed my pillow to support my tummy again. So frustrating this whole healing thing. Can't I be done yet???

Conquering the grocery store!

So here it is, 8 pm on Friday. Same day as the rant that I posted earlier. The kids had fun at the Party, and as they were coming home, Hubby called and asked if I'd like to go grocery shopping with him. I said YES! So I did Costco, No Frills and Walmart. Suck on that, stupid body. I kept up with him really well too. Hopefully this means that I'll sleep well tonight! My tummy has swelled a bit and my lower abdomen is kinda sore, but I DON'T CARE!! Ha ha!! Take THAT, stupid body!!

Friday July 5 - 11 days Post-Op

Yesterday was a really bad day. I was to-the-bone exhausted (even though I hadn't done anything), dizzy, had vertigo - I was a hot mess. Ended up calling my GYN's office, and they faxed a requisition to my local Vampire lab for blood tests. Hubby rushed home from work, drove me there, and when I was done, pretty much dragged me out to the car (apparently I was getting slower and slower with each step). Happy fucking anniversary. That being said, I'm kinda waiting on a call from my doctor's office to see if I have something Diagnosable. I am so fucking sick of being so tired. I actually had a bit of a temper tantrum after Hubby and the kids left for a party (that I couldn't go to because I need to rest) - I am tired of not having my life. I stomped down the stairs and was yelling out to whatever Deity that if they didn't want me being active, they'd have to knock me the fuck out. I so meant it. I still do. Am I still dizzy? Hell yes. Am I still tired? Absofuckinglutely. Am I tired of mollycoddling my fucking body? Completely. This uterus has done nothing but fuck me over since I was 11 - it's out and it's STILL fucking me over!! ARGH!!!!! I am still dizzy and feel like my vision is narrowing with little dark bits dancing at the edges of my peripheral vision. I am so DONE with letting my body get away with fucking running the show!! I even posted a question on HysterSisters.com about extreme exhaustion after an ab hysterectomy, and they were all "ohhhh, it's *normal* - you just had emergency surgery!!". Yeah, well... Fuck that shit. I'm going to live my life. I'm tired of kowtowing to please others - most of all, my own traitorous shell of my physical self. Sorry... Just really pissed at how I'm not recuperating like how I thought I would. Called the doc's office. They have my results but the doc hasn't eyeballed them yet. If something pops out, they'll call me.

Wednesday - Day 3 in Hospital.

Wednesday June 26 Still in hospital 6 am- had my very first fart in days. 6:30 am Pass by Fiona's intern as I go to the toilet. Get back to my room and start washing my face and the hospital gyn and Fiona's intern come in. We chat, establish that I'm up & mobile, I'm peeing no problem and I'm farting. They check my incision (apparently it looks good). Drain is starting to come out on its own (which would be why it hurt so gosh darned much last night, I bet). Gyn consult & intern ask whether I want to go home or chill at the Rocky until tomorrow. I tell them that I want to go home. Just waiting on Fiona to come and give the all clear. Right now I'm a Conditional Discharge. 7:18 am Tired again. I could fall asleep right now, I swear. 7:25 Go walk to grab cold apple juice and see student nurse chippy that I had yesterday. (I rolled my eyes inside of my head) she does vitals on me, and my "breakfast" comes - vegetable broth, green jello, coffee & orange juice. I'm just tired today. Really tired. 8:10 Fiona comes, says that's she's impressed with how I'm doing. Looks at my drain and sees that its already halfway out, so she takes it all the way out. Removes all my taping as well. I get to go home! Hurray! I eat some toast & jam and a glass of orange juice. Tasty. Don't manage to eat all of it, but that's okay by me. 10 am Waiting to get the discharge chat from Sincere And Follow All The Rules student nurse. I changed into yoga pants, a tank top & a hoodie half an hour ago. It's not as comfy as my nightgown that I will be changing back into when I get home, but its not bad. Couldn't do the bra. C'mon Student Nurse girl! Get my damn IV out so I can go home! 10:27 I've seen Student Nurse peek her head in but no talk as of yet. :( I'm getting really tired and hear LOTS of gas moving all around in my tummy. While it feels good to wear yoga pants in a way, the light tension across my tummy is a but ouchie. I really want my family to show up so I can go home. Ended up FINALLY getting the pathetic Discharge Talk at 11:45 after Student Nurse takes out my IV line. Damn, those suckers hurt like a mofo. Good thing I took copious notes when Moaning Lady was discharged 2 hours previous. Student Nurse glosses over the majority of what she told Moaning Lady. Go home. Most painful car ride of my entire life. Why are Calgary roads so damned bumpy?? Stumble into my home, scare my dog, go upstairs and fall gratefully into my own glorious, lovely bed. Ohhhhhh, I love home.

Day After Surgery - WARNING! Uncensored!

Coughing. What a lovely way to wake up - Not. Got a whole 3 hours of broken sleep last night - from 1:30-3:30 when I was awoken by a dude who was waking around & the nurses were asking him where he was going at 3:30 am. Fell back asleep at 4 and slept until 5. Got up 4-5 times to pee since midnight. Filled the toilet hat twice with 2 pees each. Took more morphine than I thought I would last night. After my night nurse, Tracy, came on, she was looking at my belly and made me cry with the pain. No sorry or anything. I took 2 hits after that. :( I'm hoping to get up & walk today and get these damn leg compression things off. And I need a sleeping pill for tonight. 7:36 Breakfast is served. Ended up with a student nurse who asked all sorts of asinine questions. I was snarly to start, then "breakfast" was served. Fucking jello, fucking vegetable broth, an apple juice and a fucking coffee that I can't drink. What's the fucking point of bringing me a tray if you're going to put non-food on it? Fuck... So I'm sucking back my apple juice cursing them all out inside my head. On the outside, I'm pleasant and charming, but on the inside I'm a rage filled snarling wild animal. I should probably have some morphine. I wonder if its normal to not feel pain per se, but to be annoyed, short tempered and irritated. 8 am Vampire from the lab just came to get more blood. No fucking idea why. I've come to the realization that I fucking hate people. Everyone who touches me either hurts me or ends up imposing their will upon me. I'm fucking sick of it. I'm weepy as fuck which is annoying the shit out of me. I'm just so MAD. I don't remember the last time I was this angry. 8:35 am Fiona came by and talked to me. I burst into tears (so fucking weepy it's driving me nuts!) while talking to her. I told her I want to stab everyone I see and she smiled and took a step back. We agreed that the morphine probably isn't cutting it for pain and she's ordered me T3's and Percocets. She also ordered me a sleeping pill for at night so I can sleep longer than 3 hours hopefully. Halle-fricking-lujah. I just want to go home, eat real food & sleep. 9 am: They removed my morphine pump and while they had a saline block on my IV stump, I took the opportunity to go find an honest-to-God bathroom with a door. My nurse said "oh just use the one by your bed." Me: " No. Absolutely not. Doors are essential." I found a REAL bathroom just down the hall. I plan on using that during the day. 10:30 Student nurse chippy comes and says for me to get up as it will help get my bowels moving. Snarky nurse chick comes and asks snarkily if I'm going to have a wash today. I tell her I already did at 5 am. She shuts up. I go for a walk on the ward, find an honest to God toilet and revel in its doorly glory as I pee. I hit up the kitchenette on my way back & nab water, cranberry juice, cheerios and soda crackers. The Cheerios are yummy and I'm eating them slowly. 11:22 lunch is served - beef broth, lime jello, apple juice and shitty black tea. I'm planning on skipping the tea. Family showed up at noonish to visit and they stayed 40 minutes or so as my Percocet took effect. Love Percocet. They left, I went to the loo and then tried to have a nap. Nope. People kept on talking loudly, walking around. I would almost be asleep and then I'd get woken up. So frustrated! But I had a rest so that was good. Hopefully I'll get a sleeping pill tonight that will knock me out. So now it's 2:16 pm and this is the longest day of my life, I swear. Had another Percocet at 4 pm and got jittery, itchy, and jumpy. At about 4:30, dinner came (chicken broth, tea, cherry jello and orange juice). I had the broth and I plunked in a peppermint tea bag into the water. Beautiful. About 45 minutes later, the teas gone down so well, I go make another. Halfway thru that cup I get horribly nauseated. Nurse finally comes in and gives me Gravol which, thankfully, knocks me out asleep. An hour or so after I fall asleep, nurse wakes me up to take stupid ibuprophen. I was so upset I could've cried. So then I enquire about my sleeping pill and she's like " Are you sure you need it, dear?" Me: YES. So she rustled up my 1 mg Ativan tablet. I swallowed it at 9:45 pm and drifted off to sleep. I slept until 2:30 am, got up , went for a walk & had a pee & got my drain emptied then FELL BACK ASLEEP until 5:45 am. Seriously - best nights sleep I've had in ages AND I've just had my first fart - yay me!

Surgery Day Cometh!

Packed my bag on the Sunday before my surgery date on the Monday. I'm not going to lie to you - I had a couple of panic attacks. It was rough. Due to my high stress level, I only slept for 3.5 hours from Sunday night to Monday morning at 4:30 when I had to get up to get ready to go to the hospital. So, get up, finalize everything, shower, do my hair, and be at the hospital for 6 am. Sounds easy, right? Sure. Especially with all the flooding that the Calgary region had experienced. We totally circumvented the flood zones and went a different way. I'm sure it took us a few minutes longer, but it was better for my peace of mind. Admissions desk opened up at 6 am, and I had to wait to get checked in, then I had to go get a pregnancy test done (Hubby and I laughed that it would be positive - it wasn't), and then it was time to get nekkid and into the horrible hospital gown. I was on the cusp of a panic attack all morning, I swear. After I got changed, and was vetted in the pre-op, I was driven to the OR section by a porter, but the kicker was that I couldn't wear my glasses, so I couldn't see a thing. Like NOTHING. It was distressing not to even be able to see my medical team. So in the hallway outside my OR, I met my team. My gynaecologist, her student, the hospital gynaecologist, the hospital anaesthetist (who I remember being a very tall woman), and then there were some more people in the OR when I got in there. Not being able to see, I have no idea who they were or even if they were human. I remember getting transferred on to the bed, and telling the anesthetist that I was REALLY nervous (I'm pretty sure I told everyone that, from the admissions clerk, to the blood tech, to the IV putter-inner-guy who had to attempt 3 times to get an IV in my arm). They asked me to put my arse just before a hole in the bed, and I told them I'd try. Then they asked me if I was from Eastern Canada because I said "arse". I said that I was a fourth generation Calgarian, but that we lived in the UK for a time. They all went "aaaahhh". I remember the hospital gynaecologist putting these leg stirrups on the bed, and I must've shot her a DIRTY look because she said "Oh, they're just leg rests". I think I told her that I didn't believe her. The anesthethetist told me to breathe from a mask, and I said "No way. I know what you're going to do", and she said, "It's just oxygen, silly!" and then plopped it over my face but made it so that some of the air was flowing into my eyes. I hate that feeling, so I shut my eyes. I did open them back up again once briefly, and that was it. I must've been out. The next thing I knew, I was having a great sleep and someone was yelling at me to breathe and to pee. Now there was NO WAY you were going to make me pee the bed, so there was no way I was going to pee the bed. I would hold it until I got to a toilet, thankyouverymuch. I was really enjoying how peaceful I was. I wasn't having to breathe a ton - I felt really peaceful. The damn kill-joy nurse kept on yelling at me to breathe, that I had to breathe. I remember thinking that breathing was stupid and a waste of time and how by breathing less it made my pain more manageable. I remember my nurse asking if I was breathing less because of the pain, and I said yes. (Or I grunted... whatever)I'm pretty sure they gave me more morphine at that point. I do remember hearing that they had given me 6 mg of morphine in the OR and another 6 mg in the recovery room, and that's probably why I wasn't breathing more than 8 times a minute. I also remember them being concerned because my blood pressure was really high, and they yelled at me to pee, to which I said no. (Ever accommodating!) Finally the nurse said "There's a catheter in - pee!!" rather sternly, and she repeated it enough that I started to think that *maybe* it was a good idea to pee now. I had to really work at figuring out how the hell to urinate, and the nurse just kept on saying for me to push and pee, so I did. My blood pressure went down. I went back to sleep, because I was TIRED! I remember my gynaecologist coming in to see me, and she said that things went sideways in the OR, but that I was okay, that I wouldn't remember her coming (which I TOTALLY DID), I wouldn't remember what she was saying to me (HAH! I'LL SHOW YOU!) and that she'd come see me up in my room. Then I remember almost barfing, getting a useless little piece of gauze that smelled of peppermint oil, then getting a drug to help. I remember falling asleep again and the damn nurse waking me up again. Then I was transferred up to Unit 84 into room 8402 and I remember my Hubby having to leave the room and he was looking Very Serious. I had to change beds (that was No Fun) they did some more stuff while I tried to fall back asleep. Then Hubby was there, holding my hand while I tried to keep my eyes open.