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.

Oh God... I am SO freaking out. Countdown is on - I'm sitting at 5. Five more days with my inner lady bits, and that's it. I did get my pre-op fancy schmancy bracelet yesterday because I gave my pre-op blood samples (three freaking tubes worth! Holy jeepers!). While I was getting the blood drawn, I noticed on my paperwork said "Total Vaginal Hysterectomy with Oophorectomy" Uhhhhh..... WHAT???? NO!!! That's not what I'm having! An oophorectomy is the removal of ovaries. Those are the only things we're supposed to leave behind! I'm supposed to have a Bilateral Salpingectomy as well as the TVH. (Removal of the fallopian tubes) So I called my gyn's office and just reconfirmed with them. It does *indeed* say on my official paperwork that I'm having a TVH with a Bilateral Salpingetomy. I don't know who screwed up at the PreAssessment Clinic, but the oophers are going NOWHERE. I have no desire to get plunged into medical menopause. That would heartily suck ass. (An oophorectomy is the lady equivalent to a castration for a guy, so you see why I'm so concerned.) Other than that, I'm so fucking nervous. This week is dragging like crazy, and I feel that time is like quicksand. The faster I try to get stuff done, the less progress I make. I have a very definite list of things I need to accomplish, and the only thing I CAN do is feel completely overwhelmed. I waver between peace and even happiness to despair, doubt, and crushing anxiety. Working out has helped. Pushing myself HARD physically helps to deal (albeit temporarily) with the anxiety and panic. But at the end of the workout, no matter how shaky and weak I feel, no matter how much sweat I'm dripping, no matter how high my heart rate gets - the coiled ball of anxiety is still within the center of my being. Like a snake. It gets diminished with hard physical exertion, but it's still there. I keep on reminding myself that I'm SIX days away from recovering, and that does help. But oh - I'm so nervous. I sure hope I can get everything done.

Nineteen and Oh How I'm Aching!

The countdown has begun. It's now nineteen days until I have my hysterectomy. Gotta say... I'm starting to freak a little bit. I've also started working out at a gym. Oh my ever loving Lord... I had NO IDEA I had some of these muscles!! My arse hurts, my thighs hurt, my sides hurt and my triceps ache. But apparently that's a *good thing*. I just sigh, roll my eyes and try to go to the gym 5 days a week. (The gym is closed on Sundays, and is only open for 4 hours on Saturday, so I take the weekend as a rest time.) But I can notice that I'm getting stronger already. My posture is better and my abs are starting to awaken after a long hibernation of 13 years. (They hurt too) Other than that, I'm starting to wrap up stuff at work, which is a good feeling. I only have 1 final week of Storytime left and then the 2012/2013 year is OVER!!! Yippee!!! I do have 2013/2014 planned out already. I do need to tweak it and gather crafts, but that's relatively minor. I don't need to worry about that. I am planning on weeding as much as I can before I leave. It would be cool to finish weeding the section I'm on right now, but that's not going to happen. It takes me a long time to weed because I can only do it for 90 minutes a week. I know it's progress, but it's slow progress. So a few things remain before the yank date - specialist appointment, get stronger at the gym, finish up work. Should I prepare some meals ahead of time? One thing that occurred to me was that my period that I had in May could very well possibly be my VERY LAST MENSTRUAL PERIOD EVER. Boy, that's exciting. I've had my period since I was 11 years and 2 months old. It's kinda all I know. Living life around my period has been so deeply ingrained into me, I'm kind of dizzy with the potential freedom I could have. No more cancelling swimming because my period is too heavy. No more forgoing a bath because I'll leak. No more fear about going hiking during that time of the month. No more carrying feminine products in my purse. No more ruining underwear! No more turning Hubby down because "I'm spotting" or "I'm on my period". This could potentially mean more sex. Yippee!!! I do have to take a break from the gym while I heal, but we'll take it as it comes.

1 month until...

The countdown is ON!!! One month until I get my uterus yanked. [Or in HysterSister terms: 1 month until I go to the Castle (hospital) and become a Princess (I don't understand it either)] I'm not going to lie - I'm a little nervous. I think it's the factor of the ambiguous unknown quotient. I've never had major surgery before, so this is all brand-spanking-new to me. And staying overnight in a hospital makes my anxiety climb to unreasonable heights. I should probably talk to my therapist about that. But I am excited too. To not be ruled by my uterus anymore? That'll be awesome. (Especially seeing as my period is currently 7 days late, this is a very timely feeling) But in this last month of having my girly bits, I need to get SO MUCH DONE! List Of Shit I Need To Get Done (by Cindy) - clean and declutter house - clean out garage - tidy up van - finish up my last few weeks of Storytime - start figuring out meals for when I'm down and out (or else I'm going to be having a LOT of food made for me by my kids) - Lose a good 75 pounds. Okay, that last one is probably not so achievable in a month's time. I can increase my core strength though... So I'm drinking the Kool-aid and I'm signing up for a membership at Curves. I might have to figure out how to wedge an earbud into my pierced ear (I have some cartilage piercings) so I don't have to listen to that horrible music. Maybe an elastic headband? Or Over-the-ears headphones? I dunno. I'll have to play around with it. I also need to add "Get my nails done before I go into the Hospital" to that list, and an eyebrow wax wouldn't be amiss either, I'm sure. Should I wax my lady garden? I swear, hospitals should offer that service while you're completely numb/knocked out so you don't have to have a horrible first experience with waxing. Listen up, Alberta Health Care.... You could make a MINT by combining medical procedures with spa procedures!! C Section and a pedicure/bikini wax. Hip replacement and a pubic sculpting. Cardiac surgery and permanent eyebrow pencil tattooing. Organ transplant and anal bleaching. You're welcome. Oh society, you're so welcome.

Hysterectomy

I am having a hysterectomy. There. I said it. Out loud. Holy jeeze, they are REMOVING AN ORGAN!!! *breathes into paper bag* So I should probably give you some background, just to set the scene. I've been seeing a gynaecologist since last fall because the older I get, the heavier and more painful my period has become. And seeing how my mother only went through menopause at the age of 59, that means I have potentially 24 more years of menstruating ahead of me. Ugh. Shoot me now. So I talked to my regular doctor, and we tried heavy duty Naproxen, and while it made me feel floaty and happily stoned, it didn't do ANYTHING to lessen my flow. And then we discovered that I was dangerously anemic from the monthly blood loss. I started taking mega iron pills. :P My family doctor was pushing the Mirena hormonal IUD on me ("You're done having kids, why not?" "IUDs are tolerated by everyone!!") even though I stated that I had tried an IUD and it was the worst thing I had ever done. Gynecologist was AMAZING. She was awesome and spent a WHOLE HOUR with me, listening to my concerns and what was going on with my innards. She suggested a hysterectomy right then and there, but I declined as I felt it was too big of a step to leap into. I wanted to ascend the Ladder of Intervention from least invasive to most invasive. We tried Cyclokapron to disastrous effects. I had a uterine ultrasound, and everything seemed fine. We tried Super Strength Naproxen. Nope. We tried the Mirena IUD. I ended up with a 96 consecutive day migraine, vertigo, zits and I bled all the time. So we took it out and I hemorrhaged for the next 10 straight days. (Like almost needed a blood transfusion. It was scary.) So, I decided to pull the trigger (so to speak), and to end my misery. I am having a hysterectomy. Yes, I'm scared. It's an organ that they're removing. (I think giddily sometimes of offering it to women who need help - To Give Away - 1 gently used uterus. Has had 4 pregnancies, no miscarriages. Very reliable. Free to good home.) What I'm having is called a Total Vaginal Hysterectomy. Basically, they're removing my cervix, uterus, and Fallopian tubes. (New research out of Vancouver has shown a 60% decrease in ovarian cancer if the tubes are removed) They are leaving my ovaries intact so I won't be thrust into medical menopause. (Phew!) But surgery is scheduled for June 24th. I haven't told my kids yet as I don't want to worry them. Husband knows. He is supportive. I waver between elation and excitement that a pear shaped uterus is not going to rule my life anymore to complete panic. It's an OPERATION!!! Aaah! So if it's okay with you, I plan on using this as an online journal. You don't have to read... I need to write to get it all out.

Tattoo Musings...

What heights of love, what depths of peace,
when fears are stilled, when strivings cease!

Sola Scriptura
Sola Fide
Sola Gratia
Solo Christo
Soli Deo gloria


Somehow, the Five Solas are REALLY speaking to me. I found a tattoo resource online that only does literary tattoos, and my soul leapt. I love words, I adore books. It makes sense that my next tatt will be a literary one. (Even if the literary source is Luther's Reformation!)