Post-Uterine Musings

Whew. What a week. One week ago today, right now, I was in the airport in Atlanta and had missed my flight to Michigan because they changed gates at the last minute and we were in a totally wrong terminal. We ended up having to fly into Detroit instead of Flint. Some relatives had to pick up our luggage from Flint while other relatives had to pick us up from Detroit. Needless to say, it was a long day.

We were in Michigan for family reunion from Wednesday night until Sunday mid-morning. It was fun. It was not the same as New York, where we have reunion every year except for when we do it in Michigan every fourth year. I didn't know alot of the Michigan people. I enjoy New York much more because that is where my childhood memories lie but it was fun to see my cousin Susan, her friend Abby (who is now my cousin because I love her) and everyone else that was there. We played Rock Band all weekend (hello, yes, I am 34) and our band, The Vajayjays, rocked the house.

I ate way too much, drank way too much, but it was fun.

We flew home on Sunday and when I got home I had lots to do to get ready for my surgery on Monday. Monday morning we got up and headed to the hospital. We had to be there at 0830 and I don't know why because they were done with getting me ready by, like, 0930 and then I just sat there being bored and then getting more and more nervous.

I went to surgery at 1130. In the holding area, since my hubby works in the OR and has the inside scoop, I got some pre-op medication to make me not give a shit about anything. That was awesome. When they wheeled me into the OR I don't remember anything after them putting me on the table.

The next thing I remember I was in PACU and I was awake and felt like I needed to take the biggest dump on the face of the planet. I mean, that was all I could focus on: taking a dump. I didn't care who was in there, I didn't care who saw or heard, I needed to take a dump. Not really. I didn't. It was just the sensation of pressure in my rectum from all the speculums that were in my, um, area while they were taking the ol' uterus out.

The day was horrible. I seriously mean that. This was worse than when I had the first surgery ever for that ectopic pregnancy. This was worse. I mean it. I had terrible pain in my abdomen. The only way I can explain it is that it felt like I had to take a huge dump and it wouldn't happen. You know that feeling like you're in the car and you know you need to take a dump but there is no where to stop? That's what this felt like, only I didn't need to go. It was just a sensation of pressure and it was horrible.

They had me on a Fentanyl PCA pump and the nurse kept telling me to hit the button every ten minutes. Well, I did, but it didn't help. I kept dozing off because it was making me sleepy but when I would wake up the pain was blinding. I mean, it was horrible. My blood pressure was pretty high and I think that is the only reason they believed that I was in pain. I mean, sure, I was sleeping, but I was on narcotics....geez.

The doctor finally came to see me and she listened. She understood that I was in pain and that medication was not working. The nurse was good too. She and the doctor talked and I ended up getting some Demerol IV push and then they switched the PCA to Dilaudid. Oh, sweet heaven. Hubby said that I was passed out before the nurse could even leave the room from pushing the Demerol.

He went out for a while and brought me back a sandwich and some fries. I could not eat it. Oh wait, he went out and got that before I got the good meds. I'm mixing things up. Anyway, I tried to eat the sandwich and it was like eating sand. My mouth was so dry I could hardly swallow it. It took me from about 4pm until about 2am to finish that sandwich with a little bite here and a little bite there.

I stayed in the hospital by myself that night. I was up off and on. The good thing about having a vaginal hysterectomy is that you can get up really quickly. They did go through my tummy with the scope to do a few things, but seeing as how this was my 3rd time having that I am a pro at it.

I pushed that PCA button every chance I got. I didn't care if I was high, I just didn't want that pain to come back. That pain, my friends, was the worse I have ever had and I truly mean that. I forgot to mention that I was close to hysterical earlier in the day when the pain wouldn't stop and my Mom got them to give me a Xanax. I did not want to get that way again, so I kept hitting that button.

Let me say, there are some crazy shows on television at night. Really. I've heard all about Adult Swim. I mean, it's funny, from what I can tell, but you probably shouldn't watch it when you are high on Dilaudid. Not a good idea, probably.

Morning came and I ran out of Dilaudid. My Doctor was sick so she sent her partner to discharge me. Not the best bedside manner, I gotta say, but he wrote prescriptions for the good meds I need to get through this and also for the fake Estrogen that I will be on for the rest of my life.

The ride home was hell. When I got home I became very overstimulated from everything and I actually cried in the car on the way home and after I got home. I just couldn't stop. I was a mess. Finally, I went to take a nap and I slept all afternoon.

So, that's the surgery story. Hubby was in the OR during my surgery since he works there. He took pictures of the offending uterus with his cell phone. Maybe I can post them sometime. My uterus was no bigger than two of his fingers lengthwise. He said that the right side was covered with endometriosis. Whaddayknow? That's the side that hurt all the time.

Oh, and I finally got to take a dump today. It was awesome.

Sunday Sunday Sunday

Is this a weekend? 'Cause I wouldn't know that with all the work I've been doing.

I saw 28 patients yesterday so that I can concentrate on school stuff tomorrow, my regular day of seeing patients. It sucked, but it was a jagged little pill that now feels so good swimming in my stomach.

Speaking of stomach, my abdomen still feels like crap. I got a prescription for some medication, but still haven't gotten it from the pharmacy. I've chosen to use good old beer and/or wine this weekend for pain control. The heating pad works well too.

I have exactly 3 days to get about a month's worth of work done before I leave for vacation. When I get back from vacation, I have surgery the very next day. Why am I doing that, you ask? Well, I am the course coordinator for two classes in the Fall. I want to be back by the first day of class because I'm afraid of getting behind. Oh, and yeah, I'm gonna keep teaching online while I'm out.

I'm a workaholic and a control freak.

I hope to run today. I have been working out every other day and while the guilt is difficult to deal with, my body feels better when I do it that way.

Buns got a bath this morning. She is nice and fluffy and smells good. She's tired now. Poor pup.

Okay, off to do paperwork.

He's.....Comin'......OUT

So this is just me and Buns. I like my new web cam that is in my new computer, if you can't tell.

Yeah, that is the BowFlex behind me that I don't use very often at all. Okay, well, at all. Hardly.

Anymore.

I run now. So there.

Well, I went to the MD today and I am having a hysterectomy on July 21. I am freaking out because I go on vacation on July 16 and get back on July 20 and I have a lot to do before the new semester starts on August 21 and I will not be at school. Why can't I just be sick and enjoy it, dammit? Why the hell?

I went off on my poor Mom today. I did. But I am tired of people being all up in my damn beeswax these days. The sound of the phone ringing is enough to send me into orbit these days. I am tired. I am sore. I am bloated. I am just.....just........HOSEBEAST!

So. Anway.

This is How I Feel Today

Yep. That bad.

My doctor is gonna call me today, or so says DH who talked to her. I want a hysterectomy and I want it now. Yeah, I know it's a big step.

I gotta figure out when to get it done. Time is always hard to maneuver in my world.

I feel like I weigh about 350 pounds today. I am so bloated. Ugh.

Dial 'M' for Menstruation

I called the doctor's office on Monday and left a message. No one has called me back. They are wonderful. Not.

So, my hubby works in the Operating Room with these doctors, and my doctor is out of town this week. He talked to her partner, who is the doctor who wrote the Estrogen prescription for me. You know, the Estrogen prescription that she was supposedly supposed to write for me when she put me on the shot? The Estrogen prescription that helps me keep from sweating my virtual balls off at night so I can get some semblance of sleep? Yeah, that prescription and that doctor.

Hubby tells this doctor that I want to stop taking the medication. This doctor says that it is fine, I should know my own body. He says to start taking my BCP on Sunday (thank God, maybe my face will clear up) and to call him. He needs to talk to my doctor (who is not going to be my doctor anymore) and he wants to see me. He says he does not know why I can't have a hysterectomy.

Yes! Oh yes! I mean, that scares me, but this is for the birds. My period started yesterday and the medication information that I have read about this shot (on my own, mind you. I was not told this by my doctor) says that if I have any breakthrough bleeding while taking this shot I should notify my physician immediately. However, since no one has returned my phone call from Monday and it is now Friday the Fourth of July, I'm thinking I will just wait it out.

I woke up at like 1am with some killer cramps. I ended up loading up on Ibuprofen and taking half of a Unisom and sitting up until they both kicked in. I was so thirsty when I woke up last night and I wanted a Coca Cola so bad I could scream but we didn't have any.

My hubby was really sweet to me during all of this and he is the one that got me the Ibuprofen and sat in the bathroom with me while I cried a few tears and hugged my abdomen. I just cried a little, though. It was not full-fledged crying, I will have you know.

Anyway, when I got up this morning he was out golfing but he had gone to the store and bought some Coca Cola and wrote a little note on it saying, "Happy Fourth of July! I love you!"

That was really sweet.

I lost 3 pounds this week counting points. I'm sure the fact that I finally have a period after 3 months of not having one has something to do with it more than counting points. Anyway, I'm surprised that I did lose weight at weigh-in this morning because we went out to eat last night. I had dinner all planned (chicken breast, spinach, corn) but Mom and Dad invited us out and I was in the mood to go....so I did. I'm done being so hella strict on myself. I did that for 5 months while getting to goal. Mind you, I am now (as of today) 6 pounds over goal, but I am just not into the whole nazi OP thing. I can't wrap my brain around it anymore.

I can be OP all week until the weekend and then I just need to eat what I want and drink what I want and not worry about this stupid stuff. Anyway, we went out last night and it was good. I was starving. I got up this morning and did the bagel and coffee thing, ran 4 miles, and then treated myself to the peanut butter pie that I have been promising myself all week. I thought I could eat the whole thing but it was just too sweet. The dogs ended up having some of it. Nothing is funnier than watching a German Shepherd eat peanut butter pie off of a fork, let me tell you.

So, it's chicken breast, spinach, and corn for dinner tonight. I'll be good tonight since I already ate the pie. I will have a few adult beverages tonight too since it's Friday and the Fourth and all. However, I have no holiday plans. It's just another day to me. I never have been a big Fourth of July observer. The times that I have gone out on the Fourth have never been that great, that I remember.

There's that one year that we were at the lake and taking the golf cart down to the pier to get on the boat. It was down a hill and the brakes on the golf cart didn't work. The golf cart flew off the grass, onto the sidewalk, and into the lake with 4 of us in it. Needless to say, that was not fun.

There's that one year that there was a terrible wreck with all sorts of fatalities in town and the roads were so backed up that everyone stayed home....we got drunk as hell and I sprained the shit out of my knee dancing in my friend's living room. That was awesome. I was drinking Mad Dog 20/20. I think I was 23 or 24.

There's the year a few years back that I got so drunk out in the sun drinking beer that I threw up. That was not fun.

So, it's just me and the house and the AC and the dogs this year. And that's fine by me.

I am going to talk to my hubby about this whole hysterectomy thing. I know he wants me to do it ASAP. I think I just might.