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.