Anesthesia Thoughts. My LSH Hysterectomy Recovery.

10 days after my surgery, I did my first full 2.5 mile walk, it felt great! 

When I became aware of anything after my hysterectomy, I was waking up from anesthesia and my first thought was how thirsty I was. My post-op nurse brought me no less than 3 cups of ice water and I drank them right down. I wasn't in pain, I felt pretty great, though groggy. I heard the nurse telling somebody that I was ready to go to the second floor and all I could think was that L&D at St. Luke's was on the second floor and did I have to have another baby?? My groggy brain couldn't remember being pregnant and I really didn't feel up to giving birth at that moment, thank you!

I vaguely remember saying "Not the second floor!" to the nurse and him assuring me that they actually have a surgical observation department there. I was so relieved! No baby! I had four of my children at that hospital so I was wheeled up to the second floor for the fifth time but for a different reason. When I got to my room, they asked me if I wanted to walk from the door to the bed and I did. I felt a little bit shaky and couldn't quite stand up straight because of my incision pain but I did it! They put boots on my legs that squeezed them to prevent blood clots, it was kind of relaxing, like a massage. The only thing that bothered me was having a catheter, I have had them before, in labor, but only when I also had an epidural. It's not a pleasant feeling when you're not numb.

Once I was settled into the hospital room, I called my husband, who was at work. After his procedure in October, there was very little I could do for him so we decided that it was better for him to be at work rather than sitting around in the hospital. I was tired and not really up to visitors anyway. I immediately started plotting to get the nurses to agree to let me get up and have my catheter out, but they explained that I needed it so my bladder could heal after the trauma of the surgery. I was on a clear diet but got to have black coffee which was heaven after having to skip my coffee that morning. I rested and watched classic TV and the nurses were absolutely great! My tendency to downplay everything caught up with me though. I hadn't asked for any pain medication since I got out of surgery and around 9 that evening, the pain became unbearable. I learned my lesson about trying to be a hero, and that surgery is not like childbirth! I've never been in the hospital except to have a baby, and sometimes, not even then. When I gave birth to Dori, for example, I made lasagna that morning while in the early stages of labor, had him an hour after arriving at the birth center,  and came home in time for dinner. James used to say that my births are so quick that it's like a trip to the "baby store". So recovery from anything is new to me and I wasn't quite sure how to handle it. My instinct is to push myself but in this case, it's not a good instinct.

The next day I finally got the hated catheter out and walked laps around my room to prove my legs worked and got to eat for the first time in 48 hours. James came to pick me up and I was able to walk out of the hospital on my own steam.

The physical recovery, for me, was- nothing. It is easy for me to forget anything happened. I haven't had much pain at all and almost no bleeding. Emotionally? Not so much. It isn't so much that I'm sad that I had to lose my uterus, I am completely happy not being able to have more children. But apparently, a surgery like that causes your ovaries to become traumatized and go on hiatus for a bit. So I have symptoms that are similar to sudden menopause, but temporary. I find myself crying over everything lately. Feeling sad but about nothing in particular. I can be a little short and testy with my family. I'm also very tired in the afternoon which I'm told is normal.

So almost 3 weeks later I feel....unsettled? Every once in a while, I get a feeling like you have when you're on vacation and it hits you that you forgot some important thing at home. I'll be doing something else and get this thought, "my uterus is gone!" and have a wave of panic. I'm sure I'll get used to it, I mean, they can't put it back so I guess I have to!

Overall, it's been a roller-coaster. I went back to my normal routine very quickly and definitely experience some more pain and swelling when I overdo things. Some days I feel like nothing happened and other days I feel really tired and emotional. I know that's all normal but I feel like I'm stuck in a weird in-between stage, not quite in recovery mode but not quite back to normal.

In a lot of ways, I feel so much better than I did before surgery. My asthma immediately improved. My resting heart rate, which had been creeping up over the preceding year is back to my normal 60's. I know once I'm fully recovered and my ovaries "wake up", I'll feel like myself again. But for now, I am having occasional hot flashes and a weird empty ache feeling. I'm looking forward to spring and better days ahead!

The Lump of Coal

The Lump of Coal

I don't feel well.

It feels like there's a lump of hot coal in my belly, just to the right of my belly button.

Sometimes I feel an odd tugging as if something is pulling my internal organs every so slightly over to the right.

Sometimes I'm doubled over as the hot coal inside my belly smolders and burns.

It's been like boiling a frog.

At first, it was "just" heavy bleeding. Bleeding so much and so quickly that no tampon, cup, or pad could contain it. Sleeping strategically, with both a cup and a giant pad, I would be careful even in my sleep so that I wouldn't shift enough to bleed through the pad when the cup overfloweth (as it always did) so I wouldn’t bleed on my white sheets. I’ve been menstruating for a long time, 26 years, and it was the first time it seemed feasible to wear an adult diaper or put one of those Chux on the bed that they use when you give birth.

Then it was the dull ache that wasn't menstrual cramps, wasn't a stomachache, was just...there.

Then I noticed that my digestion was impacted, as my uterus burgeoned up out of my pelvis to a size that rivals that of a four-month pregnancy. Except I'm not pregnant, and the hormones that women have in pregnancy that allows their uterus to expand without resistance are not present. So my stomach is being pushed upward by my uterus, and this creates bloating and heartburn that used to be a pregnancy symptom.

I toss and turn, hugging a pillow to my stomach and curling around it, hoping to contain the pain.

My toddlers have to sit next to me instead of on my lap because I can't stand any pressure on my lower abdomen. Even their elbows and knees as they squirm around make me wince.

When the doctor probed my belly before my ultrasound, I flinched. It hurts. It's tender and hard below my seven-kids-bread-dough belly, like a painful, overinflated balloon with a lump of hot coal inside.

I've never taken naps, not in 18 years of raising children. In the last two weeks, I have desperately needed naps. By the afternoon, I'm so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open.

I was bleeding for 3 weeks straight in June and for 2 weeks again in December. I wear a pantiliner or a pad more than I don’t.

My last period made it so I could not leave the house.  This bleeding involves sudden, huge gushes that come out too fast for the maxi pad to absorb, so the blood runs down my legs, feeling exactly like I've wet my pants, except it is blood.

Last month, when I thought the bleeding was finally over, I got in the shower,  and after I washed my hair, I looked down and saw that I was standing in a puddle of bloody water with blood streaming down my legs like I was Janet Leigh’s character in the Psycho shower scene. It is alarming to have that much blood leave your body, especially when it’s not supposed to happen. I am so tired of bleeding. On that occasion, I sobbed as the blood went down the drain.

I'm ready for surgery.  I need to get my energy back and not feel that a little more of my life force is ebbing away every day. I need to walk up a flight of stairs without becoming short of breath. I need to be able to stop having my period and pain rule my life and determine what I will do on any given day. I need to rid myself of the burning hot coal that is stealing my health and my perception of myself as a young, vibrant woman.

One of my professors once described me as having the energy of five people. Now I would settle for the energy of one regular, 38 year old person. Since I had Gretel my symptoms have gotten so much worse and they are impacting my quality of life more and more by the day. I’m ready to close this chapter of my life.

I'm ready.

***Today I had a hysterectomy! No more lump of hot coal! (though my incisions will be a bit touchy for a while)