Here is my surgery story.
You would think that this was exciting enough, but I am totally an over achiever. I mean it was a totally mundane surgery that went haywire from the first cut. That should be enough, right??
Instead, 2 weeks ago (16 days post-op), I noticed an odd pain in my back, on the right side. I noticed and then forgot. I noticed it later and became annoyed. My guess was that I had a kidney stone/ UTI/ kidney infection, because it was almost that low. It was that kind of pain. I am a teacher and was a waitress. For a bit, my doc just called in a script for Cipro or Bactrim (until we found out I was allergic to sulfa) because I KNEW when I had a UTI and he was tired of telling me what I already knew. It has been years, but that pain brought all that rushing back to my brain.
As the day went on, I noticed it was only when I inhaled, but not always. I was becoming increasingly impatient. I told my FF that I would call the doc in the AM and get into see her. Perfectly logical, right??
Until 1AM came. We had only been asleep for an hour or so. I guess I started wimpering in my sleep, waking up the fireman. (AMAZINGLY, he is not a light sleeper when he is at home.) And I finally woke up and was IN PAIN! He wanted me to go in. I of course fought it...for a bit. Until my brain woke up. It hurt to breathe, but I had no shortness of breath.
Surgery riddled with complications + Estrodial hormone replacement therapy + family history + difficulty taking a breath in = CRAP!
I did not say it out loud. I got dressed without saying anything. J took me to the hospital that is just around the corner from us. I wanted the kids to be able to walk up to come hang out with me, because I knew I was not coming home after an ED visit. And I was not in the mood to talk to or deal with the residents of a teaching hospital, I still had the bad taste in my mouth from my last hospitalization.
We went in and I said it.
|I took my bag since I knew I would be there a bit.|
The doc came in, clearly worn out from the faults of our medical system (I'll save that rant for another post). After he took my basic history, he asked if I was a doctor. Nope, just a high school teacher. On his way out he made a side comment, something to the effect of "someone has been on WebMD, huh" . Nope. Never went looking. Just an epiphany as I struggled to breathe.
I remember hearing the stories of the depression my mother was sent it to while they treated her for a PE. I was very young and stayed with her parents. I started to call my grandma "Mawma" and all my mother heard was "Momma". It was a horrible recovery from that complication. You hear about how you caused your mother that stress and the idea stays with you.
I also am one of those weird people. I actually LISTEN to the docs during my pre-op appointments. I knew what the complications and risks might be. Once I realized that it might be detrimental to my quest for old age to play the tough guy, there were no more complaints and I just put my concerns out there. I know people come in after searching the web, but I just did the math. (Not bad for a history teacher!)
Luckily, he took me seriously. Instead of starting with the labs, he ordered a CT. The labs came as well, but he did not wait for the results to come back before deciding on imaging. The results came back together. I was right. The doc was surprised and told me I was spot on with my diagnosis. I clearly missed my calling.
I did it good - go big or go home, I guess.
I ended up back in the hospital for a couple days. Lovenox injections, even though there was not DVT were less than enjoyable. The kids were able to walk up to come see me, so it was less of a stressor.
So what did I learn from this?? I learned what a bleb was. I learned that my husband is so wonderfully compassionate and caring when tending to the sick. I learned that a trip to Target CAN force to require a three hour nap. I learned that I am not 10 foot tall and bullet-proof and this will probably take me a year to fully recover. I learned that cuts from invisible ninjas that once required a Band-Aid®, will require medical attention when the Xarelto does not allow it to clot off after 7 hours. I have learned that I can do stairs, down is easier than up. I learned that I have amazing friends. I learned that I am competitive and too hard on myself, even with my stupid incentive spirometer. I learned that I am happy to be here, even with all these annoying complications.
Recovery was amazingly seamless, J and I had planned on not being here, so he was off of work and able to hold down the fort while I was down for the count. He has been amazing. My kids have been wonderful. And I am OH so grateful that I did not have to deal with this over the school year!
My FF is on shift. We are five weeks away from school starting and I need to get my butt moving. Enjoy the day, no matter what it brings and let your FF know you love him, even when he's being a brat. ;) Happy Hump Day!