On the Road to Recovery

A week ago this morning, I was on a bed in GW Hospital, IV firmly implanted in vein, Pinchloaf by my side, awaiting the start of the procedure to remove my fibroids. The surgery was supposed to begin at 9:45 am. I finally saw my doctor at 9:40, when he told me that the crybaby in the operating room I was scheduled for was having complications and it was taking longer than expected.

They finally wheeled me back to the OR at 11:30. The procedure itself was routine. They found a fourth (!) fibroid underneath the huge one, lurking there all, "Surprise! Bet you didn't expect me!" The doctor was able to get everything out via the 5 cm incision and he stapled (!!) me closed. This prompted loads of office supply jokes from my mother and husband in my hospital room later. I hadn't been feeling nauseous at all until that point. I think I needed a leeeettle distance between the surgery and the point where I could start joking around about it.

My overnight stay went by quickly, although I certainly didn't sleep very much. The nurse scared me by telling me that if I didn't pee on my own by 8 pm, they were going to put a catheter back in me. I drank so much water and apple juice from 4 o'clock on that I not only peed on my own by 8:30, I went every freaking hour on the hour for the rest of the night. Hey, at least I didn't need the catheter.

The past week has been harder than I expected. There have been a lot more ups and downs, whereas I thought it would just be this curve of feeling a little bit better every day. Food's been an issue, as my appetite has just been everywhere. I was experiencing, how shall we say...some adverse affects from the anesthesia that were leaving me, well, painfully backed up until Friday. In addition, I had gasses trapped inside my body cavity (yeah, it's just as gross as it sounds) that were making things extremely uncomfortable through Wednesday; that's an unfortunate side effect of abdominal surgery as well.

I was able to take very small walks around my development starting Wednesday, nothing more than 10-15 minutes. Yesterday was the first day that I actually felt mostly like myself, but less bouncy. I experienced a bit of cabin fever, and Pinchloaf and I walked the biggest circle in my neighborhood I'd walked yet. I think I'm in a better place than a lot of other women who have been through the same procedure, but it's still frustrating not being able to exercise at least a little more. I have a feeling I'll be incredibly bored by Wednesday, but still won't really want to go back to work next Monday.

Thanks to all my family and friends who have been so supportive throughout this ordeal. Ames has come over almost daily to keep me company, and my mom has come every day to fix me lunch. A group of my co-workers sent me flowers, as did Colon (the daisies are still going strong!). The phone calls and emails have been most welcome and have helped immeasurably in my recovery process. And of course, Pinchloaf has been endlessly patient and nurturing, catering to my every need and whim. It feels good to be past the worst.