Wednesday, July 1, 2009

3 weeks post-PAO

You'd think I'd forgotten about this place lately, but really I've just forgotten what day/week/month it is. Seriously, I have no sense of time. But even so I'm aware that 3 weeks ago this afternoon I was waking up in recovery, putting my tongue stud back in, and feeling comfortably numb (if a bit woozy). Hard to believe that the hospital stay that at first moved so slowly from my static position in bed actually lasted a mere 5 days before I was back in Vermont, eating maple creemees with my folks.

Hospital living was so outside my realm of experience that it's only in retrospect that I realize how completely strange it was. At most I had the same nurses for 2 shifts, so it was a revolving door of new faces endlessly taking my vitals, bringing me pills, refilling my water. The first two nights I was lucky enough to have Nadine, who not only appreciated my sense of humor (thankfully unmarred by surgery) but had one of her own, and called me "sweetpea", which is what I call Augustus when he's not chewing cords or running laps while I try to sleep. This is helpful when one's job is to wake up an exhausted person every 2 hours to lay a bag of ice at intervals down both sides of their body and make them say "cold", "cool", or "nothing" as appropriate.

I was also lucky enough to have a room of my own, and the window view to boot (most of what I could see being relatively parkish) and flowers from friends and a teddy bear (Cowbell, as in "I've got a fever [which I did] and the only cure is more") that I quickly became very attached to. I learned to account for lag time in asking for vital equipment like a trapeze or a walker early to allow for the inevitable half-day bureaucratic delay in delivery. This lesson was driven home waiting for the toilet riser to arrive once my catheter came out. I learned not to order the fish (kind of a "duh" moment, in hindsight) but that the veggie burgers were enormous and you won't get ketchup unless you ask for it. Life skills, I tell you what! :)

The epidural was perfect (kudos skilled anesthesiologist whose name I don't remember!) and kept me well insulted from pain for as long as it was supposed to. I hadn't taken into account how difficult sitting up would be with a numb midsection, most of the reason why I nearly pulled my epidural out in all my scootings and squirmings before the trapeze arrived. I learned the power of the boost, when a nurse takes either side of the pad you're laying on and slides you right up to the top of the bed - THAT was awesome. I learned that without it your feet end up resting on the metal bar across the end of the bed, and that that, coupled with the epidural's numbness, will lead to bedsores (which thankfully I was spared) if you're not careful. I learned that having a drain pulled out and having a catheter pulled out are equally bizarre sensations, but the drain actually hurts, whereas the catheter is only uncomfortable. And that you should ask for the commode chair well before committing to catheter removal. I may have mentioned this before - it's a lesson I've learned well! :)

Going to the bathroom (as in physically getting myself in there and sitting down) was by far the most painful aspect (aside from rolling over to change the sheets under me - NOT for the faint of heart!) and complicated by the fact that my equilibrium was totally screwy. I'm glad the bathroom door was about 6 inches from my knees so that when I stood up I just bounced my head off of it instead of toppling to the floor. I can't quite explain the joy of being able to go in there, shut the door and just be ALONE after feeling like I was living in a glorified hallway for days on end. Oh, the simple pleasures!

I can't say enough about the BI staff and the care I received there - I always felt well looked-after and everyone I encountered was very kind. I can't thank my mother enough for staying with me for the duration, even though she commented more than once that she might as well have stayed home for all I "needed" from her. Just having her sitting there reading a book was enough most days, though the burrito she brought me for dinner halfway through my stay made her presence invaluable.

Since I've been home (or at least in my former home), I've been doing dandily - my bandage and steristrips have all been off for about a week now and, though it's considerably more gruesome than I'd anticipated (not to mention long as hell), my incision seems to be healing nicely. The tenderness along it is subsiding, along with the numbness in my upper thigh and the side of my hip, though that's receding slower than I'd thought/hoped it would. Last Friday I was able to sleep on my (right) side for the first time and it was VERY strange - the whole balance of my midsection is completely different (don't make me waste one of my duh's, as Bev would say) but it's comfortable, though rolling back over onto my back is a little difficult. Oooh and last night for the first time I lifted my op leg onto the bed without using my hands! Woohoo! I did it without even thinking and then went "Hey! My leg's on the bed! Sweeeeet."

My parents leave for 2 weeks at our place on PEI tomorrow and in anticipation I've been cooking more and more for myself without too many problems, though I did drop a bucket of raspberry sorbet (sing it like Prince!) on the floor the other day and ended up laughing hysterically as I tried (and failed) to pick it back up again and again with my crutches. I've learned that having my grabber with me (and a chair in the room) is key for safe and effective meal preparation.

And, though my mom is insanely restrictive in her assessment(s) of what I can and cannot do, I've been out on the town three times in the last week (not counting last night's long-awaited trip to the pharmacy) and have fared very well. This weekend I hope to make my triumphant return to civil society with some parade-and-fireworks action at John & Ali's in Hinesburg - we'll see how long I last without having to take a nap. :)

All in all the experience has been FAR less horrendous, painful, and frustrating than I ever thought it would be. Good thing I was consumed with it for 9+ months, right?! In two weeks I return to Childrens in Waltham for my post-op and get to see if the ol' pelvis is healing according to plan. I'm no expert (on anything, really), but I do suspect the results will be favorable!

And now, back to my It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia marathon, already in progress. I'm gonna rise up, gonna kick a little ass, gonna kick some ass in the USA. Gonna climb a mountain, gonna sew a flag, gonna fly on an eagle. I'm gonna kick some butt, I'm gonna drive a big truck, I'm gonna rule this world, I'm gonna kick some ass, I'm gonna rise up, I'm gonna kick a little ass, ROCK, FLAG, AND EAGLE!!

3 comments:

Lee said...

Um, any chance you can manage the stairs to the Black Door? If so then we'll be there tonight around 7ish. I didn't realize you were a fellow blogspotter. It sucks, blogspot. But switching is just too impossible.

PS: M? You gotta get a cool tag. That's the whole point of blogging!
Lee

M said...

ha! What can I say? I am that I am!

Alas I'm still down in Wallingford but otherwise stairs aren't too bad - just tiring!

Jen said...

Hello! I've been reading your blog and hope you are doing well. Please send me your email addy and I can send you an invite to mine - there's 35 days unil my PAO!
Jen