I was discharged from the hospital late Sunday night. Apparently, my doctor forgot to stop by the hospital to see me after his afternoon golf game. By the time the nurse got him on the telephone, he was enroute to a birthday dinner. She passed me the phone and he sounded sincerely apologetic for his forgetfulness. As long as he didn’t forget anything important during the procedure! I assured him that coming to see me after his party was fine and he sounded confident that, based on my progress, I would be discharged that night. Although my stay at the hospital was not an unpleasant one, I was ready to go home and sleep in my own bed. Besides that, poor Hubby had not gotten a good rest since the beginning of this ordeal, between the nurses stopping in to take my vitals and me having to pee about every other hour. It was time to go home.
By the time we got home, it was 10:30 pm. Hubby made a couple of phone calls and found the pharmacy at our neighborhood Longs Drugs was already closed for the night. I was due for another dose of percocet at midnight, and another at 4:00 am, so it was critical that we fill that prescription that night. We discovered, the hard way, what happens when I miss a dose.
On Saturday night, I was supposed to take a dose at 9:00 pm, but fell asleep until midnight. Since the nurses had no qualms about waking me for everything else, I thought they’d rouse me to adminster my pain meds. Well, I thought wrong. They don’t give you pain meds unless you ask. I woke up with the need to pee, three hours overdue for a percocet, and the pain level had skyrocketed. It didn’t hit me until Hubby helped me back into bed after I relieved myself. I like to think that I have a pretty good tolerance for pain, but this time, tears streamed down my cheeks until I could calm myself enough to do some deep breathing to make the pain subside. After I took the percocet and a 600 mg motrin, I asked Hubby to set the alarm on his cell phone so we would never miss a dose again, and slipped back to sleep. Thus, every 4 hours, Hubby’s alarm sounds and I promptly press the Nurse Call button and have been riding the percocet wave ever since.
Luckily, for 24-hour service at Longs Drugs in Pearl City. He drove out into the rain, filled my prescription and came home with a blood pressure monitor, kimi balls, and pitted prunes.
I’m still watching what I eat until the elusive poo comes to pass. According to the nurses, when you go under general anesthesia, everything goes to sleep — including your bowels, and it seems that the bowel is the last thing to wake up. The persistent question from everyone who tended to me was: “are you passing gas?” Apparently, not passing gas is a bad, bad thing. Luckily for me, I guess, my first post-surgery fart came rather quickly, and with that, came the urging to get off the liquid diet and on to solids. I managed to sneak in another liquid lunch before they switched me, albeit relucantly, to a “soft” dinner. What came was not what I had in mind: meat loaf with brown gravy, mashed potatoes, steamed broccoli, tossed salad, and a fruit cocktail. I managed to eat everything except the meat loaf and the broccoli — which, in my opinion, was too hard for my delicate digestive system. After that meal, I was able to place my food orders and I kept it to soups, vegetables, and other selections that would not upset my stomach.
Truth be told, I’m frightened of being constipated. I can imagine my stomach feeling like the stitches are being ripped in the midst of trying to pass a particularly difficult poo. So, I’ve taken up the habit of drinking prune juice and munching on pitted prunes. Aside from the sleeping bowels, I understand that pain killers are also notorious for stopping you up. The doctor also prescribed a stool softener for me, but so far, no #2.
Aside from the elusive poo, things are quite well considering. Since I got home, I have been sleeping nearly non-stop. As I mentioned, being awakened every few hours by nurses (and my bladder) can be tiring, so I’ve been catching up on lost sleep. The pain killers also make me very drowsy, so it seems like every time I start to read a book, my eyes start closing and I end up napping for a couple of hours — until it’s time to pee, eat or take my meds again. That’s pretty much all I’ve been up to the past couple of days: sleep, pee, eat, medicate, repeat.
The only reason I’m up out of bed right now is because Hubby had to take his grandma to the hospital for a CAT scan and I can’t get in and out of bed without his assistance. So, I figured I might as well sit up until he gets back. Heaven forbid, I’m stuck in bed and unable to get to the bathroom!
Hubby has been an absolute godsend throughout this whole ordeal, tirelessly taking care of me, getting me in and out of bed, helping me in the bathroom, giving me sponge baths, washing my hair, and pampering me more than he should. (I’m trying not to get spoiled.) I am so grateful for such a wonderful, loving husband. As long as I know he’s by my side, I know I can endure anything. When I thank him, he is quick to take the focus off himself, “God is helping you,” he says. To which I reply, “yes, but you’re helping him. You’re his man on the ground.” I couldn’t ask for a better guardian angel.
