I was up and showered by 6:30 am. At 7:15 am my dear brother was driving me to the hospital for my hernia repair. It's not that Jamey didn't want to. It's kind-of because I didn't want him to. I was worried about Miriam and how she's do when it came to bottled breast milk. I wanted Jamey there with her to figure things out and not place that burden on someone else. (Jamey is really good at carrying my burdens).
Check-in was actually pleasant. A nurse that I know inserted my IV and the nurse who reviewed my paperwork knew where I lived (her grandma had lived right down the road) and homeschools her son. I was really feeling good. Almost no anxiety what-so-ever. I contribute this to all the thoughts and prayers being sent my way. Things were going nicely.
I was wheeled into the operating room only 40 minutes behind schedule and before I knew it I was slipping away into dreamland, minus the dreams.
I woke up in a lot of pain. Trying to convey my pain level (on a one to ten scale) was difficult as I was having trouble forming my thoughts and words thanks to the drugs. The drugs ended up being the problem. They were making me good and sleepy and groggy and limp, but they weren't touching my pain. I could hear other nurses asking other patients who had just woken up about their pain and they were all replying that they had little or no pain. What in the world?! I didn't think I was that much of a wimp. I had a surgeon call me "stoic" once before for goodness sake.
They kept me in recovery longer than normal and tried a myriad of different pain medications to make me comfortable. Eventually I felt a little relief and they took me to a little cubicle of a room. I didn't anticipate needing Jamey there until I was ready to be taken home. I was surprised to find myself asking to nurse to call him and have him come in. I needed him with me.
The rest of the day was spent half-sleeping in pain on oxygen. The drugs made me so sleepy that I guess I was forgetting to breathe, sending my oxygen alarm off repeatedly. They weren't happy with my blood pressure either. It's normally on the low side anyway, but it was dropping even lower. The pain killers were making me nauseous and irritable and I wasn't able to pee. The nurses were pleased with me when I could walk myself to the bathroom, but their faces showed pity when I couldn't empty my bladder and when my BP read low once again.
By 6pm I was asking to leave. They were hinting that I could/should stay overnight. I was miserable and being in the hospital was not making me feel better. If I was going to feel lousy, I wanted to feel lousy in my own bed. Finally, after checking with the on-call surgeon about my low BP, we were allowed to leave. Jamey settled me in bed after a gingerly ride home and before long, I was off to sleep.
(Do you know how often you use your stomach muscles? Like, all the time. Having seven small incisions/puncture wounds in those stomach muscles makes moving not fun at all. I just wanted to relay that little fun fact.)
Today is a better day. The drugs that made me irritable and way too groggy yesterday have worn off and my pain pills are providing just the right amount of sleepiness and almost the right amount of pain relief as long as we don't let them wear off. It's nice being married to your own personal pharmacist who also brings you meals, the computer and the mail upon request.
Things with Miriam have been going pretty well. It took her awhile yesterday but she finally caught on to bottles (we had done some practice ones ahead of time, but she didn't like them). I pumped once in the hospital and once in the middle of the night to get rid of all the tainted milk and to keep me from leaking all over the place. Twice today she's nursed. We've found two good positions for both of us, thank goodness. Even though she's eating well she's not quite her happy self. I wonder what she thinks. "Get up, lazy mommy! You've been in that bed all day and haven't carried me on your hip once!"
My brother and his wife have been amazing. Kim spent most of the day with our three kids, brought in a meal and all-together did a wonderful job. We thought we'd need her for just a couple hours as I was projected to be released around 1 pm instead of 6 or 7 pm or whenever that was. When we got home, she had Miriam and Sadie in bed and was playing Monopoly with Sam. Playing Monopoly with Sam is enough to show how awesome she is. So, thank you, thank you, thank you, Kim and Ben.
And then there is my husband, Jamey. You know the vow "in sickness and in health"? With three pregnancies, three deliveries and four surgeries, he's certainly holding up his promise to stick by me. He won't like me writing this, but he is truly the most giving and self-less person I know. You know how God is our rock? Well, I've been blessed with two rocks.
Maybe this has been too much information for you and if so, I apologize. It's funny, this blog-thing. I'm finding that it's a compulsion, this having to write down events and memories even if they are events and memories that I would probably prefer not to remember. It seems to help me organize my thoughts and make better sense out of things (details, feelings, etc.) in my head.
Thanks for bearing with me and for all your kind thoughts and words (and gifts of food- you know who you are). Pin It