Posted on Sunday, April 15 2007
If you ever meet a women who has had a Whole-Shebang Hysterectomy who says, “Oh that was no big deal.” Please, no matter where you are or what the circumstance might be, think of me and summon up your nerve, look her straight in the eye and say these magic words, “You are full of shit my dear.”
There is no part of this whole thing that’s “no big deal.” I’m pretty tough when it comes to pain and coping with feeling bad, but this might be out of my league. Everyday is different, and any given moment I might have a different perspective on things.
Yesterday was my first full day at home. I woke up in the wonderful reclining end of the couch, stiff, sore, hurting like I had been hit by a truck. I barely managed to get out of the recline position. I would say that was a 3 tear, 5 deep breaths, and 1 moment of seriously considering overdosing on the Darvocet event.
Once I was up and headed to the bathroom I wasn’t exactly ok. I was sure anytime I would feel the warm trickle down my leg. I wasn’t in the mood for dealing with that, so I took advantage of the inertia I had built up so I hoped for the best and kept moving.
I went to sit on the toilet and with the sexy contorted way I had to hold my body just right without bending wrong, stretching wrong, or positioning a foot in an unstable place, I reached for the nearest towel bar for some support. I kind of grabbed it, and “clink”, the bar came out of the 1970’s special brass holder. There I was, sideways, half squatting, half standing, one hand on the fake marble counter top one hand holding a rod with two towels on it. I couldn’t go down and I couldn’t quite go up and my bladder was seriously protesting the delay. For some reason I couldn’t let myself drop the towel bar, or even let the towels slip off. I started laughing, which hurt like hell and for an second the pain kind of slipped away, but it was crucial that I get settled down on the stool or there would still be clean up in aisle 1. Still holding the towel rod in my left hand, no towels having yet touched the floor due my strange desire to not make a mess of things, I finally hit the target, butt in place, pee going where it’s supposed to go, not a drop out of place.
Upon my return trip to the couch I stopped at the drug counter for some moral support. One pain killer, on stool softener, Twinkie flavored lip balm, a shot of Mentholatum around the nose, deep breathing into the Voldyne 5000, a box of raisins and enough of a pause to look around to appreciate what an amazing kitchen and dining room we have. I love our house, and it’s a nice thing to stop for a minute to really pay attention to how comfortable and healing it really is to have such a good place to live and now recover from this surgery thing.
As I began to continue on to the couch I thought of something that might take the sting and ache of my upper groin/lower stomach away. A frozen bag of peas had been converted into a double Zip-Locked ice pack the day before after I got home from the hospital. Ah, now I just had to backtrack a few feet to the freezer. All this time I’m trying desperately to be quiet so as not to wake my husband and mother who were sleeping at the other end of the house. Morning is a bad time for post surgery people, at least for me and this was no time for them to be worrying or fussing around me. It was better for them to rest and for me to be alone with my self pity and pain management.
Ahh, frozen peas can be molded in just the right shape around any bulging belly ache. And if you thought my belly bulged before, the swelling makes a blue ribbon melon for sure. I sat at the 30 year old dinning room table in a hard spindle back chair surprisingly relaxed as the cold slowly seeped through the cloth of underpants. I hadn’t peed my pants, but my leopard patterned pajama bottoms were now becoming acquainted with a friendly alternative. I enjoyed a few more deep breaths, just in time for my mom to come stumbling in the room, “Oh honey, are you alright? Do you need anything?” I I wasn’t sure how to break the news to her that I had just had such an adventure without asking for any assistance, so I just let her get me some water and cook me an egg to go with my peas.
No towels were harmed in the making of this real life drama.