For reals. Bugger this entire peace of crap surgery.
Okay, I’ll be somewhat serious now. . .I’m incredibly grateful that I live in a Country where I was able to receive the best medical care possible, with an amazing surgeon and incredible nurses.
My surgery went swimmingly. In other words that don’t bring up weird word pictures. . .it’s done.
I went in, they knocked me out and I woke up with my hand on my stomach and voice cracking, “Ouch.”
Not exactly sure how many times that little ditty came out of mouth for the first hour or so. Funny, I can know all the words that I know and be obsessed with them and “ouch” is what came out.
And ouch was right. Getting a hysterectomy from my unfiltered unladylike point of view. . .is like having sex with a 2×4, all while being shitfaced or roofied. You’re sore in places you never knew you could be sore. Everything hurts. And when I say everything, I mean everything.
For me I woke up with a hospital gown draped over me, an IV dripping delightful pain meds, fluids and antibiotics into my veins, all while sitting reclined in a position that could my spinal cord speak would be on a soapbox of a rant explaining what a bitch I am to have placed my body in that position. I’d be the other crazy lady on a box screaming about the catheter and pool of blood that I was sitting in.
It was don’t move or take a bottle of xanax to relax against the urge to stand up and take a shower, of course after ripping the catheter out.
Think about that one for a second. . .I’ve got this image in my brain of me rampaging like Godzilla, roaring – because now my hormones are a mess, which I’ll get to – and screaming. Shredding bloody sheets all while a balloon of my own urine is being thrown about staining the walls as it deflates like a sad birthday balloon well past it’s expiration date.
I didn’t do any of that. I was actually an impeccable patient and made friends with my nurses, even going so far as to learn about the life of one of my nurses and giving her a copy of my book.
One night in the hospital with machines clicking and humming and doors being opened and my catheter bag being emptied which made me want to come off the bed from the weird sensations. . .
After that night, I was discharged after peeing in the toilet, which until you’ve had a hysterectomy, it’s hard to explain. . .it feels weird, like it hurts but doesn’t. No burning. . .just. . .wrong. Like your bladder got all pissed off at you for taking its best friend away, the uterus and now it’s scared for life. Shy bladder symptom after hysterectomy is real dudes and dudettes. Promise.
From there I came home and the next three days are a combination of pain, sleep, laxatives – ‘cuz the last thing you want on top of being slightly butchered is to not be able to poo.
I lost almost a week of my life to feeling things i’d never felt before and crashing while snoring – loudly – for all to hear, with meds and juice and crackers and crazy.
Four days later the next part of this chapter began. . .
stay tuned. . .xo