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.
