|Requisite pre-surgery selfie|
But waiting til noon for surgery was still awful. I spent most of the time pepping/freaking myself out by thinking about the weird 'missing time' phenomena I was about to go through. Like, when they wheeled me back to the operating room...I would close my eyes and then be put under, and when I opened my eyes...it would be like no time had passed. Surgery could take 10 minutes or 10 days and I would have no concept of it as soon as I opened my eyes. Matt, on the other hand, would have to wait out every single boring minute in the waiting room. It's just really weird to me, so I couldn't stop thinking or talking about it. My apologies to Matt and anyone else forced to listen to me expound on my deep thinking (lookin at you, nice nurses).
As it turned out, surgery took about two hours. It took me about two more hours to come out of the anesthesia. Apparently I took it pretty hard. It's weird because I can sort of remember it, the coming awake part? But it's also really fuzzy. But I remember thrashing around a lot and the nurses holding me still so that my IVs wouldn't come out. And then I was shaking a lot, and they gave me morphine until I stopped. They didn't let Matt come back to see me for a long time.
Anyway, I was eventually awake enough to be dumped in the car and sent on my merry, delirious, nauseous way. As last time, surgery was in Atlanta, so a long, trafficky drive home was next on the agenda. And I think that last time I was mostly asleep for the drive home, but this time I was awake enough to be completely aware of how insanely nauseous I was the whole time. It was delightful, really.
We made it home without me puking all over the car, which felt like an enormous accomplishment. I proceeded to take All the Medicine (Percocet & Zofran) and pass out on the couch for the next five days.
Millie's been spending about half of her days at my in-laws' house and half of her time here at home with Matt and Worthless Mommy. She's not remotely impressed with the various ways Matt has configured the living room to keep her away from The Prize: Mommy.
|I will get you, Mommy! Fear not! No cage can contain me!|
|Are you bored? You look bored. You keep falling asleep. Here, have a horse.|
|Oh wait, I actually want that horse now. And also, if I think really skinny thoughts, maybe I can squeeeeeze...okay, no.|
Then on Friday night my incisions really started itching. I have three incisions this time (one less than last time), and up until Friday, they hadn't bothered me in the least. No pain or burning or tightness like last time. But they started itching.
And the itching got worse.
And never stopped, even when I was sleeping, even when I was knocked out on painkillers and sleeping.
So by yesterday evening, each incision was surrounded by bright red welts, bumps, and HERE I AM GOING TO NOT LIST SOME OF THE MORE REVOLTING SYMPTOMS, INCLUDING VARIOUS DESCRIPTIONS OF DISCHARGES I MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE BEEN SEEING, SO THANK ME LATER. After thoroughly scouring all of my post-op instructions and Googling things like "incisions itching after surgery," Matt and I finally decided it probably was not just a normal amount of itching, so we called the doctor's office first thing this morning.
My doctor agreed that most likely I am having a localized allergic reaction to either the Steri-strips (tape that is on top of the stitches) or the stitches themselves. It's much more common to be allergic to the Steri-strips, so for now they wanted me to go ahead and remove all the tape (which was NOT FUN because it's not loosened up enough yet...so this was like pulling off Bandaids that REALLY did not want to come off) (but ANYTHING IS BETTER THAN THE ITCHING) and take Benadryl and hopefully the itching should subside and the hives will go away. If they don't, then...I don't know. Maybe it wasn't the Steri-strips and maybe it's something else? I can't even think about that yet.
So the tape has been off for a few hours, and seeing what everything looks like under the tape is like a horror movie. DISGUSTING. I took pictures (because I'll need to know whether things are getting better or not), but I am consumed with the fear that I'll forget to delete the pictures and that next year they'll show up on my Time Hop and I'll just die instantly because of the gross-out shock.
In conclusion...I hope that you never develop a Steri-strip allergy after you have surgery and Steri-strips are holding your abdomen closed, because it is possibly the nastiest and most uncomfortable thing ever.
|Let's cleanse the palate with a picture of Millie playing in the leaves while her mommy suffers, shall we?|
|Mommy, when are we going to play games that are more fun than me stealing your socks and tickling your feet?|
So that's pretty much the surgery update. Unfortunately, all of my Netflix marathoning goals were way too lofty. I have really been too out of it to concentrate on anything besides not barfing (because barfing REALLY hurts my stomach). I didn't do anything but sleep for about two days, and now that I'm able to stay conscious for a few hours at a time, I do watch TV some, but I can't really focus. So I've just been watching odd episodes of House Hunters and other HGTV shows that don't really matter if you doze off for 20 minutes in the middle of the ep.
During my most awake/bored times, I have watched a few eps of Jane the Virgin, though, and it's pretty entertaining. Matt would HAAAATE it, so I'm watching it while he's not around, but it is pretty hilarious. And also so nonsensical that it doesn't really matter if I'm 100% cognitively there or not, ha!
Thanks so much for your emails and texts checking on my well-being! I really appreciate your prayers and thoughts and random bits of entertainment and distraction! I look forward to rejoining everyone in the Land of the Living very soon! (Unless I end up self-amputating my stomach due to the Steri-strip debacle. Which was something I gave serious consideration to for about six hours during the middle of the night...) (But seriously. Watching a lot of DIY shows + painkillers + delirious itching = bad ideas)