Ugh, thinking about updating my blog is exhausting to me. I'm sorry. Here is the news. Pictures to follow shortly. or longly. maybe.
Tony gave me a really wonderful blessing the night before I went in. It was very calming and reassuring. I reported for surgery at 6:00am (we were only a little late) on Wednesday. I cried a lot during the pre-op stuff because I already missed Lucy a lot. The nurses thought I was scared...I didn't really care much about the surgery, just missing Lucy. They gave me something to calm my nerves. A nervous resident came to tell me about a monitor headband they wanted me to wear during the surgery to measure how asleep I was during the procedure. Her tentativeness really annoyed me, it was like she was afraid of me. I said I'd participate in the study so she ripped open the package and then asked me if I had any allergies to adhesives. Um, yeah, it's written all over my chart and on the surgery room door, LATEX ALLERGY. She said nevermind. Ahhh...my insurance dollars at work. What a waste.
I came out of the surgery one grape sized tumor lighter and in a lot of pain. They put me on a morphine drip that probably took the edge off but I still hurt pretty badly. I think I have a really low tolerance for pain but a really high tolerance for pain medicine. I took two oxycoton and still hurt. I hurt and hurt and hurt and hurt. I complained and complained and complained and called more than one nurse incompetent. They just couldn't seem to do anything right. While I was recovering apparently they told me how the surgery went while I was still asleep. HELLO? Does that sound like a good plan? So after a while I started asking for my family...they said my family would meet me in my room. I got admitted to my room and my family wasn't there. I asked again and this was the nurses response, "I don't think your family is here." I wanted to scream at her..."are you CRAZY or just plain stupid?" Morphine doesn't do anything nice for me. I become sort of an angry, bitter version of myself. After a while I called the nurse and said the pain was really bad...and um...where's my family? She said I couldn't have any more medicine and she'd call for my family. I realized at that point I had NO clue how my surgery had gone. Did they even get the tumor out? Probably an hour went by (there conveniently wasn't a clock in my portion of the room. They probably thought that was better for them but it really only causes me to exaggerate on how long I actually had to wait) and I started to cry. I had no idea what was going on, where my family was, what had happened to me and I hurt. I felt abandoned. I called the nurse. Cried to her. She'd see what she could do. I've come to hate that expression. She came back at the same time Jennifer and Tony showed up. I cried some more. Still hurting. Lucy and Grammi came to visit, it was so hard not to hold her. I could give her kisses and touch her a little but I couldn't really hug her. Ugh, it was awful. My cousin Bev came to see me, which was sweet.
I started feeling really engorged from not having pumped since 5:30am that morning, it was now probably later in the evening, 8:00 or 9:00ish. I asked to have a breast pump brought to my room. Earlier the previous week I had talked to the nurse practitioner about how I would need a pump and she said no problem, that the nurses would be informed and that she'd try to get me a private room. HA! laughable, I don't think they exist at UofM, I think they'd stick two patients in a broom closet if they could. And then make them take care of each other.
I waited a couple hours for the pump. The "clerk" brought it and left it outside the door. It was missing the hygiene kit which I thought probably the nurses were waiting for and that's why they weren't actually bringing it into the room. Turns out none of my sweet, young nurses had ever seen a breast pump before and must have slept through the maternity portion of their education because they didn't even know what it was when it showed up. On the paper taped to the pump it said, "1 pump, breast." Finally Jennifer put the pump right in the doorway so they would have to move it in order to get into the room. So...Malibu Barbie nurse wheels it into the room...I say,
"I need the hygiene kit that goes with it to actually get the milk out."
MBN: "Oh, you need some gauze or tape? Do you tape it on?" (SERIOUSLY---TAPE!?!?!)
me (in the calmest voice I can muster): no, it should have come with a kit with some hoses and horns and collection bottles.
MBN: "Oh, I'll see what I can do." (I'm beginning to loathe this statement.)
Hours go by. They've paged the clerks. I say, "can't someone just walk over to the maternity ward and get one...I know they keep them in the drawers in the rooms."
MBN: "OH, the MATERNITY WARD....I'll check there!" (SERIOUSLY---This didn't occur to you before?)
Hours go by. A different nurse comes in to take my vitals.
Nurse: How are you doing?
Me: Awful.
Nurse: "oh?"
Me:" Yeah....I've been waiting hours for a hygiene kit for that breast pump over there, and I'm getting quite uncomfortable."
Nurse: "Oh, I'll see what I can do."
I think it was close to 1:00am when there was quite a kerfuffle outside my room about waiting and waiting and who was the charge nurse? etc. etc. FINALLY---the hygiene kit.
Finally relief.
Oh, how I love morning rounds. 8 doctors staring. One is repeating everything the head doctor says into a recorder---how sweet. Head doctor charges in, sees the breast pump and says, "WHAT'S THAT?" (I refrained from saying, "1 pump, breast")
"um, a breast pump." (I don't think they teach this portion in medical training anymore.)
"oh, it looks like it's from 1950."
"Yeah, it probably is."
The next day I got to sit up and eat something. The food wasn't fit for dogs. (I think that was a Blair Ballard moment) One day they brought my tray and it was still frozen. Frozen square of meatloaf (?) and mashed potatoes. I can't wait until they bring me the comment card!
I was still in a lot of pain, the nurses were extremely strict about giving out the paid meds I think they thought I was some kind of narcotic junkie because I kept asking for more. Finally they brought the nurse practitioner in. The one who said she'd tell them about the pump and try to get me a private room. She prescribed some Motrin. OH FINALLY!!!! Sweet relief.
My nurse this day was kind of a bull in a china shop. She knocked things all over, couldn't work the bed, she actually broke the phone in my room.
I was finally able to get up and down and out of bed. I even went to the bathroom by myself! Finally some long awaited dignity. By the end of the day they were able to discharge me and the nurse brought in a new phone...I said, "I think the old one is fixable you just need to pop the top back onto the receiver,"
"Oh no, they'll just throw it away."
"Really, that seems like such a waste."
"that's your tax dollars at work."
"Can I keep it, like a souvenir?"
"sure." So she packed it up in the new phone's packaging and put it in my bag.
The only highlights of the stay were visits from wonderful family and friends. The rest of it, after this documentation, will hopefully be blocked out.
Once I returned home (Friday night) I was feeling pretty good. By Sunday I was able to get up and around pretty well. Monday I felt okay, Tuesday I was improving, I had some numbness in my rear-end which I figured was normal. Wednesday we went to Music in the Park...what fun! I just sat in the chair, but I still enjoyed it. Wednesday night my legs and rear-end were still somewhat numb again...Thursday morning I felt okay and went to play group, again, just sat in the chair but by Thursday night the leg pain was worsening. I called the Dr. He said it was normal and to ice it. Pain worsened, called Dr. He said it was normal and not to worry unless I started having problems urinating or having a bowel movement. Friday night I was alright, not great, but alright. I did have Missi and Wendy there to take my mind off of it. By Saturday the pain was getting pretty intense. I called the Dr. He said not to worry, this was normal. I laid on the couch and cried. Sunday still a lot of pain. Called the Dr. again, he said to come in and have another MRI just to make sure everything is alright but surely I should be getting better and not worse. I could barely walk at this point. I went in to the ER at UofM Sunday night about 9:30. Had the MRI about 3:00am Monday morning. When I got back they gave me a shot of morphine and I finally felt a little better and was able to get some sleep. Turns out that the scar tissue is causing my nerves to be inflamed so they prescribed some Steroids. Great, just what I need, 'roid rage. I was able to leave about 8:00am. My sweet sister sat by my side throughout the whole thing. I'm so blessed to have her.
I'm feeling a little better now. Maybe life will get back to normal soon. As soon as I can hold Lucy. It's been really hard for me and her. I try to rock her sometimes and get her to lay with me on the couch. She's such a trooper for handling all these changes so well. She loves having Emily here to play, and so do I! Emily knows just what to do with her and Lucy just adores her.
I have a lot more cute pictures of Lucy to post---maybe later I'll get to her 8 month post. This is all I can do for now. I am so so grateful for all the service, gifts, meals and love that have been and will be given on our behalf. I couldn't have gotten through it without fantastic family and friends and a truly wonderful ward.
