World of Hurt

This is my "not happy" face

I went back to Dr. Sleeper for my second post-op appointment today.  It was bittersweet for several reasons:  first of all, I am in a world of ouch.  I have been sleeping on the couch (I’m using “sleeping” very, very, very loosely here, as I don’t really sleep more than an hour or two at a time).  Sleeping involves sitting in an upright position while balancing precariously on my left side avoiding my drain site (which still throbs like a mutha).  After a week of sleeping this way, I’ve managed to screw up my back and neck, both of which are in constant spasm.  Joy!  I am now dealing with back pain, neck pain, drain site pain, oh, and let’s not forget the 18-inch incisions down the center of me. 

Oh what I do to be beautiful… oh at least not gelatinous.

I knew when I was going in that he was not going to remove my drain.  The “rule” is that in order to have the drain removed, you should only be draining 30 ccs every 24 hours.  Ha!  The last 24 hours were the lightest so far (“light days?”  Am I in a panty liner commercial?) and I was well over 125 ccs. Yeah, they were not going to simply waive those 85 ccs.  The drain was staying.  F*ck, f*ck,  f*ck,!

This what I imagine when she said "dig a hole" :(

I was told that this was a GOOD thing, that since they removed massive amounts of gelatinous fat and skin from my torso, I’m bleeding internally like a stuck pig, and it’s better out than in (gross.)  I was also told by my nurse (not Keith this time, bummer, but a super nice Bosnian nursing student from MV… I should have told her about my way hip but

My Bosnian slippers (note the compression socks underneath)

oh-so warm Bosnian slippers that my former student’s mom had made for me.  Alas, I did not) that it is better that I leave the drain in for as long as it is draining because if I DIDN’T, and they would have to “DIG A HOLE” (her exact words) in my stomach to remove the excess fluid.  Um, no.  I will stay with the drain, even though I loathe it and it hurts! 

So the nurse cleaned it up and put a new waterproof bandage on it.  She gave me some suggestions on how to hide the bulbous grenade that is my handing drain (lucky me, everything I own is baggy).  We scheduled an appointment for Friday… fingers are crossed.  I really don’t want to go to the family’s annual post-Christmas party in Point Pleasant, New Jersey having to empty the drainage tube every few hours OR having to hide it from my Gram (who, by the way, does not know I had this surgery.  When I told her months ago that I wanted to have it, she forbid, that’s right, FORBID, be to have surgery to undo how God made me – her paraphrase.  I did not have the heart to tell her that years of bad eating and not enough exercise made me fat, NOT GOD!  But I digress…)

Dr. Sleeper asked me if I was resting.  I told him about my couch potato status. 

This is me, minus the purple couch

“Walk around a little bit,” he told me. 

“What about sit ups?  Should I be doing sit ups?”

He looked at me, obviously not getting the fact that I was joking.  “If you do sit ups you will never heal!”

Um, joke’s on you, Dr. Sleeper.  I’ve never done a sit up in my LIFE, so there!

Keith, my hero, gave me another binder because my incisions are so long that I need to wear TWO in order to cover it all.  Yeah, I am a sausage.

Please know that I am not a drug user or abuser, but pain killers were my best friends last week, and now that we are torn apart, I miss them.  I explained to the nurse, Keith, and Dr. Sleeper that I am living in Painsville, USA, since my hydrocodone script is finished.  Their response:  too bad, so sad, sister soul.  Tylenol.  4000 milligrams a day  That’s it.  Here’s a haiku I’ve written:

Monday:  tummy tuck

But now the pain meds are gone

Tylenol?  Yeah, right.

Or another one:

No hydrocodone

Tylenol is like blowing

Kisses on boo boos

Or simply:

Can’t cough, can’t sneeze, ouch

Back hurts, neck hurts, cuts hurt, ouch

Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch.

I’m sorry to complain.  No, really I’m not.  I hurt.  I’m cranky.  My incisions seriously feel like boiling water is being poured on my hips.  Yes, my hips are where it hurts the most because they are boney and there is very little fat between the bone and my incision.  Every turn I make in the “bed” (read:  sitting up on the couch) brings new pain.  Not moving also brings throbbing pain.

I shouldn’t complain.  This was elective surgery.  This wasn’t to save my life.  This was to save my ego. I shouldn’t complain, but I am.  

Did I mention I hurt?