Before the Vicodin Kicks In...

I got the call on Wednesday. My surgery was scheduled for 11:30 am on Thursday. An answer to prayer, my mom said, since that meant no one had to get up early to get me to the hospital and I could take my time getting Molly off to school and saying goodbye to the kids. I spent Wednesday night in the bathroom cleansing my colon. Not a fun experience, but it was still a lot better than what I was expecting. I slept through most of the digestive process so I never puked. Thank you, God! And I'd been given medication to keep cramping at a minimum, so all in all, it really wasn't that bad.
I got up Thursday, took a bath, packed my bags, said bye to my kids and my mama and off we went. I was admitted and taken to my pre-op room fairly quickly, but after that things were VERY slow. Over the next 3 1/2 hours the nurses checked my history, did some labs, started my IV, all those sorts of things, but there was an emergency that called my doctor away, so my surgery didn't actually start until closer to 3:00 in the afternoon.
It was supposed to be an hour long procedure, but it ended up being closer to two hours. The actual hysterectomy went well, with no complications but there was a lot of clean up to do. The endometriosis had spread everywhere and there were a lot of adhesions, especially on my bladder, that had to be scraped off. My doctor said that by the end he actually had a hard time finding enough good tissue to close me up.
I woke up somewhere around 4:30. For the next six hours I was in my own personal hell. Because I'm allergic to so many pain medications, the staff was having a hard time getting my pain under control. At first they ordered something I was allergic to and when they realized that they couldn't give that to me it took a very long time to get approval for something else. I've never been in so much pain in my life. Previously I'd say my kidney stone was the worst pain ever - the only other pain I've actually writhed on the bed begging for help with. This pain was worse. It encompassed my entire torso - a sort of burning, aching, throbbing pain that didn't go away no matter what I did. It was impossible for me to hold still. I remember begging for medication, for some relief, but it took a very long time.
It was about 10:30 pm before I was finally given Toradol and Vicodin and they kicked in. After that I slept again, for a long time, waking up only when the nurses came in to check my vitals.
By morning the difference was extreme. By mid-morning I was out of bed, got dressed and cleaned up my room - made my own bed. :) And was more than ready to go home.
Since I've been home my pain has been under control. I've been amazed at how little I've had, actually. The doctors were very adamant about my taking things easy, though. My insides are held together with less than sturdy sutures and it wouldn't take much stress to pop them open. Four weeks. Four weeks without picking up my kids, lifting anything more than 10 pounds, vacuuming, reaching, stretching, exercising... I'm not sure how that's going to be possible.
The vicodin has kicked in. I can't think anymore...