I made it through my first week post-hysterectomy! That probably sounds dramatic, but to say it has been a bumpy ride would be an understatement. Let me catch you up. I actually debated going all the way back to my teen years and everything that led up to my surgery, but I don't think people need that much detail, honestly. If you want the how and why, let me know.
I have been dealing with debilitating menstrual cycles for 22 years. Unbearable cramps that require codeine to even touch them, and extensive blood loss (sorry TMI) that prevented me from leaving the house for two days a month. Also, I was still taking birth control for hormonal symptoms, even though I had been sterilized during my last c-section. I know that there are risks associated with birth control, and after being on them for almost 22 years straight, I knew it was time to come off them.
Unfortunately, as debilitating as my cycles were on birth control, they were infinitely worse off, and I had tested this a few times over the years, so just coming off wasn't a possibility for me. So in 2023, I saw another gynaecologist to discuss my options. Thankfully, he agreed to a hysterectomy, after some incredibly invasive testing (wow, uterine biopsies hurt). It was scheduled for early December 2023, and I started prepping. Because I've already had five abdominal surgeries, I wasn't at all concerned about the surgery... maybe that was my first mistake.
As many of you know, I did not in fact have my surgery in December 2023. When I went to my pre-op appointment just a few days before, my anesthesiologist refused to touch me because of the combination of my POTS and my Chiari Malformation, which at the time I had not yet seen a neurologist about. I won't bore you with the exact details, but I did appreciate his apprehension and concern for my well-being.
It took me til spring 2024 to see a neuro, who had no concerns about my having the surgery and signed off on it immediately. Finally, after a hectic few seasons of selling our house and moving, I had my surgery last week, on October 23, 2024. Everything went smoothly, apparently. My surgeon came to see me after and said everything went great, and my ovaries were healthy so they left them in–there are many reasons why this is beneficial for most people, though in my case I wanted them out, so that was a bummer.
I was given medication for post-operative nausea before my surgery so that I didn't really experience much after, although I did have them dose me up before the 45 minute car ride home, just in case. I did experience a fair amount of pain in recovery, and not in the places I expected. They had me on morphine, as is typical for my surgeries, because I can't take anything oxy-related, and it did help.
I felt pretty rough when we got home, but once I got settled in my own bed with my heating pad and had some more medication, I was doing ok. Until I checked my incisions around 8pm to find my belly button full of blood and my steri strips falling off due to being wet. I called Jesse in and he looked panicked as he told me that my belly button incision was completely open. Upon further investigation we deduced that they had only put two stitches in the largest incision on me, and one of those two stitches had been put through an old belly button piercing hole, which I had stopped wearing years ago because the skin had become so thin it was about to tear out. So what did the stitch do? Tore right through it.
At this point Jesse started calling the hospital where I'd had my surgery done, 45 minutes away from home near our old house, and they let him know that I had to go to the ER to have it restitched. He then called our local hospital to see if they could do it, and they said yes, but it would be a long wait. We didn't want to have a 45 minute drive each way, plus a wait, so we took our chances at the local hospital.
We spent nine hours in a waiting room full of people coughing and puking and listening to their phones with no earbuds, waiting for me to get stitched up. It wasn't until over seven hours in when Jesse demanded some help, that they got me a stretcher so I could lay down in the hallway. The ER doctor was great, despite being completely overworked, and he could not believe his eyes when he saw my incision. He froze me ouch, and then put four new stitches in, for a total of five.
Did I mention that I'm being evaluated for EDS, and one of the treatment standards is to throw extra stitches, not less than normal? Clearly my surgeon didn't get the memo, despite it being in the notes from my pre-op appointment, yes, I checked.
After multiple emotional meltdowns, nine painful hours, and anxiety about us bringing something worse than stitches home from the ER with us, we finally got to bed at 5am. Despite expecting the worst, and only getting a few hours sleep, I actually felt pretty good on Thursday, despite a slight cold from one of my children. It was a brief glimmer of hope after an awful day. Unfortunately, it didn't last.
I know that typically day three is the worst day post-surgery, so I expected Friday to be rough. However, after a really great sleep, I woke up feeling hopeful! My throat was pretty sore from the cold and/or the tube in my throat, but otherwise not too shabby. By midday however, I was feeling awful. Sick and in pain. It was a crummy day, but I kept telling myself that day three is the worst, and tomorrow would be better. Thankfully, I was right.
Saturday I took a shower and put my belly compression wrap on (something the hospital should give you, but doesn't), and it made me feel like a brand new human. I was able to get up and move around a bit more, while still being very mindful of my body, and taking my meds on schedule. I didn't have nay naps for the first time since the surgery, but for some reason could not sleep for the life of me that night. I watched about eight episodes of CSI instead.
Sunday too I was feeling good, for a while, but wouldn't you know it, when I took my steri-strips off before my shower (because my surgeon instructed me to remove them on day five), I discovered that another incision was completely open. At this point I was so perturbed that I didn't even know what to say. By midday my body decided to hit me with a chronic illness flare, so with the surgical discomfort, the sore throat, and then the flare I was preeeety miserable.
Monday my surgical recovery was feeling better, but I was diagnosed with strep throat. LOL. My body is literally betraying me at every turn. My family doctor prescribed me antibiotics, and advised me on wound care for the newly discovered open incision. We also walked through the surgical report and some questions I had. He continues to be a literal lifesaver for me through each and every medical trial and tribulation. I am so grateful for him.
Thankfully, by Tuesday (yesterday), I was feeling quite good. I still was taking care to rest and medicate as needed, but I was finally able to be up and about, and I even ran a quick errand. Wednesday, one week post-op, I was feeling pretty close to normal, surgical wise. Of course, I was still being cautious when changing position so as not to hurt my stitched together abdominal muscles, and my re-stitched belly button incision is still pretty bruised and sore, but overall I felt good.
Today, Samhain, the Witches' New Year, Halloween, I feel about the same, but I'm starting to get very annoyed that my throat is still sore! It's been over a week and I'm on antibiotics. Come onnnn. This is a bizarre time to make this post, as it's a sabbat and I should be doing sabbat things, but I didn't want to end the month without getting another blog up, so here we are. I am excited to be healing, I am hopeful my sore throat will eventually go away, and I am looking forward to starting the new year (for us Pagans) on a path to a healthier body and mind. Wish me luck!
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