I'm not going to say "and a success" just yet for two reasons...
1) My gall bladder was VERY swollen/inflamed and when the surgeon had finally cut thru all the scar tissue/connective adhesions my body had produced over the years trying to wall it off (which is what a healthy immune system is supposed to do and my immune system is apparently top notch/super effective/did it's job almost TOO well!) and tried to grab it to start removing it, it burst and a "whole bunch of pus came out" and they had to flush me three times with saline to make sure they got all the "messy" stuff out. One of the nastiest operations he's had to do and all the nurses knew of me... I was the "nasty gall bladder operation patient, the messy one, and the second worst gall bladder the doctor has operated on", the first being connected to that patient's liver where mine was just connected to everything else but the liver. Small things can be massively good things. So they kept me over night to monitor me for signs of infection, intravenously gave me aggressive antibiotics, and took bloodwork in the morning. I am on an antibiotic regimen for the next seven days. Once I've been cleared of having any infection, then I will label the surgery successful.
2) Also waiting for my post-surgical check-up appointment which is on the 18th. Really, I have to wait for the doctor to give me the "successful" word.
Last night I found that I seem to have developed small itchy bumps on my abdominal region. I'm wondering if it has anything to do with what the OR staff swabbed on me before cutting me open, I could be sensitive to it. I'm not going to worry as the itching is not constant, the bumps are small, seems to not be getting worse, and some of them are going away. I've got a wicked bruise on my side from the last of my heparin shots, the two in my belly weren't bad but the last one was a doozy, burned and stung for about 5 min afterwards and Lman noticed the bruise yesterday, same place as the last shot. I wasn't able to take a shower until yesterday. God was I icky. It wasn't so bad the afternoon after the surgery but the next day, my hair was crispy, I was itchy, dying to put some deodorant and underwear on, and by the time the Lman had come to get me, the washcloth bath (most of which was administered by me, the nurse did my back) was ridiculously ineffective (just made me itchier) but I finally got to have undies/deodorant on. By the evening of the 8th and the morning of the 9th, my hair was the consistency of bacon grease. Thankfully Lman said I was still beautiful to him: greasy hair, "pink belly" (that's what he calls my poor twice-operated-on abdomen), and all.
I certainly had to face my "modesty" issues this time around. The nurses all saw my butt numerous times whenever I exited the bed to use the bathroom, they needed to escort me so that my IV came with me/that I didn't fall and nicely made sure my backside was properly covered, but still! They also had to note "how much urine I produced" which is a nice way of saying they needed to see my pee every time. And one nurse liked my productivity so much she kept giving me "high fives". And we are not going to talk about the gas. Let's just say I'm GLAD my roommate was deaf.
Speaking of my roommate... I don't want to give the impression that I wasn't empathetic to her situation - she was in a bad state: has been thru 3 different cancers, on her fourth, just had a kidney removed, gout in her toe, obese, all her extremities were swollen due to retaining water, she was unable to move herself without assistance, partially deaf, gassy, and the afternoon I had been put in her room, they removed her to do an ultrasound and found a blood clot in her leg. So, yeah, in a bad state, but my God was she uber-annoying. When I was telling my mom about her, Mom reminded me of Gramma. That's why it felt so familiar but so annoying at the same time. My roommate had her TV on the ENTIRE time on Talk TV (inflammatory Fox news shit) similar to Talk Radio (just like Gramma) which is highly highly irritating to me, the only time she turned it off was when the hospital doobies were with her. She talked very loudly: I got to vicariously participate in her conversation (obviously while the TV was still on) with her two daughters about the fact she hasn't "pooed" in 2-3 days, how the "urge" left her every time the nurses got her and the bedpan positioned (which by the way she tried twice, I was mortified she was going to take a shit with me in the room to share the joy with her, albeit separated by a curtain but that curtain wasn't going to do much to keep the 2-3 day stench away if she had taken one, thank God she didn't), her daughters' suggestion to the hospital staff of filling their mother up with "the recipe" consisting of warmed prune juice, applesauce, and some other ingredient that my mind has since blocked out (I was thinking the whole time they damn well better not fill her up with that, I didn't want to hear or smell the result), and finally the use of diapers (which is what I was secretly rooting for). Her daughters left and then her son came at 9pm (after visiting hours were over I believe because I heard an announcement before he came asking all visitors to start leaving and this was around 8pm). She talked loudly to him with the TV on for about an hour, so loudly I kept having to turn my TV volume up because I couldn't hear it. Roomie kept her TV on until 1:30-2am with what must have been some Gadawful black+white movie from the 30's or 40's that was a "real people" version of the Jungle Book complete with non-stop screaming, howling, growling, roaring, yelling, hissing, and numerous crowd scenes. When the night nurse came to check my vitals, I'd had it, just had it coz it had been going on for a f-in' hour and a half. When she asked me how I was doing, I was very frank with her - I hadn't slept the night before due to nerves, I was extremely tired, and was sorry to have to complain about the TV noise but I couldn't take anymore and was becoming extremely cranky. The nurse escorted me to the bathroom and while I was in there, she approached my Roomie with headphones. Blessed peace. I was able to doze on and off the rest of the night and didn't watch the clock anymore until the sky lightened outside. Whew. Then it turns out that my Roomie was offended that I said something, I "heard" her say something to the morning nurse and her daughter who came in later. Oh well, as my mom said, when someone is partially deaf they think everyone else is too and keep it loud. I didn't care, I was leaving anyway.
I'm home: having trouble sleeping as I am normally a tummy sleeper and having to sleep in an elevated back position is quite frankly pissing me off and making my shoulder blades ache like the frickin' dickens but I'm happy to report I'm off the Vicoden and just taking Tylenol Extra Strength now. I was given stool softener advice because the narcotic in the Vicoden can result in constipation so I really wanted to stop it as soon as I could because... TMI here, some of you may want to look away: between Auntie M (who thankfully held off until yesterday to arrive, I was so worried she'd come the day of surgery or while I was in the hospital going commando in their ridonkulous johnnies) and the antibiotics, I should be having the Big D, which I did finally yesterday night so I am not going to end up like my ex-Roomie. As Lman said "I have a lot going on down there."
I'm thankful
1) the surgeon was able to remove it laproscopically, I can deal with 3 new holes and a new two inch "smile" added to my belly button.
2) I'm home.
3) I have wonderfully caring people supporting me.
4) I pooped.
5) recovery seems to be moving along like it's supposed to.
And my kitties are very happy to see me. Plethora of purrs for me.
