Sometimes you just know.

I had my first post-op appointment on the 29th. I was so relieved to get away from the damned foley! I asked my doc if he meant to send me away with no antibiotics, and he said yes. I had no idea that my troubles were just starting.

Two days later, it dawned on me that the reason my tummy felt so corrugated was because I had new stretch marks....hmmm. Wednesday saw me in the ER, with an infection so large it had to find a way out. I'd sprung a leak.

After two days in the hospital, I came home to a lot of really kind messages, and great mail. Thanks to all of you for your thoughtfulness. I'm not sure where this puts me for the rest of the month, but hopefully, it will all be on the uptick.

I smell like the subway. Or a show barn.

I'm up early today. The toaster oven is on, and I have a date with the Gorton's Fisherman in about 20 minutes.

I have to go to the doc's today, and I am anxious. I have a few things to ask him, one being "Did you mean to send me home with no antibiotics?" Let's just say I DON'T feel the greatest. My staples still catch fire.

This catheter business has got to go. Last Friday, before DH busted me out of the hospital, one of the nurses sat down with me, and showed me how to remove the cable structure from mine, to replace it with a new one. She bundled up a new Foley kit, and away I went.

A few nights ago, I broke out the new kit. 'Professionals should empty bag,' proclaim the nice people from Bard. There are many patient advisories all throughout the package. One thing I DON'T find is a pictogram on how to switch out assemblies. (I KNOW it isn't shop class, allright?)

It occurs to me to wonder who gives drugged out women instructions on how to empty and swap out their own catheters before sending them home for a week. And I realize that I break the sterile seal by switching assembly A to the business that's hanging out of my underpants. According to the advice given to me by my medical professional.

Sigh.

I know it's not optimum. I know it's not even close. I'm not leaving the doc's until I can leave the foley assembly in his trash. THAT I know.

On the plus side, I haven't had to cook or clean house all week. My DH has done a decent job, and I can't complain, but will anyhow. He made fishsticks last night (I know, I wanted more when I got up) and was looking for tongs to flip them. Unless they are totally DONE, that's a sure way to have them fall apart.

He watches far too much TV. Just get a spatula and flip them already, mmkay? He did a little foot stomp, and found a spatula. I think I messed with his inner Betty Crocker.

Wish me luck today.

Finishing some details, and how to get ready for a hysterectomy

I started this top in June, used 4 balls of Paton's Katrina, and finally finished it this weekend. There was a long long lag because I mislaid a ball of yarn. I'd try it on, but I am so puffy from surgery still, there would be no point. Yardage 652.

I decided to write out the basic commandments of hysterectomy; because this is yet another topic that NO ONE TALKS about. My cousins will have this in a few-Karen in a few months, Judy in a year or two, Kathleen too ...and possibly my nieces. So here goes-

1) Buy a body pillow. And keep an extra pillow around, because it hurts when you laugh or cough (and of course it is high allergen season for me). Hug the small pillow when you have to laugh or cough-it helps.

2) Gas hurts too. Badly. Plan your diet accordingly. The crazy people gave me broccoli and milk in the hospital! ;-)

3) Plan your aftercare for the worst possible scenario. I thought mine would not go well, and I was right, but I didn't have enough info to plan for THAT. The worst scenario is that you won't drive for three weeks, and the you should count on reclusive rest for a week. Why a week? Because one of the worst scenarios is that they'll nick your bladder while doing your surgery-this has me on a foley for a week so the nick can heal!

a) Shop to fully stock your pantry-and try to have seven frozen easy meals when you leave for the hospital. That "easy meals for a week" will save you from cooking while dragging a catheter. After hospital food so bad my DH laughed looking at it, it was nice that I could tell him how to thaw and bake dinner. And it was sooooo much tastier. If food and groceries aren't your area of expertise, make sure you thank your friend or S/O for the lovely dinner!

b) Find the long barbecue tongs and have them at the ready-bending is tricky for the first few days; the subscription cards from magazines, vitamins you spill, and all kinds of stuff will be easier to retrieve. Put a trash basket by your cocoon spot.

c) What do you wear? You want a knee length gown with IV friendly sleeves for the hospital-and knee length gowns for the recluse week. Yoga pants are good, except if you are a lucky catheter winner. Stuff with elastic waists are good-I'm wearing elastic waist shorts right now. Roomy grannie panties are spot on, too.

4) Use the scented soap you love, and buy a pack of hypoallergenic baby wipes. Be kind to yourself.

5) Get a pedi and a haircut. That helps a lot.

6) Make an activity box before you go in. I rounded up my projects and equipment I need to work while I am at home. I didn't choose challenging projects-I don't think my concentration will be much for the week. I also saved catalogs and the like as hospital reading material.

7) Make people help you. I can fold and sort clothes, but I made DH wash and dry, and pull all the clean laundry to a central pile, because my reach is stunted, and I am not supposed to lift.

8) Take your iron beforehand, and corral your meds. I was anemic in September, and had just rounded the corner with a hemoglobin of 10 when I went into surgery-taking 650 mgs each day. My levels plummeted to the sixes and I ended up having a transfusion. Now that I am home again, the sinus meds, the vitamins, the iron, the pain killers (2!) the horomones, and all the other crap live in one spot-and I just build a candy dish of drugs each morning. When the dish is empty, I have taken everything I was supposed to.

I'll be adding to the list as I think of things.

SisterWrecktomy

ooof.

It is a God given fact that if you load the dishwasher on Wednesday, and go in for surgery, no one will hit 'start' til you come home. Dishes will be in the sink too.

People talk about "good drugs" after surgery. Psssh. I'm supposed to take mine every 4-6 hours for pain. What that really means is, take the motrin first, then the good stuff. Sleep for 6 hours. Staples 'catch fire'. Repeat.

If the doc wants you on bedrest, he'll leave the catheter in. Jerk.

Husbands will confuse your "I don't feel well" face with a "You are an idiot" face. Can't help that. Pick the one you like, and go with that one, mmm kay?

My girlybits were a mess, apparently, I had fibroids on fibroids, so he started out doing a laproscopic surgery, looked around, and just got his butt kicked. Go me.

I lost exactly zero ounces, and my tummy is so puffy, it looks the same as when I went in.

I had to have a transfusion.

And I can't drive for 3 weeks.

Boooo.