Post Surgery - LFD

LONG F******G DAY!

Yesterday I was up at 6ish and got ready to go to the hospital for my hernia surgery - Jen got up later (still pretty early for her). We arrived at 7:45 a.m. and started the pre-op routine. The last time I had an admission to the hospital was back in 1995 for a torn ACL. That's also the last time I had to fill a prescription.

I love the gown - you know open back and all. The fact that they have the rooms at 55 degrees F and have you take all of your clothes off and put on a paper thin, cotton, open-backed gown should give you a clue that this experience is not about your comfort:)

Funny things that happened:
1. The nurse came out and called for "Patel" instead of "Peter" - that got me concerned. After this I double checked that they had me there for a hernia operation NOT open heart surgery or amputation.
2. They had me write "yes" on my right thigh with indelible ink so that they would not cut the wrong side. The "Y" is still there.
3. As I was waiting in the pre-op "cubby" room (a room with three solid sides and the front with draw curtain on it), a family came down the hall and one member walked into my "cubby" and didn't notice that I was not the person they came to see. THAT was embarrassing for them. She realized I wasn't her sister, mumbled something and walked down the hall. Her other two family members just broke out in laughter.
4. On their way out back past me I called out, "didn't you want to stop in any see me on the way out?" - they laughed nervously and sped up
5. The nurse kept talking about giving me "happy juice" - she was all about the "happy juice". In fact, since they were running late I had to ask her to HOLD OFF on the "happy juice" until later. I think she wanted to see if I would say anything stupid while I was "happy"
The operating rooms were backed up a bit and my 9:45 surgery time came and went. I can't tell you exactly what time I actually went to the operating room since the "happy juice" had begun to take effect - I think that it was close to 11 a.m. (Jen will give me the correct time on this once she reads the blog).

I woke in recovery - I use the term "woke" loosely. Faded in is a better term. I was getting all sorts of attention from sweet talking southern nurses when I realized that everyone left me and ran across the room. Later Jen tells me that someone was in for rotator cuff surgery and they had a heart attack DURING the surgery. Those of you who know Jen, know that I was glad that I was out of surgery when she heard about that incident. I hope everything turned out o.k. for that person and his family. We didn't hear anything else.

I can't remember what time I came out of surgery - I will guess it was close to 12 noon. Jen was allowed to come back at around 1:30. My throat hurt from the intubation and I my back was sore. I have a 3 inch incision running north and south on my lower right abdomen (I was going to post a picture but that would be too gross). There are no sutures, no bandages, no dressing. The incision is closed with dermabond, very cool stuff that is basically super glue for incisions and wounds.

The good news was that I didn't throw up (or remember throwing up). Now came the great part - all I had to do was pee and I could go home! I tried and tried, and tried, and tried. NO LUCK. In fact, I tried so much that the people in the recovery area to the left of me were cheering me on and very interested in my progress (Later Jen told me that the husband asked if I had had prostate surgery since he was possibly facing some in the future).

Well, as you can guess, something happens to one's bladder when they play with your "chitlin's". There was swelling of one sort or another and I had the URGE to pee, I just didn't possess the ABILITY to go. I heard the words that strike fear onto the heart of any man - catheter.

The thought of a tube going in where things should only go out, particularly that part of one's anatomy, and the whole process being done by a female nurse brings all sorts of potential problematic issues to the conscious mind. My answer was to shuffle off to the bathroom yet one more time telling Jen that I was locking the door and not coming back until I had gone (or that I may even lie about it - on the heels of that thought, as if she knew my intent, the nurse called out "don't flush, I have to make sure").

Sadly, I was unsuccessful and as I returned to the bed I saw the catheter kit on the table. I won't detail the process and experience but I was relieved - in more ways than the obvious pressure on my bladder - once the procedure was over.

That being finished I was released to go home - it was now close to 5 p.m. One last note from the hospital. In the recovery bay next to mine (not the guy with the prostate concerns, but the one on my right) I heard a young girl crying. I asked the nurse what was going on and she told me that the Mom had had knee surgery and was having a hard time with recovery - vomiting, pain, etc.

I then asked if Jen and I could pray with them. The nurse asked and they said yes. After apologizing to the daughter for my "death breath" we prayed for God's peace to come on the daughter and for the Mom to be comforted. I love that kind of thing. "Let Your Kingdom come, Lord." Great prayer when you don't know what to pray.

We returned home and I rested - my plumbing is still off. I was up every hour last night TRYING to pee and accomplishing little. Things are better this morning and I hope to be back to normal by the end of the day.

I have showered, had a cup of coffee, and a vicodin. Now to REST today. A hard thing for me to do. As you can tell by the length of the entry, I already have way too much time on my hands.

WH