Sunday 4 March 2012

Operation and Recovery

Waking up the morning of my operation, I feel nervous. The surgeon arrives early to discuss the procedure again. It's simple. Cut me open, push the stomas inside and re-join. It doesn't seem that simple though when the surgeon explains that due to the mass infection last time, there is a very high risk of bleeding, leaking and other serious complications. I know that they need to tell you, but 2-3 hours before the op is concerning to me. He tells me also that he will use different "special" sutures this time round which will be better cosmetically and for future pregnancy. I have no idea what to expect but assume that I would not have 61 staples this time.

The Aneasthetist arrives to discuss pain relief. I've already read in my information about epidural and can tell you, there was no way in hell I was having one. He recommended it immediately and I responded with a firm no. I explained that I had been scarred for life following a lumbar puncture at the age of 19. He then advised me that having the epidural would be the next best thing to not even knowing i'd had an operation. It would make me feel very numb and would make mobility for the next couple of days very easy, whereas the morphine would possibly make me feel sick, queasy and perhaps still in pain. It wouldn't feel anywhere near as bad as the lumbar puncture as the needle wouldn't be going into the spinal fluid space. I agreed with nervousness to go ahead.

Being taken down to theatre I think I became more nervous about the epidural than the operation itself. The surgeon came to see me on his was through and a simple hold of my feet on the bed was the little reassurance I was looking for. The epidural actually felt ok - when I say ok, I mean ok. It wasn't pleasant in any way shape or form. It was extremely uncomfortable but not painful. However as he was completing the final stages of this, I was starting to feel feint. My palms were sweating and I wasn't sure if I would be able to take any more. Thankfully he had finished inserting it and decided to lay me on the bed as quickly as possible and give me some anti-sickness through IV. As the heart pads were placed on my chest I knew it was time and a minute later around 10:25am I was under general.

I remember waking in recovery around 2:10pm. I wasn't expecting it to have taken so long but perhaps there had been a problem? Had they managed to join me back together? I didn't even have time to ask as pain swept through my body like someone was stabbing me repeatedly. At the same time it felt like I had something in my eye. I couldn't stop playing with it. A nurse was with me, telling me to calm down and be quiet and that the epidural would be working. I think she was implying that I was imagining the pain due to the panic of waking from the anaesthetic. I told her I was in pain and after 15 minutes or so of this continuing, she went on a break. I could see the other nurses nearby and not long after my nurse went out of the room, one was over to see why I was making such a fuss. She understood straight away that I was in pain. Moments later they were pumping morphine into me to help and at the same time, they were rolling cold things up my legs - I felt everything and shouldn't have felt a thing. Looking at my eye, it seemed that there was nothing there but it was driving me insane.

The next few hours were a blur. Jodi's Mum came to visit and used saline to wash out my eye. Nothing helped and it became clear that while my eyes were taped shut, an eyelash must have gone into my eye and scratched it. I slept for a little while and when I awoke, I could still feel it, but it was much improved. I had during this time been informed that my operation was a success.

I couldn't work out why I was hurting so high up. The surgeon came to visit Saturday morning and he explained that for better access, I had been cut higher up. It wasn't until the Nurse changed the dressings, that I realised how high it was. I had 2 2" scars which were sutured and then a large 10" vertical would which had been closed with steri strips.

I felt awful every day I was in hospital. Sick, dizzy, feint. I couldn't wait to leave and wanted to be home. The consultant had said perhaps Tuesday for discharge but when it came, he wasn't happy to let me go as i'd had a bad 24 hours of feeling sick and having high temperatures. I was finally discharged on Wednesday 22nd February. I wasn't feeling well but I had to get out of there, so I didn't say anything.

Apparently my recovery would be easier this time round. I can only say no to that. I think because I had Lola and Lukas to think about last time round, I didn't notice how sick I was. This time I found the pain excrutiating. I'm aware that I have been much more mobile whilst in hospital this time due to not having the infection but that is the only thing. In August 2011, I didn't care. I just wanted my babies. I still want them now and want them with me 24/7.

I've been writing this blog post for several days now. I'm now starting to notice big differences in recovery. Since Friday 2nd March, i've noticed an improvement in mobility. I've been speaking with a wonderful lady in Canada who is in a similar situation. Although she wasn't pregnant, she too had a ruptured appendix and has an ileostomy which she is hopefully having reversed tomorrow (5th) and I wish her all the luck in the world.



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