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The Hysterectomy Chronicles: Part 5 - Recovery

The best advice anyone gave me about recovering from abdominal surgery came from my cousin Tricia: pillows. Have one with you at all times and hold it against your belly when you walk, laugh, any time you move basically. Have several more in bed to prop you up from all sides plus one under your knees when you’re sleeping. By god it works!

The second best piece of advice I received is to walk, walk, walk your little buns off. In fact, I didn't do enough of it. Walking gets your circulation going and helps prevent blood clots, pneumonia, constipation, and other horrors. It also subtly works your stomach muscles, gradually making it easier to do things like get out of bed, bend over, sit down and stand up, put your pants on one leg at a time, and wash your hair in the shower. All sorts of things you used to take for granted. My first twenty-four hours at home were surreal. I expected to be immobile but I was getting in and out of bed by myself from the start, mainly to pee. God I missed that catheter. Getting up hurt like hell. I eventually mastered rolling onto my side and pushing myself up to a sitting position with my bottom arm. Once I made sure my internal organs were where they were supposed to be, I stood up with the pillow held against my stomach and went on my merry way...teeth gritted if it was nearing time for another pain pill. I never did come up with a satisfactory solution for getting back into bed. Once I was there and settled, however, I didn't much care. Bring on the Vicoden and turn out the lights!

My sister Kate stayed with me my first week home and I highly recommend having a caregiver, regardless of how self-sufficient you may feel. Abdominal surgery is not for sissies. Sure, you may be able to get in and out of bed by yourself. And yes, you can keep all your meds by your bed and set the alarm to remind you to take them. But being alone is for healthy people, and even they don't much like it most of the time. When you are down, you need your peeps around you. I didn't always think this way. In fact, I didn't think it my first four days at home until Kate told me I was doing so well she thought she might as well go home. Okay, I said, and then my eyes welled up and I started blubbering like baby. What the hell is this? Kate laughed, called it hormones, and stayed another day. It's all about family.

So what's the up side to having a hysterectomy? For me, I can pee normally again even when I go out to lunch with friends, drink three large glasses of water and many cups of oolong tea. I also lost eight pounds in three weeks without even trying. Eat your heart out Jenny Craig. And the best part of my hysterectomy: no more periods. Hooray! Men think, what's the big deal? Women know, and they are jealous.

The down side of abdominal surgery wasn't as bad as I expected. Once my head cleared of the wooziness, I was up and around, albeit on pain pills and carrying a pillow everywhere I went. At the end of week one, I downgraded myself to over-the-counter pain meds and went on my first outing to the grocery store with my sister. As outings go, the grocery store is perfect because it usually isn't far from home and you can use the shopping cart as a walker. I discovered too late that my store also has motorized scooters available for the mobility-challenged. Bummer. That would have been fun!

The car ride was good for my insides, too. If you're uncomfortable hearing about bodily functions, skip to the next paragraph. You should know, however, that pooping is a serious business after surgery, especially when you have been on constipating pain meds for seven days. As a preventative measure, I had been taking three stool softeners a day, heeding my sister's warning that “you do not want to be straining.” It may have been the vibrations from the car ride or maybe it was just time. As soon as we arrived home, I made a beeline to the bathroom and was so excited that I yelled to my sister “I’m pooping!” I felt like a kid who just did her first doodie in the toilet all by herself. One of my friends rewards her daughter with an M&M every time she goes in the big toilet. My sister made me with a grilled tuna sandwich with extra mayo.

Week Two and I missed my sister. I hadn't realized what a comfort it was to have her around. She kept my kitchen stocked and prepared my meals. She fed my cats and cleaned the litter box. She picked up the mail, answered the phone, and dumped the garbage. She made sure I took all my meds at the appropriate times. It sucks to be alone. All those tasks I used to do without even thinking now take effort. Goddam knight in shining armor. You're late!

While Week One had been lots of lying around and watching Changing Rooms on BBC, Week Two consisted of lying around and reading library books. Books are good. Free books are better. At the end of Week Two, I drove by myself for the first time. My discharge nurse said my stomach muscles would not react quickly in an emergency so I should sit in the parking lot and practice slamming on the breaks and turning to look over my shoulder before attempting to drive. I thought about following her advice. I thought about it for a full five seconds before I turned the key in the ignition and headed out of the parking garage. I made it all the way to the library without crashing into anything so I rewarded myself with a Starbucks Chocolate Brownie Frappuccino.

Week Three, I reviewed my accomplishments. Pooping? Check. Driving? Check. Sneezing and coughing without having to hold my stomach? Check. Able to use my toes to pick up my dirty panties from the floor and fling them into the air, then spike them into the hamper like a volleyball pro? Well, no, but I am almost forty. It's probably time I stopped those shenanigans anyway. I tried yoga. That lasted two days. I went out often: grocery store, library, bank. My favorite pastime was napping, following closely by reading and writing and playing with my cats.

After Week Three, I was probably physically able to go back to work but my doctor had graciously given me six weeks off. I love her for that. So I spent the next three weeks researching and planning for the business Tania and I were going to start just as soon as possible. Of course we never did, but it kept my mind off the fact that I eventually had to go back to work. I dreaded it and didn't know why. Five days after returning, it dawned on me: the company didn't care about its people. It was a global corporation in survival mode, downsizing left and right and not bothering to thank the remaining employees for hanging in there.

So I quit and lived happily ever after.

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Comments

You can even make what would otherwise be an awkward topic entertaining. I now know more than I hope to ever need to know, but am grateful to understand how this affected you. Of couse, I feel like a shitty friend because I wasn't around to help. Please tell me this was after I moved...

You read the entire loquacious saga? Well done! And don't feel bad. You were already in Seattle, m'dear. It was May-July 2003. =)

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