When it rains....
The last couple of months have been ... um ... er ... well ... different.
On August 31 I had all my reproductive plumbing surgically removed. It went quite well and I was released from the hospital the next day after having my first experience with morphine. (side note - I prefer demerol). The doctor had warned me that I was facing six weeks of recovery time, but I had no idea how bad it would be.
My only experiences with surgery had been a tubal ligation - less than a week of recovery, and removal of fibroids - still only a week or so of recovery. On those rare occasions when I get sick, I'm down roughly half as long as other people with the same illness. Even broken bones didn't slow me. This did.
John stayed home with me from Thursday through Monday (Labor Day) and I pretty well stayed on the daybed. That way I had rails around three sides that I could pull on to help me move around. Before he went back to work on Tuesday, he took set up my work computer in the dining room and made a bed on the couch. Each morning that week, he helped me down the stairs and I stayed there until he came home. By that time I was feeling pretty decently as long as I took my time getting around, so I'd spend too long sitting in the dining room working - and be worn out by the time John came home and really sore the next day.
By the second full week I was able to negotiate the stairs alone, so John moved my computer back to the spare room where I could sit in a rocking chair to work. That helped immensely. The rocking chair had me leaning back enough to take the pressure off my gut so I didn't hurt as much, but it still took the full six weeks (and then some) for the pain to really go away. I've been warned that it could take up to six months to regain my stamina and really feel like myself.
And I'm not even going into the whole hot-flash-and-mood-swings business.
But the downpour continues tomorrow.
On August 31 I had all my reproductive plumbing surgically removed. It went quite well and I was released from the hospital the next day after having my first experience with morphine. (side note - I prefer demerol). The doctor had warned me that I was facing six weeks of recovery time, but I had no idea how bad it would be.
My only experiences with surgery had been a tubal ligation - less than a week of recovery, and removal of fibroids - still only a week or so of recovery. On those rare occasions when I get sick, I'm down roughly half as long as other people with the same illness. Even broken bones didn't slow me. This did.
John stayed home with me from Thursday through Monday (Labor Day) and I pretty well stayed on the daybed. That way I had rails around three sides that I could pull on to help me move around. Before he went back to work on Tuesday, he took set up my work computer in the dining room and made a bed on the couch. Each morning that week, he helped me down the stairs and I stayed there until he came home. By that time I was feeling pretty decently as long as I took my time getting around, so I'd spend too long sitting in the dining room working - and be worn out by the time John came home and really sore the next day.
By the second full week I was able to negotiate the stairs alone, so John moved my computer back to the spare room where I could sit in a rocking chair to work. That helped immensely. The rocking chair had me leaning back enough to take the pressure off my gut so I didn't hurt as much, but it still took the full six weeks (and then some) for the pain to really go away. I've been warned that it could take up to six months to regain my stamina and really feel like myself.
And I'm not even going into the whole hot-flash-and-mood-swings business.
But the downpour continues tomorrow.
posted by KathyGS at
11:21 AM
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