There Will Be Good Days, There Will Be Bad Days, And There Will Be Days From Hell


Sunday and Monday, those were good days.  Sunday, I spent the day hanging out with the hubby and the boxers, enjoyed the sunshine (from an adirondak chair that I got stuck in and had to be tipped out of.  It is impossible to get out of an adirondak chair without using your arms- it doesn't matter how strong your legs or abs are!) and had some delicious Mexican food for dinner. Even though sleep does not seem to be my friend right now, I had a great day.  At this point, I feel blessed to grab 3 or 4 hours and call it a night. It's just too hard to get comfortable.  This may sound strange, but I am dying to curl up in a little ball.  I'm sure that if I tried hard enough I could accomplish it, but the pain of getting out of the ball would probably kill me.  And I really miss dreaming, I can't remember the last time I had a good dream. Funny how we miss the little things.

Monday was another great day, I was full of energy, and feeling very productive.  I did payroll, followed up on a bunch of loose ends and ordered everything that had been pending in my absence.  I drove for the first time since surgery!  And I cooked a fabulous dinner.  I really felt great.  My mom and I took a long walk around the lake.  She's captivated by the bald eagles nests around our development, and a large turtle that she claims is fast moving, but that I have yet to see.  (That reminds me, I need to take my camera down there and see if I can get a good shot of the eagles.  They look so beautiful up there!)  I felt pretty much normal, I actually felt good.  Of course, by Monday evening, I was exhausted and there just wasn't much energy left in me, but I can deal with exhaustion.  I wasn't in pain, just a little bit uncomfortable and tired.

Yesterday, Tuesday was the day from hell.  I didn't even get a warning day, I went straight from feeling amazing to feeling like I was in hell.  (Which was probably punishment for everything I did on Monday.  Just a guess but it was obviously way too much!)  Let me just say that I think there are some things that are of such great impact, and so scary, that they really deserve a mention during pre-surgery consults.  I am talking about my tissue expanders.  Because nothing was ever mentioned to me about how they would feel, I was expecting them to be silent, un-noticeable guests in my body.  I woke up yesterday morning completely unable to catch my breath.  This went on all morning, it was accompanied by a tightness in my chest, right where the expanders are.   I felt almost like I had just run a marathon, the feeling would not leave me.  I almost wondered if I was having a heart attack, but all of the pain was on the right side, and I'm pretty sure my heart is on the left. Turns out this is a known issue with the expanders, some people don't experience it, but most do.  Whew, that's a relief, I thought I was dying.  I've said it before, and I'm sure I'll say it again many times before this is over, as long as I know what to expect I can deal with it.  It's when I'm blindsided, and therefore unprepared that I have issues.  I'm guessing that if they told patients that they were going to feel as if they couldn't breath for 6-8 months, it would be a bit of a deterrent.

As if that wasn't enough of a complication, I discovered another one yesterday, and it's a big one.  I can't laugh.  Well, I can.  But, it-is-excruciatingly painful!  And sneezing?  Holy hell!  I sneezed last night and the pain was so bad, my mom thought I was going to pass out (frankly, I was a little suspicious myself).  I am hoping that these issues are what I would call post-surgery issues that after a few weeks, as my body heels, will disappear.  It's really  going to be a long 8 months if I can't laugh.  I really rely on giggles to get me though the tough spots... and sneezing, well I do that all the time.  My mother decided that all I need to do is grab a pillow and hug it to my chest before I cough or sneeze.  It will work out perfectly as long as all of my giggles, sneezes and coughs come with a 5 minute warning.

Tomorrow I go for my 1st post op doctors appointments.  I will be saying good-bye to 2 of my 4 drains.  There will probably be tears associated with the removal of the drains, but they won't be tears for the drains departure from my body.  I get why I'm not allowed to go out in public.  I have 4 large drains that are attached to my stomach.  I look like an armed terrorist.  Hopefully, 2 of them will be a little more manageable, and a lot less noticeable.  I was hoping that more of them were going to go, but when I called the doctors office the other day, she told me 2 at the most.... boy was I disappointed!  All of that monkey business will be followed by a visit to the other surgeon for a review and an explanation of my beautiful 3 page pathology report.  I've tried my damnedest to interpret everything in that report, but there are words in there that are bigger than my hand, so I eventually gave up.  I look at it this way, she's getting paid the big bucks, might as well let her figure out how to explain it to me in a way that I can comprehend.

Today is should be better than yesterday, I got a decent night of sleep, and  my breathless feeling from yesterday isn't present yet this morning.  As long as I can get through the day without laughing, sneezing or coughing, I think I will be okay.  (Damn, see this is what I was talking about when I kept telling my doctors I was concerned about quality of life after treatment...)


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