Emotional Outbursts and Agony Post Op, All Just Weird
Friday night (early
Saturday morning) excruciating agony kicks in. The same thing happened five
days before, and six months before that, but nowhere near as bad. It was time
to take it seriously, and based on the genetic history of my family, stones were
a likely candidate. I was right, it was stones. Shit that stuff hurts!!
Unlike the last incidents
(when I decided to get through the pain, because sometimes that’s less scary
than facing hospital) I knew I had to act, so I asked Steve to take me to the
hospital at 2am. Sorry love. But he knew it as well - no more messing around.
He felt like I was a ticking time bomb now.
 |
| My mini loves were anxious for their mumma. I was just happy when they let me wash my hair! |
Four days later
and I finally get out of the hospital. There was talk of me staying in another
night, even though the surgeon said I could go home, but the specialist had “concerns.”
There was a risk something else could
happen – a stone travelling into my liver, which wouldn’t be a good thing. She
let me go in the end. You never want to stay in hospital a minute longer than you
have to right? Besides, of course nothing
else would happen. I’m lucky. Fingers crossed it won’t.
But during this
little soiree, two extremely weird things happened. The first when Steve was
saying goodbye as I was being rolled off to surgery. I knew he wouldn’t be there
when I got out, because I insisted he went home to be there for the boys when
they woke up. I didn’t want them spun out hearing their mum was in hospital. Thankfully
he listened. But it got me all emotional.
He bid me adieu through
his own tears, but I couldn’t stop crying. I’m on the chopping block and they’re
trying to calm me down - I’m trying to calm me down - but I just kept getting more
and more hysterical… Let’s just say I’m not a fan of crying in front of
strangers – definitely not my thing. Thankfully
the drugs kicked in and I was gone.
Next thing I was
viciously woken up and took two gulping breaths with no air coming in. Not
being able to breath certainly wakes you up quickly right! But then I was hit
by a wall of pain. Excruciating. I had people all around me, but all with their
backs to me, and they were ignoring me. I was moaning, crying out in pain, pleading
“please can you help me?” Occasionally a voice would come close to my ear, just
a minute, we’ll give you more pain medicine when we get you back to your room.
But I don’t want
it when I get back to my room. I want it now. It hurts so much. Help. Help.
Please can someone help me. No one helped. At least I don’t think they did. It
was awful. Back in my room, the pain continued. The pain started at 12am and
finished at 1.30am. I knew the time better than anything else in that moment, because
hospitals have clocks everywhere. I was in the usual befuddled state one gets
into when coming out of anesthetics, but I knew the bloody time.
 |
| My view for four days |
I also knew
something wasn’t right. I’ve woken up from operations before and pain is the
last thing you feel. Did someone miss something? Why am I hurting? Help. Please
help. I’m in my room, people were there sometimes. Mostly I was alone. I got an
injection in the arm. An hour and a half later it stopped hurting, the room was
empty. They left the lights on. The nurse call button wasn’t anywhere I could
reach. I couldn’t get up. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything. The light
was hurting my eyes.
I was befuddled,
confused, and eventually, not in pain, but shit, what was that all about? I
kept asking the doctors and nurses the next day, but no one wanted to talk about
it. I get that, but I wish someone said there was a mistake, or you didn’t take
to the pain killer we gave you, or, or, or, but of course, that would never
happen would it? I might sue the fucking hospital.
I’ve never sued
anyone in my life and I’m not about to start now. An explanation would have
been nice though.
It’s done now, but
Steve and I have certainly agreed that if there are future operations, the
other will be there afterwards. It was definitely nice when Steve was in the hospital
making things happen for me. Although I have to say, I’m glad he didn’t see me
going through that. It would’ve been awful for him to watch!
I survived, one less
organ in my body which I’m bummed about, but I’m doing a whole lot better than
most people in this life. I’m just happy to be home – tender, tired and with a
bloody HEADACHE (coffee withdrawal? Too many drugs whirling through my system?) –
but home with my loves. The only thing that matters.
Anyone else wake
up from an operation in agony?
Yours, without the
bollocks
Andrea
Comments