Tired today. Didn't sleep well from my 3:30 a.m. drug dose. Slightly nauseated in the morning to the point where I popped a Gravol. Drinking the prune juice continues to be a great taste sensation, but can't complain as I am pooping regularly - hooray! My Grey's Anatomy binge fest is so deliciouly decadent. My Mom came after lunch and there ain't nothing like a Mom to make you feel bettter. Could not keep my eyes opened in the afternoon and dozed for about an hour. After dinner, I walked half a block with David and my Mom as bodyguards ensuring that I didn't try to overextend myself, the first time out. Now, of course I feel like I was hit by a truck. But to go from walking 5-10 km daily to doing nothing - I'm having fresh air DTs! I know that I have to take it easy, I KNOW that. I'm trying to be good. I don't want to hurt myself, but if I don't start to get some oxygen moving through my system soon...
Going to try to sleep with only one wedge pillow under my back tonight to see if that helps my sleep cycle. My skin under the binding is itchy which probably means that I'm beginning to heal - Whoo-Hoo to that! Played the Pyramid Home Game with Mom, David and Rissa right before bed. "Things a Panda would say?" "Black and White things?" So much fun in spite of my having to hold onto my stomach when I did laugh so that I wouldn't pop any stitches. Mom and I laugh so much together and that I have a kid who likes word games? I'm in 7th Heaven here! Going to try to make it through the night without any codeine - I'll see how that works and I'll let you know.
Although I did feel better today, my energy level is actual less because I did more, if that makes any sense - I'll have to be a bit more vigilant about that. I don't want to his to be a 2 steps forward 3 steps back kind of thing. Other good news - my drain which had been draining about 50 cc's a day drained 30 cc's today - which is a REALLY good thing!
Cheers!
Heather
Monday, September 28, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
81 Hours Post Op
I coughed while mainlining the 5th season of Grey's Anatomy and felt like I might die. Due to my period I'm a little more weepy than usual and watching the doctors at Seattle Grace having to live their lives - to kill or not kill Prisoners on Death Row, 10 year olds who almost die of liver transplants, friends who fight for each other... forces me to reach for the tissues but I can't really blow my nose because that too takes my core muscles and I can't use them. The earlier part of the day I can stand straighter than at the latter part of the day. David purchased one of those chair massager thingies that can massage your butt, your back and shoulders - maybe that might help taking the numbness out of my ass.
So I spent $6,600 to voluntarily cause myself weeks' worth of pain. How many pairs of SPANX could I have bought instead? I'm really, really, REALLY hoping that in a month's time, when I'm no longer hopped up on pills and/or in pain and/or can stand up straight that I will look at my flat stomach and think "It was all worth it. Those days and days and days of pain the I suffered through, the sleepless night, the backed up bowels? All of that will fade into the past as I gaze at my new taut tummy." Right?
I mean, I know that I will forget the pain - I certainly did forget the pain of the c-section - that's why I was crazy enough to do this surgery to begin with - witness my previous posts... But this thing that I have done ALL for me - because David certainly didn't want me to do it - he supported me, but loves me as I was and wasn't grossed out by all my woobliness and cottage cheesiness.
Mostly this surgery was done so that I will not have people conversationally asking me on a quarterly basis when my baby is due. I can't tell you what it does to a woman's self-esteem - especially when you really think you look great on a particular day - when somebody asks how far along you are. If all goes well after this, I will no longer have people asking me that question.
I look at my body, bound in its tenser bandage girdle and it seems smaller, but I do have to say that I'm still a little afraid to open up the binding to see. I'm itchy and kind of tingly in places I didn't think I had stitches - I think that some of that is from where they stuck me with a needle to do the liposuction.
And for the TMI portion of the blog
DO NOT READ IF YOU GET AT ALL QUEASY!!
The drain? Has bits of things in it. Pieces of ME along with the, uh... fluid. I'm just saying - if you don't like stuff like this? Lots of pain and bits of your own personal body tissue bobbing in a drainage tube - a tummy tuck may not be the thing for you. You might want to calculate how much really sexy underwear that you can buy that will camouflage that area of your body.
Apparently I'm wallowing in the self-doubting part of recovery, but that something else you should know about. Because that will happen as well. All will be well though, because my mother arrives tomorrow at lunch time and will probably say "Snap out of it!" and shake her head and laugh and cook me great food and give me gentle hugs and play word games with me. It'll all be good, but right now? I'm still wallowing - just so you know.
Cheers!
Heather
So I spent $6,600 to voluntarily cause myself weeks' worth of pain. How many pairs of SPANX could I have bought instead? I'm really, really, REALLY hoping that in a month's time, when I'm no longer hopped up on pills and/or in pain and/or can stand up straight that I will look at my flat stomach and think "It was all worth it. Those days and days and days of pain the I suffered through, the sleepless night, the backed up bowels? All of that will fade into the past as I gaze at my new taut tummy." Right?
I mean, I know that I will forget the pain - I certainly did forget the pain of the c-section - that's why I was crazy enough to do this surgery to begin with - witness my previous posts... But this thing that I have done ALL for me - because David certainly didn't want me to do it - he supported me, but loves me as I was and wasn't grossed out by all my woobliness and cottage cheesiness.
Mostly this surgery was done so that I will not have people conversationally asking me on a quarterly basis when my baby is due. I can't tell you what it does to a woman's self-esteem - especially when you really think you look great on a particular day - when somebody asks how far along you are. If all goes well after this, I will no longer have people asking me that question.
I look at my body, bound in its tenser bandage girdle and it seems smaller, but I do have to say that I'm still a little afraid to open up the binding to see. I'm itchy and kind of tingly in places I didn't think I had stitches - I think that some of that is from where they stuck me with a needle to do the liposuction.
And for the TMI portion of the blog
DO NOT READ IF YOU GET AT ALL QUEASY!!
The drain? Has bits of things in it. Pieces of ME along with the, uh... fluid. I'm just saying - if you don't like stuff like this? Lots of pain and bits of your own personal body tissue bobbing in a drainage tube - a tummy tuck may not be the thing for you. You might want to calculate how much really sexy underwear that you can buy that will camouflage that area of your body.
Apparently I'm wallowing in the self-doubting part of recovery, but that something else you should know about. Because that will happen as well. All will be well though, because my mother arrives tomorrow at lunch time and will probably say "Snap out of it!" and shake her head and laugh and cook me great food and give me gentle hugs and play word games with me. It'll all be good, but right now? I'm still wallowing - just so you know.
Cheers!
Heather
67 Hours Post-Op
So it is now 5:40 a.m. and I have been awake since about 4:30. My shoulder blades were complaining about my position in bed and I could no longer ignore them. No more codeine for me this morning, instead I have popped a couple of back pills with an extra strength Advil. I have noticed that the usual prominent veins in my hands have all but disappeared. I think that might be due to slight dehydration on my part. I'm going to do my best to drink more water today.
Last night right before bed, I was squirming around by myself to try and get comfortable in doing so had some fairly intense pain in my tummy. Of course I was imagining that I had ripped the stitches in my muscle tissue. Although I thought I had more mobility, it appears I was misinformed. My lower back is unhappy with its new situation - I would kill to be able to do some decent pelvic tilts.
We closed our bedroom door last night to keep the cats out. Colby, the 16.5 lb beast is not happy that he can't climb all over me. He's a lumbering part Maincoone who steps rather indelicately. I love him to pieces, but the weight of him on my abdomen might just kill me. Poor David was up with a coughing jag last night and left for hours - during which time Colby managed to break into our room and snuggled up to my side - happier than he'd been in days. Our other cat, Minuit (a mere 8 lbs) can manage to sit on my legs without causing too much discomfort, if I need to push her off, I don't strain in lifting her, but Colby? He's a monster and I can't move him easily. So basically that means that somewhere between 8 and 16.5 lbs is my limit. I remember after having my first 9 lb baby via c-section I really couldn't hold her for the first few days for more than a few minutes. I was in the hospital after the c-section for three days after I had her. I'm coming up to that 72 hour mark now and I know that from now on I will be feeling better.
But may I just say? HOLY CRAP!! Not only did I decide to do this to my own body, but I paid lots of money to be in this amount of pain. Crazy lady. I am a crazy lady. The phrase "I've changed my mind!" is careening through my head. I haven't really looked at my stomach underneath the binder apart from getting David to re-arrange it down over my hips the 2nd evening home and ensuring that the drain line doesn't give me permanent dermatographia (the lines that appear on your body when you've been lying on something or wearing tight clothing). I saw the dressings over the incision at my hip line and the incision for my "new" belly button. I have dressings by my hips as well because I had some liposuction at my hips done at the same time. "Hey what the heck? I'm already out, might as well do that at the same time since I'll already be in pain." See that? Again, opting for MORE pain. Clearly not my most logical of thinking. I know that the surgeon took off about 3 lbs of extra skin and fat during the operation. This was confirmed yesterday when I did my Body Test on the Wii Fit. "Are you fidgeting? I can't seem to analyze you?" Didn't opt for trying to do any of the balance exercises to give my Wii Fit age - figured that David would have a coronary if he saw me trying to do that, and even I am not that stupid.
Sharon, the other nurse supreme at the clinic? Gave me a stern "It really is important that you do wear the binder all the time. I know that it's not the most comfortable, but it will better in the long run for you," right before I left the clinic. Me, being the rule follower that I am - I am going to wear the binder. Why would I go to all this trouble and pain and inconvenience to NOT do everything in my power to make this the best stomach possible? I don't want to be the gal who complains about the final results because she didn't follow instructions.
We had a snuggly movie night in bed last night. I forced Rissa to watch the Keira Knightly version of Pride and Prejudice - such a beautiful film. It's like going to the National Gallery and seeing beautiful painting after beautiful painting. Nowhere close to as detailed as the BBC version with Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth, but at over 2 hours running time it at least will get her ready for the 6 hour marathon when I force her to sit through the BBC version. Rissa snuggled to my side and quietly said "I'm not ever going to have a tummy tuck," as she held my hand and looked at me with her wide brown eyes. To which I replied, "Good plan." I have no doubt that I will provide her with many wonderful anecdotes through her life - this just being one of my more lurid crazier moments.
So here I sit at now... 6:26 a.m. with plate of toast with honey and jam and glass of prune and apple juice courtesy of my amazing husband. (Good news yesterday - in the TMI category, I finally had a bowel movement! Whoo-Hoo!) My back is finally feeling a little bit more relaxed thanks to the back meds, I'm a little dopey once more and maybe I'll be able to crash for another couple of hours. It's all good.
Cheers!
Heather
Last night right before bed, I was squirming around by myself to try and get comfortable in doing so had some fairly intense pain in my tummy. Of course I was imagining that I had ripped the stitches in my muscle tissue. Although I thought I had more mobility, it appears I was misinformed. My lower back is unhappy with its new situation - I would kill to be able to do some decent pelvic tilts.
We closed our bedroom door last night to keep the cats out. Colby, the 16.5 lb beast is not happy that he can't climb all over me. He's a lumbering part Maincoone who steps rather indelicately. I love him to pieces, but the weight of him on my abdomen might just kill me. Poor David was up with a coughing jag last night and left for hours - during which time Colby managed to break into our room and snuggled up to my side - happier than he'd been in days. Our other cat, Minuit (a mere 8 lbs) can manage to sit on my legs without causing too much discomfort, if I need to push her off, I don't strain in lifting her, but Colby? He's a monster and I can't move him easily. So basically that means that somewhere between 8 and 16.5 lbs is my limit. I remember after having my first 9 lb baby via c-section I really couldn't hold her for the first few days for more than a few minutes. I was in the hospital after the c-section for three days after I had her. I'm coming up to that 72 hour mark now and I know that from now on I will be feeling better.
But may I just say? HOLY CRAP!! Not only did I decide to do this to my own body, but I paid lots of money to be in this amount of pain. Crazy lady. I am a crazy lady. The phrase "I've changed my mind!" is careening through my head. I haven't really looked at my stomach underneath the binder apart from getting David to re-arrange it down over my hips the 2nd evening home and ensuring that the drain line doesn't give me permanent dermatographia (the lines that appear on your body when you've been lying on something or wearing tight clothing). I saw the dressings over the incision at my hip line and the incision for my "new" belly button. I have dressings by my hips as well because I had some liposuction at my hips done at the same time. "Hey what the heck? I'm already out, might as well do that at the same time since I'll already be in pain." See that? Again, opting for MORE pain. Clearly not my most logical of thinking. I know that the surgeon took off about 3 lbs of extra skin and fat during the operation. This was confirmed yesterday when I did my Body Test on the Wii Fit. "Are you fidgeting? I can't seem to analyze you?" Didn't opt for trying to do any of the balance exercises to give my Wii Fit age - figured that David would have a coronary if he saw me trying to do that, and even I am not that stupid.
Sharon, the other nurse supreme at the clinic? Gave me a stern "It really is important that you do wear the binder all the time. I know that it's not the most comfortable, but it will better in the long run for you," right before I left the clinic. Me, being the rule follower that I am - I am going to wear the binder. Why would I go to all this trouble and pain and inconvenience to NOT do everything in my power to make this the best stomach possible? I don't want to be the gal who complains about the final results because she didn't follow instructions.
We had a snuggly movie night in bed last night. I forced Rissa to watch the Keira Knightly version of Pride and Prejudice - such a beautiful film. It's like going to the National Gallery and seeing beautiful painting after beautiful painting. Nowhere close to as detailed as the BBC version with Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth, but at over 2 hours running time it at least will get her ready for the 6 hour marathon when I force her to sit through the BBC version. Rissa snuggled to my side and quietly said "I'm not ever going to have a tummy tuck," as she held my hand and looked at me with her wide brown eyes. To which I replied, "Good plan." I have no doubt that I will provide her with many wonderful anecdotes through her life - this just being one of my more lurid crazier moments.
So here I sit at now... 6:26 a.m. with plate of toast with honey and jam and glass of prune and apple juice courtesy of my amazing husband. (Good news yesterday - in the TMI category, I finally had a bowel movement! Whoo-Hoo!) My back is finally feeling a little bit more relaxed thanks to the back meds, I'm a little dopey once more and maybe I'll be able to crash for another couple of hours. It's all good.
Cheers!
Heather
Saturday, September 26, 2009
49 Hours Post Op
I managed to get some good sleep last night. My husband woke me up after 4 hours to give me some more codeine and then by morning I seemed to be okay with just the extra strength Advil. I haven't had anything since 5:30 this morning which is good so far. (Touch wood.)
A little weirdness (and why wouldn't there be with me?) My uvula - yes that little dangly thing at the back of your throat - is a bit swollen and seems to be resting on the back of my tongue, making me feel like I've got something stuck back there which results in my making very unattractive horking noises. I've been doing some reading and apparently, after anaesthesia, this is not completely uncommon. Recommendations include gargling with salt water which I will try. The slight complication is that it seems to get worse when I'm up and walking round because I'm leaning forward and the uvula kind of bounces around my tongue. I guess that my throat and uvula got a little bit irritated when they took the breathing tube out. It's not terrible, it's just irritating and I'm so thankful that I managed to avoid all the other complications from anaesthesia like the puking and nausea etc. So I'll deal with the more-dangly-than-usual uvula for the time being and if in a few days it's still bugging me I'll probably head to the fast track at the ER.
My mobility this morning seems to be better, although up and down the stairs is quite the challenge. The top portion of my stomach (under my ribs) is itchy with the binder. I can feel my incision a bit more, but that's probably due to the fact that I should be having some medication. Time for some extra strength Advil I think.
And now welcome to the too much information portion of the blog: As to... pooping - it's official - I am constipated. I've been taking stool softeners and prune juice to no avail yet. But it has only been two days. I'm going to keep up with the regime and see how it goes. I'm still a little loopy and although I've only been awake for 4 hours or so, I could probably be convinced to nap. Lunch time now - I'm taking extra multi-vitamins + vitamin C three times a day plus Bromelain pills and Arnica. I don't know if they're helpful or not, but I figure if I just keep throwing everything I can at this, the better it'll be in the long run. Here's the new mantra: extra vitamins help me heal faster!
Cheers!
Heather
A little weirdness (and why wouldn't there be with me?) My uvula - yes that little dangly thing at the back of your throat - is a bit swollen and seems to be resting on the back of my tongue, making me feel like I've got something stuck back there which results in my making very unattractive horking noises. I've been doing some reading and apparently, after anaesthesia, this is not completely uncommon. Recommendations include gargling with salt water which I will try. The slight complication is that it seems to get worse when I'm up and walking round because I'm leaning forward and the uvula kind of bounces around my tongue. I guess that my throat and uvula got a little bit irritated when they took the breathing tube out. It's not terrible, it's just irritating and I'm so thankful that I managed to avoid all the other complications from anaesthesia like the puking and nausea etc. So I'll deal with the more-dangly-than-usual uvula for the time being and if in a few days it's still bugging me I'll probably head to the fast track at the ER.
My mobility this morning seems to be better, although up and down the stairs is quite the challenge. The top portion of my stomach (under my ribs) is itchy with the binder. I can feel my incision a bit more, but that's probably due to the fact that I should be having some medication. Time for some extra strength Advil I think.
And now welcome to the too much information portion of the blog: As to... pooping - it's official - I am constipated. I've been taking stool softeners and prune juice to no avail yet. But it has only been two days. I'm going to keep up with the regime and see how it goes. I'm still a little loopy and although I've only been awake for 4 hours or so, I could probably be convinced to nap. Lunch time now - I'm taking extra multi-vitamins + vitamin C three times a day plus Bromelain pills and Arnica. I don't know if they're helpful or not, but I figure if I just keep throwing everything I can at this, the better it'll be in the long run. Here's the new mantra: extra vitamins help me heal faster!
Cheers!
Heather
Friday, September 25, 2009
33 Hours Post-Op
So before, in the happy little corners of my mind, I thought there's no way that this recovery would be as bad as recovering from a c-section. They weren't cutting through muscle this time around, I managed 9 years ago, it'll be a breeze.
I am waiting for the breeziness to occur. Still waiting...
No they weren't cutting through the muscle, but they were stitching all that muscle back together. So frankly the least of my worries right now is the actual incision. The amount of muscle pain that I am feeling from right below my ribs to right above my hip line is, probably an 8. As long as I don't move at all, I'm okay, but if I try to shift in any direction - HOLY CAMOLE does it hurt!
Yesterday was alright. We were supposed to arrive at the surgical facility at 7:30, well due to traffic into Toronto on a Thursday morning we got to town at 7:58. At 6:30 we're in Oshawa and I'm looking around thinking "What are all you people doing up now? Are you nuts?" So I call the nurse's station to let them know we're on our way, and Barb (nurse supreme) says, "Don't worry, we won't start without you." I hate being late for anything. And now I was going to be late for my own surgery, where a Dr. was going to cut me from hip to hip and now that Dr. might be irritated with me because I was late.
Thankfully she wasn't. I got into the OR at 8:15 and the anaesthesiologist was fitting me with an IV and I was just thinking that all the cabinetry on the far side of the room was dancing a bit, when the next thing I knew I was waking up in the recovery room. Apparently the surgery took about 2 hours and 20 minutes. All went well. It took me a while to stop being all fuzzy headed. I got to have some sips of water, my husband came in and sat with me for a bit. I sat up and immediately got pretty woozy, so the nurse gave me some gravol in my IV. I got taken to the bathroom via wheelchair the first time out and wheeled back after a fairly non-eventful pee. I found myself surprised at how straight I seemed to be standing when I was on my feet (that is NO longer the case). Second time to the bathroom and hour later I went via wheelchair, but managed to walk back to the recovery room. Third trip I was up and back and getting dressed with my husband's help. Realized that without bed-rails at home, my mobility was going to be an issue.
We had a non-eventful ride home, I was still kind of loopy. My husband dropped off the prescription for my T3s and then got me settled in the recliner in our family room. I love my recliner. And you know why I love my recliner? Because you can't tell that it's a recliner until you actually recline in it. There are no levers or buttons or anything to take away from the attractiveness of this chair. Which is lovely for a camouflaged piece of furniture, but not great when one has to engage one's legs and stomach muscles to recline or come out of a recline. And my arms aren't quite long enough to reach the end of the arm rests so that I can really get a grip and use my arms instead of my core muscles. Which means I must rely upon my spouse or child to lower me into the recline or get me out of it.
Those T3s that I was taking last night? Well, unbeknownst to me, they also had caffeine in them. I have this thing with caffeine. I can't have caffeine after noon. I have one cup of coffee (really it's half a cup of coffee with half a cup of soy milk) in the morning and that's it for me. When I was 18 I thought I was suffering from insomnia, when in actuality, I was drinking caffeinated tea after dinner and that was keeping me up. So last night, whacked out on the T3s? I was stoned out my head, but completely unable to sleep. ALL NIGHT. I finally slept at 4:30 a.m. when I took 2 extra strength Advil plus some back medication.
When I spoke to the Dr. today about getting a different prescription without caffeine in it she was genuinely astounded that the caffeine would keep me up. I have a freakish metabolism. I am quite looking forward to crashing tonight with the plain codeine although the Dr. is worried that I'll have issues with constipation because of the pain meds. As long as I can get a restful sleep tonight I'm sure that I'll be much better tomorrow.
Right now? Sitting here typing, the thing that is the most painful for me? It's my ass. My ass is pretty much numb from sitting all day. I hate that I have to walkie-talkie my family to get them to help me up. Invariably, I would forget to take the walkie-talkie with me so I would end up yelling for my husband anyway. My poor daughter is looking at me like I've lost my mind and I've pretty much said to her
"Don't gain 50 pounds with your first baby. ONLY gain 25 pounds. ONLY 25 lbs! And don't have babies when you're in your late 30s."
Because I don't want her to be in this position when she's 41 thinking to herself "Am I completely out of my ever-lovin' mind?"
And my period? It started tonight. So my poor husband got a crash course in affixing a maxi-pad to panties and then wiggling them up my thighs and then slightly under the binder. So far since the operation, I haven't been wearing any panties so that I don't have to contend with the pulling them up an down. Sorry if that's too much information, but it's WAY easier this way, believe me and now I have to wear panties and I ain't happy about it.
But all in all, in spite of the pain - it's okay. That's not to say that I wouldn't just rather be in a coma for say two weeks and then be able to leap out of bed all able to stand up without a drain sticking out of my body - which is also REALLY grossing out my daughter - but because that's not an option, I'm choosing to believe that tomorrow will be better than today and the day after will be even better than that and before you know it I will be able to stand up right and walk more than to my kitchen.
Cheers!
Heather
I am waiting for the breeziness to occur. Still waiting...
No they weren't cutting through the muscle, but they were stitching all that muscle back together. So frankly the least of my worries right now is the actual incision. The amount of muscle pain that I am feeling from right below my ribs to right above my hip line is, probably an 8. As long as I don't move at all, I'm okay, but if I try to shift in any direction - HOLY CAMOLE does it hurt!
Yesterday was alright. We were supposed to arrive at the surgical facility at 7:30, well due to traffic into Toronto on a Thursday morning we got to town at 7:58. At 6:30 we're in Oshawa and I'm looking around thinking "What are all you people doing up now? Are you nuts?" So I call the nurse's station to let them know we're on our way, and Barb (nurse supreme) says, "Don't worry, we won't start without you." I hate being late for anything. And now I was going to be late for my own surgery, where a Dr. was going to cut me from hip to hip and now that Dr. might be irritated with me because I was late.
Thankfully she wasn't. I got into the OR at 8:15 and the anaesthesiologist was fitting me with an IV and I was just thinking that all the cabinetry on the far side of the room was dancing a bit, when the next thing I knew I was waking up in the recovery room. Apparently the surgery took about 2 hours and 20 minutes. All went well. It took me a while to stop being all fuzzy headed. I got to have some sips of water, my husband came in and sat with me for a bit. I sat up and immediately got pretty woozy, so the nurse gave me some gravol in my IV. I got taken to the bathroom via wheelchair the first time out and wheeled back after a fairly non-eventful pee. I found myself surprised at how straight I seemed to be standing when I was on my feet (that is NO longer the case). Second time to the bathroom and hour later I went via wheelchair, but managed to walk back to the recovery room. Third trip I was up and back and getting dressed with my husband's help. Realized that without bed-rails at home, my mobility was going to be an issue.
We had a non-eventful ride home, I was still kind of loopy. My husband dropped off the prescription for my T3s and then got me settled in the recliner in our family room. I love my recliner. And you know why I love my recliner? Because you can't tell that it's a recliner until you actually recline in it. There are no levers or buttons or anything to take away from the attractiveness of this chair. Which is lovely for a camouflaged piece of furniture, but not great when one has to engage one's legs and stomach muscles to recline or come out of a recline. And my arms aren't quite long enough to reach the end of the arm rests so that I can really get a grip and use my arms instead of my core muscles. Which means I must rely upon my spouse or child to lower me into the recline or get me out of it.
Those T3s that I was taking last night? Well, unbeknownst to me, they also had caffeine in them. I have this thing with caffeine. I can't have caffeine after noon. I have one cup of coffee (really it's half a cup of coffee with half a cup of soy milk) in the morning and that's it for me. When I was 18 I thought I was suffering from insomnia, when in actuality, I was drinking caffeinated tea after dinner and that was keeping me up. So last night, whacked out on the T3s? I was stoned out my head, but completely unable to sleep. ALL NIGHT. I finally slept at 4:30 a.m. when I took 2 extra strength Advil plus some back medication.
When I spoke to the Dr. today about getting a different prescription without caffeine in it she was genuinely astounded that the caffeine would keep me up. I have a freakish metabolism. I am quite looking forward to crashing tonight with the plain codeine although the Dr. is worried that I'll have issues with constipation because of the pain meds. As long as I can get a restful sleep tonight I'm sure that I'll be much better tomorrow.
Right now? Sitting here typing, the thing that is the most painful for me? It's my ass. My ass is pretty much numb from sitting all day. I hate that I have to walkie-talkie my family to get them to help me up. Invariably, I would forget to take the walkie-talkie with me so I would end up yelling for my husband anyway. My poor daughter is looking at me like I've lost my mind and I've pretty much said to her
"Don't gain 50 pounds with your first baby. ONLY gain 25 pounds. ONLY 25 lbs! And don't have babies when you're in your late 30s."
Because I don't want her to be in this position when she's 41 thinking to herself "Am I completely out of my ever-lovin' mind?"
And my period? It started tonight. So my poor husband got a crash course in affixing a maxi-pad to panties and then wiggling them up my thighs and then slightly under the binder. So far since the operation, I haven't been wearing any panties so that I don't have to contend with the pulling them up an down. Sorry if that's too much information, but it's WAY easier this way, believe me and now I have to wear panties and I ain't happy about it.
But all in all, in spite of the pain - it's okay. That's not to say that I wouldn't just rather be in a coma for say two weeks and then be able to leap out of bed all able to stand up without a drain sticking out of my body - which is also REALLY grossing out my daughter - but because that's not an option, I'm choosing to believe that tomorrow will be better than today and the day after will be even better than that and before you know it I will be able to stand up right and walk more than to my kitchen.
Cheers!
Heather
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Tummy Tuck Day!
Okay, so it is EARLY. And seeing as I can neither eat nor drink anything I thought I'd post. Yesterday in the shower, I knocked an upper rib out of whack when I tossed my head. The irony of this is that on Monday I had a chiropractic adjustment AND a massage to make sure that I was all tuned up before the surgery. So late yesterday I went back to the chiropractor who said "What are you doing here? I'm not supposed to see you yet." I'd kill for a muscle relaxant right now. My husband says "Don't worry in a few hours that pain will be the least of your worries."
Yesterday I started getting butterflies. Lots and lots of butterflies. With erratic thoughts popping through my head "Is that a sore throat?" "I've changed my mind!" "What if I don't wake up from surgery?" "Will I truly be able to bounce quarters off my stomach?" (Because if that's the case, that could maybe be a good carnival sideline for me.)
My daughter gave me lots of hugs when we left her last night. I had two friends drop by last night to wish me well, several phone calls and email messages - so thanks everyone who is thinking of me, I am very fortunate to have so many amazing friends and family members.
So this is it - this is me closing my eyes and taking the leap... I'll let you know how it goes!
Cheers!
Heather
Yesterday I started getting butterflies. Lots and lots of butterflies. With erratic thoughts popping through my head "Is that a sore throat?" "I've changed my mind!" "What if I don't wake up from surgery?" "Will I truly be able to bounce quarters off my stomach?" (Because if that's the case, that could maybe be a good carnival sideline for me.)
My daughter gave me lots of hugs when we left her last night. I had two friends drop by last night to wish me well, several phone calls and email messages - so thanks everyone who is thinking of me, I am very fortunate to have so many amazing friends and family members.
So this is it - this is me closing my eyes and taking the leap... I'll let you know how it goes!
Cheers!
Heather
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
T-1 Day to Tummy Tuck
Tummy tuck recuperation danced its way through my dreams ALL last night and apparently I am going to be able to stand up to my full height immediately after my operation and will be able to pull the waist of my jeans out approximately 6-8 inches saying "Hey check this out!" Better that sort of dream than... well, a bad operation dream.
Surprisingly, this was my first night of interrupted sleep - I thought my nerves would have kicked in much sooner. Surgery tomorrow is scheduled in Toronto at 8:00 a.m. We need to check in no later than 7:30 a.m. To ensure that we arrive on time that means we'll be getting up at around 5:30 a.m. Our daughter is staying over at a neighbour's house tonight so that we don't have to thrust her on someone's doorstep before the crack of dawn. She will also be crashing after school at another friend's house in case we don't arrive back before the end of the school day.
I anticipate a slight hiccup to my day tomorrow. Looking at the calendar and given the pseudo-regularity of my cycle, I have a sneaky suspicion that when I wake up I'll be having my period. Usually this thing only happens when I'm going on vacation, but perhaps the powers that be, knowing that I'm going to be watching tv series, movies, reading and reclining in bed the next 7-10 days, think this will be a vacation for me. I have some tv series on DVD all ready to go, our entire DVD collection has been saved to our media player and I have all four books in the Twilight series ready to re-read. (Book Club will be at my house six days after my surgery and there was no way I was going to try to read meaningful literature before then. Feeding my inner 17 year-old seemed like a good idea for this month's club. After this month's book club I can read The Rent Tent and The Book of Negroes, but until then I'm going to enjoy my guilty pleasure.)
Slight panic has set in. I vascillate between my mother's innate optimism and my father's innate pessimism. Therefore I am half-expecting to arrive in the operating room and have the surgeon say that because of... (insert ridiculous excuse here) that they will be unable to perform the surgery. I have already had to postpone this surgery 0nce. I was supposed to have it last May, but had some wonky thyroid antibody results that needed to be checked out first. Went to an endochrinologist and made sure that elective surgery wouldn't be a problem before re-booking. I'm one of those hyper-honest people, so when I was filling out my medical form for the anaesthesiologist I put my high thyroid antibodies on it, I put my occasional sleep apnea, I admitted to my migraines - I'm anticipating that the door to the OR will be be barred, the surgical staff will apologetically shake their heads at me and I'll be sent home.
My Mom will be arriving next Monday to take care of me during the day. This of course means that I'm freaking a bit about making sure the house is spotless before she gets here. Guest room, bathrooms were cleaned yesterday, I'm making a run to the local thrift shop with bags of clothes, linens and old winter boots and I may even attempt to wash the kitchen floor. I'll leave the vacuuming to my husband and daughter as our long-haired cat will still be depositing fur between now and Monday.
I'm suffering from fall allergies and there's a part of me that worries that they might not be allergies and they are in fact a cold and I won't be able to have the surgery tomorrow. Full-on pessimism and panic has taken root in my DNA it appears. I removed my toe nail polish yesterday in case the surgical staff needs to... test my circulation? I don't think toe nail polish is a big deal and I don't wear finger nail polish, but I'm a rule follower and that was on the list of stuff to do, so I did it.
As I've been looking at "before and after" pictures over the past four years, sometimes I can completely understand why a particular person wanted a tummy tuck and sometimes I am completely mistified. Some of the "befores" look just fine to me. This woman on a plastic surgery show when from a size 2 to a size 0. I don't think that I was ever a size 0. Not even in the womb. I worry that people will think the same about me. My husband has never shuddered in revultion looking upon my jiggly, cottage-cheesy flesh and I wish, I truly wish that I could look at myself with the same eyes that he has. But I can't. My elephant ear stomach grosses me out. My daughter loves my "squooshy" tummy and is worried that she won't be able to hug me anymore - that I won't be as soft to snuggle with.
Having a nine year-old daughter makes me VERY aware of my own body image. I talk about being healthy and strong and fit - I deliberately do not use words like skinny or fat. I don't want to pass down all my own physical insecurities to her. I tell her that I'm doing this to make me stronger, to take away the extra skin - will that be enough, or will this surgery have ramifications down the line for her?
Later today we are picking up a hospital bedside table to use in our bedroom so that I can have my laptop, books, food whatever within arm's reach. I had wanted to rent a walker as well, but my husband nixed that, saying that if I'm not strong enough to be walking around the block without it, I shouldn't be walking around the block - he really worries that I'm going to try to overdo it. We'll see how this weekend goes and maybe next week I can get a walker... The anticipation of NOT being able to walk when I do so much of it, sends me into minor anxiety attacks. I don't just walk to stay in shape, I walk so that I sleep well at night. When I don't exercise, I don't sleep well. Plus, having had a bout with depression in my early 20s, I worry that without exercise I might slip back into it - more fears.
However, if I can channel my dear friend Shannon who took great bites out of life and lived full of joy and optimism... I am going to be stronger after this operation. I am going to have a flatter stomach. I am going to recover swiftly and with minimal pain. My daughter will still be able to hug me. I'm going to be able to look at my naked body in the mirror, be pleased with what I see and say "Thank you Gran!"
Surprisingly, this was my first night of interrupted sleep - I thought my nerves would have kicked in much sooner. Surgery tomorrow is scheduled in Toronto at 8:00 a.m. We need to check in no later than 7:30 a.m. To ensure that we arrive on time that means we'll be getting up at around 5:30 a.m. Our daughter is staying over at a neighbour's house tonight so that we don't have to thrust her on someone's doorstep before the crack of dawn. She will also be crashing after school at another friend's house in case we don't arrive back before the end of the school day.
I anticipate a slight hiccup to my day tomorrow. Looking at the calendar and given the pseudo-regularity of my cycle, I have a sneaky suspicion that when I wake up I'll be having my period. Usually this thing only happens when I'm going on vacation, but perhaps the powers that be, knowing that I'm going to be watching tv series, movies, reading and reclining in bed the next 7-10 days, think this will be a vacation for me. I have some tv series on DVD all ready to go, our entire DVD collection has been saved to our media player and I have all four books in the Twilight series ready to re-read. (Book Club will be at my house six days after my surgery and there was no way I was going to try to read meaningful literature before then. Feeding my inner 17 year-old seemed like a good idea for this month's club. After this month's book club I can read The Rent Tent and The Book of Negroes, but until then I'm going to enjoy my guilty pleasure.)
Slight panic has set in. I vascillate between my mother's innate optimism and my father's innate pessimism. Therefore I am half-expecting to arrive in the operating room and have the surgeon say that because of... (insert ridiculous excuse here) that they will be unable to perform the surgery. I have already had to postpone this surgery 0nce. I was supposed to have it last May, but had some wonky thyroid antibody results that needed to be checked out first. Went to an endochrinologist and made sure that elective surgery wouldn't be a problem before re-booking. I'm one of those hyper-honest people, so when I was filling out my medical form for the anaesthesiologist I put my high thyroid antibodies on it, I put my occasional sleep apnea, I admitted to my migraines - I'm anticipating that the door to the OR will be be barred, the surgical staff will apologetically shake their heads at me and I'll be sent home.
My Mom will be arriving next Monday to take care of me during the day. This of course means that I'm freaking a bit about making sure the house is spotless before she gets here. Guest room, bathrooms were cleaned yesterday, I'm making a run to the local thrift shop with bags of clothes, linens and old winter boots and I may even attempt to wash the kitchen floor. I'll leave the vacuuming to my husband and daughter as our long-haired cat will still be depositing fur between now and Monday.
I'm suffering from fall allergies and there's a part of me that worries that they might not be allergies and they are in fact a cold and I won't be able to have the surgery tomorrow. Full-on pessimism and panic has taken root in my DNA it appears. I removed my toe nail polish yesterday in case the surgical staff needs to... test my circulation? I don't think toe nail polish is a big deal and I don't wear finger nail polish, but I'm a rule follower and that was on the list of stuff to do, so I did it.
As I've been looking at "before and after" pictures over the past four years, sometimes I can completely understand why a particular person wanted a tummy tuck and sometimes I am completely mistified. Some of the "befores" look just fine to me. This woman on a plastic surgery show when from a size 2 to a size 0. I don't think that I was ever a size 0. Not even in the womb. I worry that people will think the same about me. My husband has never shuddered in revultion looking upon my jiggly, cottage-cheesy flesh and I wish, I truly wish that I could look at myself with the same eyes that he has. But I can't. My elephant ear stomach grosses me out. My daughter loves my "squooshy" tummy and is worried that she won't be able to hug me anymore - that I won't be as soft to snuggle with.
Having a nine year-old daughter makes me VERY aware of my own body image. I talk about being healthy and strong and fit - I deliberately do not use words like skinny or fat. I don't want to pass down all my own physical insecurities to her. I tell her that I'm doing this to make me stronger, to take away the extra skin - will that be enough, or will this surgery have ramifications down the line for her?
Later today we are picking up a hospital bedside table to use in our bedroom so that I can have my laptop, books, food whatever within arm's reach. I had wanted to rent a walker as well, but my husband nixed that, saying that if I'm not strong enough to be walking around the block without it, I shouldn't be walking around the block - he really worries that I'm going to try to overdo it. We'll see how this weekend goes and maybe next week I can get a walker... The anticipation of NOT being able to walk when I do so much of it, sends me into minor anxiety attacks. I don't just walk to stay in shape, I walk so that I sleep well at night. When I don't exercise, I don't sleep well. Plus, having had a bout with depression in my early 20s, I worry that without exercise I might slip back into it - more fears.
However, if I can channel my dear friend Shannon who took great bites out of life and lived full of joy and optimism... I am going to be stronger after this operation. I am going to have a flatter stomach. I am going to recover swiftly and with minimal pain. My daughter will still be able to hug me. I'm going to be able to look at my naked body in the mirror, be pleased with what I see and say "Thank you Gran!"
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