I have been released!

So, I was released from the hospital this afternoon!

Since Wednesday things seemed to move at the most rapid pace:
11:00 Sign tons of papers. Name Brian as my guardian in Advance Directive using a stranger in waiting room as a witness. 11:45 Escorted "behind the scenes" alone, with just the clothes on my back. Pre-op meetings with surgeon, nurse, residents and anaesthesiologist while laying on a cot in booties and a hairnet with a bundle of nerves... IV drip....electric leg massagers... mild sedative.... nerves and pizza cravings replaced by vague fondness for being wheeled around the hospital and getting an excited girls-night-out feeling in the operating room. I may have even said something to the effect of "This is going to be great!" I didn't even have to count backwards, I just nodded right off.

The next 24 hours were a little slower. I woke up in the recovery room full of suffering pathetic people with no qualms about it. The girl accross the room screamed "JUST LET ME DIE!!!!!!!" at the top of her lungs for atleast 15 minutes until something finally kicked in. I sounded like I was a whimpering dog doing la maz. Everything was hazy and they told me they couldn't find my boyfriend, so I was an a mild panic. Meanwhile Brian was in the waiting room, and somehow got roped into answering the phones at the front desk because the receptionist had gotten off work. He was literally calling out family's names to go in to visit their loved one, awaiting the call about me. I have no idea how that went down, but in my head it is slapstick comedy!

So, he finally came back, held my hand and talked to me in a low voice about things I don't remember, and alerted me to the fact that there were like 25 hot blankets piled on top of me. It was true. We peeled off some layers, and I started to feel a little less horrible as my Dilaudid started marching through my blood stream. Every 8 minutes I was aloud to get more, AND NO SOONER. Oy! I was jammin' up that button every time I took a breath.

Around 7pm I got wheeled into my room, which to my surprise was a lovely little single room, with a window and a cot for Brian, plus a bathroom with shower! Ice chips. Chapstick. Delaudid. Repeat. No sleep. Lots of mindless tv and people coming in to check vital signs. Very out of it, but on a pain free cloud for most of the awake moments. At 5 am, a suitcase bearing man with needles and elastic bands drew blood with very stunted verbal indications of what he was doing. Little did I know this started a trend of hospital "vampires" who seem to draw blood in the wee hours of the night, with no bother for socializing or empathy. I asked almost every one of them what my blood type was and they all responded with a look like "who do you think I am? a blood specialist?". I finally found out today that I am B-positive.....B+.... almost perfect, but not quite an A.

I'm getting tired thinking about this next morning.... I emerged from the night with very little sleep. My brain was floating in my head, disconnected to my mouth, and my ears made everything sound like it was in a long tunnel far away. My eyes added a heavy haze to all things around me. I was fucked up. Several nurses came thru asking questions that I just could not keep up with. I knew they were talking to me and I could see them, but I could not form answers to their questions. Brian, being a saint, slept on a cot beside me that was the exact same size as his body. He was up all night helping with little things, and gathered my condition from things I had told him throughout the night. He became my translator. I sat in bed crying my eyes out, and looked at him and he told the doctor that this pain killer drip was making me crazy and confused, and possibly deaf and blind(my words). I was blowing my nose on my hand. They were taking the one IV out of my arm, and I was just sitting there crying and grabbing my bandaged stomach because crying was ridiculously painful. I thought they were taking all my drugs away because I had been bad. Brian somehow translated back to me that they were giving me Percaset pills that would take away pain, and maybe help with the river of tears K-hole situation as well.

From that point on, it's almost boring to tell how I actually began recouperating and making progress in leaps and bounds. The percasets did the trick. I got the catheter out Thursday afternoon. Took a very challenging bird bath. Walked about 20 feet, concentrating on every step, with quite a hunch back.

I met with Dr. Bhadauria who showed me pictures of the fibroids she removed. These pictures really blew me away: there were 5 fibroids, one about the size of a pineapple, all the way down to what Brian called a wasabi pea. They were removed through a scar that's maybe 7 inches long. They were all in my uterus, except the one that was in front of my ovary. There was no ovarian cyst (as 3 ultrasounds had reported existing.) Great news- no cancer. Nonetheless, weird how 3 different radiologists had come to the same wrong conclusion. You have to see these pictures, though! Horror films are based on these things coming alive.

So, the only other remarkable thing happened on Friday. After another night of tough love from the nurses and severe abdominal pain not conquered by 2 percasets and Ibuprofin 600... i finally farted! This got me some love from the nurses who were practically hi-fiving me. It was so awesome. The best fart I ever made! And pretty much the reason I was allowed to leave the hospital. I am sorry if this ruins your view of me, but in patient-world, this is a valiant and respected thing to do. A real rite of passage. I could have pudding! Parties! Whatever!

I am pretty exhausted right now, but I must add that my initial recovery in the hospital has been so amazingly aided by the phone calls, visits and flowers I received. I did not expect such a shower of love, and I was moved to tears (in a lovely way) several times because I felt so cared for. It really helped me put on a nice dress and try to do a lap around the hospital floor with purpose. That made a really big psychological difference for me, and I think the nurses liked the drugged-up fashion show "skiing" thru the halls. Thank you!

So, I am in high spirits. My mom just got to town and I have lots of time on my hands! I am gladly accepting visitors and phone calls and I am glad to be home again!!!