Finally, after 4 months I am able to sit down and write
about what was (I am claiming it) my last surgery. Honestly this one was so much more
traumatic that all of my previous surgeries, so much so that I have avoided
writing about it. There was no comical spin to put on it, and I still struggle finding
a positive spin ( other than the fact
that I’m still alive). Initially I was
supposed to check in Friday, and be home by Monday, Tuesday the latest. I
planned accordingly, making sure I did laundry, cleaned the house, arranged for
childcare and pick up of my then 5 year old. In my mind, I was thinking, nothing is as extreme as
my previous surgery. That was 15 hours of surgery, this would be like 6, no
more than 8. This was only my stomach, not my stomach and breasts. It would be
a breeze, I was ready for it…or so I thought. My surgeon after all, told me she
was the "Hernia Guru" and I love a confident women. I especially love that she
showed up in a Wonder Woman surgical hat, and matching socks. Wonder woman is
my ring tone, Wonder Woman is kick ass. We were gonna kick that hernia’s ass. And
she reminded us of how Lucky a day it was 7/7/17 !!!! Then she started
explaining things. As I heard the words epidural, catheter, my blood pressure
shot up like 30 points on the monitor and I had to breathe it out. As afraid as I
was there, was no turning back.
My aunt took this picture as I tried to stay calm listening to the surgeon
The surgeon would make a vertical incision from the middle
of my ribs to my pubic bone. In a procedure called component separation, she would
cut muscles from my obliques on both sides, stretch them to build a new
abdominal wall. Then, to secure the newly stitched wall, attach a mesh all the way from my ribs to my
hip bones before sealing me up. Below is a diagram.
Initially when I woke up, the pain was much more intense
than what I thought it would be. So they drugged me up with Morphine, a few
other narcotics that put me to sleep, but that was all they did. I was still in
pain. They wanted me to ambulate, but I was in so much pain. When they allowed
me to eat, I couldn’t because I was in too much pain. On top of that I had a
fever for about 2 days. On the 3rd morning after my
surgery, I attempted to give myself a sponge bath because I was tired of having
people wipe my ass, and bathe me. I needed a new surgical binder that wasn’t
stained with crusty blood. The pain was so excruciating that when my aunt (who
thank God was also my nurse for the day) knocked on the bathroom door to ask
how I was doing, I broke down into weak cry., a whimper. Boy, was it humbling to have
my aunt, who used to change my diapers, have to bathe me…everywhere.
She handled business and then an X-ray was ordered, and an enema…
perhaps I was constipated (which is worsened by narcotics). While she set up my
bed, I eased into the hospital chair. Suddenly I became overwhelmed with nausea
and began violently vomiting bile. My aunt had to hold the bag, so I could
support my stomach as it was jerking involuntarily. Horrific pain. Apparently, I had an ileus, or
what they call bowel obstruction. A serious one. It appears my digestive system
had never fully awakened after surgery, which explained the reason oral
medications were ineffective; they were not being digested. Everything was stuck
in my stomach and esophagus. It made sense, I was swollen everywhere and my
skin was clammy and discolored.
Within
the next 10 minutes my aunt was holding me down as another nurse stuffed a tube
up my nose and into my throat while I gagged and cried. For the next 24 hours, the
NG tube would pump my digestive track of everything and my stay at the hospital
would be extended while my digestive functioning was observed. Which meant 24
hours of nothing, followed by 24 hours of liquids, and 24 hours on solids for a
total of 3 more days.
Recovery at home was equally tough the first few days. Last time
I had major surgery I had a live in partner who could help me. This time on I
was my own with bathing (2 weeks before I took a real shower), letting things
fall to the floor because I couldn’t pick them up, and the constant pinching of
drains. It was sleepless nights, and spells of helplessness The worst part was eating, because the peristalsis was excruciating, I
felt like I could feel every bite of food work its way through my body for at
least 2 days.
check out the hernia through my dress.
side angle of the hernia before surgery
I found
it so much more difficult to focus on the positive this time around. Yes the
hernia was gone, but at that time it meant a shift in the type of pain I
experienced. Because I feared any further intestinal problems, I rejected
narcotics for pain management and stuck with ibuprofen and Tylenol. Ouch!
Over the last four months my body has been amazing all over again
in regaining its strength and stamina. I’ve swallowed tears of frustration when
I returned to my workout and couldn’t do anything, or I was so exhausted from
jumping back into work, I’d get nauseous. For a year and half I tried to cover this
massive hernia, but now I’m trying to disguise my belly which now only looks
about 4 months pregnant. It still feels tight and sore on extra busy days at
work, and my ab power is severely diminished but I’m forcing myself to remain
patient and remember that in due time, the swelling will decrease, the strength
will increase, and while I’ll never be the same, I’ll feel confident in my physical
appearance and power again. And if I’m lucky, one of these days I’ll see the
lesson in all of this. I thought I mastered body gratitude, life gratitude, patience? Well, it's not mastered, but I've had many lessons. What do you think is the possible lesson? I Wonder.
Left top- hernia, Right top-1 week post op, bottom left- 2 weeks post op, bottom right- 2 months post op
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