Nights at the Hospital

It has been overwhelming to think about posting since there is so much to process, so much happening, just so much.  But I thought that it would be best to start small.  Here is something I wrote a few days ago about my 2 nights in the hospital.

I wrote this on Tuesday:
Right now I am doing so much better than I expected. To think that I just had major surgery 4 days ago and I am already up and about, taking short walks, going to the bathroom myself, and getting small things for myself is amazing.  I was frail for about 2 days and then my body started kicking into high gear.  I hardly have any pain, and I am feeling remarkable good!  Unfortunately, they found some cancer in the lymph nodes in their initial test during surgery.  So they went ahead and took out as many lymph nodes as they could in my left armpit. I will try to walk you through the last 4 days.

I had my bilateral mastectomy with initial reconstruction on Friday, the 22nd.  The surgery was about 6 1/2 hours, I recovered for about 2 hours, and then Craig and my mom got to come back and see me.  Recovering was interesting because I was in and out of sleep for many hours.  The recovery room was a weird orphanage-like room with lots of beds lined up, and in between losing consciousness I could hear people call for nurses, get sick, and cry out in pain.  I remember being in pain when I first woke up, but they took care of me and quickly hooked me up with my very own morphine drip. The food of the gods. I think some family visited me that night, but I mostly just gave into sleep whenever I felt like it.

They were days of many firsts. My first night ever sleeping in a hospital.  It's an odd experience.  Someone strange barges into your room every 2 hours to do something for you.  Most of them were kind nurses or well-meaning doctors.  However, there was a strange man with a briefcase that barged in and offered to sit and watch me all night.  Um, no thank you. (Ethan from Lost, anybody??) Craig had that covered.  That night I drifted in and out of very deep, mouth open, drooling sleep. It was cute.  Another cute thing was also a first: a catheter.  Also: having a kind nurse wipe you as if you were an adult baby. I was channeling my inner Benjamin Button. All strange firsts that I can now cross off my bucket list. Done and done!

Day 2 started out really good.  They took me off the drip and started me on Norco pills.  I got my catheter out, got help walking to the bathroom, sat up in a chair, got a visit from some friends.  All was going well and good.  Then suddenly the morphine was fully out of my system and the Norco was not working for me. Thus started the worst of it all. Saturday later afternoon, evening, and night were very long hours of pain. Craig stayed awake to comfort me and advocate for me.  I remember that a friend from church came to visit me. She anointed me with oil and prayed over me. Doctors and nurses started giving me morphine injections to keep me as comfortable as possible throughout the night. That did help.  I was not sure how I was going to make it through the night.

This is a picture from Saturday. I was feeling alright at this point but it got worse as the day wore on.

By morning they decided to change my pain pills to Percocet in order to try to get me off the morphine. And Sunday morning, sabbath, my friends, was the turning point!  They figured out that Percocet worked well for me. Also, my nurse Linda lovingly whipped me into shape. When I pitifully could not raise the pain pills to my mouth and asked Craig to do it for me, Linda was all like, "No, Honey.  You need to do that yourself.  And you need to be getting out of bed and walking the halls.  You are going to get pneumonia and a blood clot if you keep up with this." Thank you, Linda. With some working pain pills in my system, I was willing to try these things.  A few hours later I was washing my face, putting my mascara, walking the halls, and dancing in my room with my husband!  What an amazing turn-around!

Here's a picture of me Sunday morning with Craig, my sister Nat, and my dad when I was feeling much better.

I was able to leave that Sunday afternoon and have been getting physically stronger ever since. Craig and my mom have been doting on me and caring for my every need.  Nurses are saying that my scars look good.  There is some swelling and tingling, but time will tell if that lingers. Overall, I am recovering well from the surgery, and I am thankful for that. Thanks for your prayers!

This picture was taken on Monday during my brief walk outside for some fresh air!