The Ordeal

As usual, I wrote out an apology for not posting consistently, and then I continued to not post consistently. At least I'm consistently inconsistent, right?

Lately, my mind has been occupied with several recurring themes.

The one that I'm going to discuss today is that of the fibroid. Fibroid tumors are benign fibrous tumors that can grow inside the uterus, in the uterine wall or on top of the uterus. I was diagnosed with one in 2005. My doctor at the time said we would do some 'watchful waiting' and see what would happen next. Most of the time, no intervention has to be made, women go on and have children and as they experience menopause the tumors shrink on their own. Well, in my case, the tumor was pretty large in a small amount of time. I consulted with a Fibroid Specialist (who knew they existed? I didn't) at George Washington University and after a battery of tests, it was determined that the best approach for this tumor would be a laparoscopic myomectomy with a mini-laparotomy. Laparoscope means tiny incisions and a camera helps guide the tumors out. Laparotomy on the other hand, involves cutting.

Being a nurse and knowing what I know, I was apprehensive about cuttting. Would I have to have c-section deliveries? Scar tissue? Down time? My doctor seems to be at the forefront of what's new and current for fibroid treatment so I scheduled my procedure for May 18, 2009. And any health care professional will tell you how hard it is to relinquish your medical knowledge and your false sense of control and let someone help you, even if it is for your own good. This tumor ended up being so large that a laparoscope was not an option but they were able to get it all through the mini-lap.  

The week before I worked three 12 hour shifts, darting around my pre-operative appointments. Everyone was friendly and answered all of my questions. But anyone that knows me well knows that I was just as anxious anyway, like a lapdog. Getting stuck for pre-op labs and actually sitting down and discussing how the fibroid would be removed--yikes! After every appointment I would sulk around and worry. To add injury to injury, my father had been having neck and back pain and we found out on May 15 that he would be undergoing surgery on Monday the 18th as well! My poor Mom was stuck in the middle, having already bought a ticket to come be with me the 19th through the 21st. Ultimately, she decided to come out and be with me. I know I'm selfish brat, but I was happy that she did. I was worried about me and my Dad and my good friend Ebony, all of us undergoing surgery on that day! Too much to handle. Too much time to think, "what if.."

I went grocery shopping with Ebony on Sunday for things for my mom to make and started the "prep" at 5pm. I mixed the Magnesium Citrate 1:1 with Sprite. It was still disgusting and I cannot forsee a time when I'll be able to stomach Sprite again. Sleep came over me and didn't stay long. I woke up and showered and drove me and my husband to GWU Hospital in Foggy Bottom. We went up to the Surgical Services, where we began our wait. I was scheduled for three hours in the OR at 2pm, but I was still watching CNN at that point. I went back at 230 and sat for another hour before they started my IV and Dr. Robinson came back and peeked at me and told me he had another case ahead of me! I hadn't eaten in 24+ hours!! I was losing my mind. I took a nap for about an hour and a half. When I woke up, game was on! The anesthesiologist came by to introduce himself and check my allergy information. Dr. Robinson came by and introduced me to the other doctors that would be working with him. The anesthesiologist came back and gave me some Versed, which I highly recommend if you have the means because it's not called midazolam for nothing.  It is a dazzling experience. The last thought I had was, "why are all of these men going to be looking at my female parts?". I don't even remember counting backwards....

When I woke up in the PACU, it was clear to me that someone had taken my Highlander and run my middle over with it--seriously. That and my throat was very irritated from the intubation. The staff asked me to move over to the transport bed to be taken upstairs and I said I wasn't doing anything until I had some morphine and ice. So they gave Richard the ice and that was the best ice I ever had! My throat was so uncomfortable. The morphine wasn't half bad either. But about two minutes after the nurse had given it slow IV push, I laid there thinking, "Am I breathing? Is my chest moving air? Oh well, I think I'm breathing." They sent me upstairs to the third floor where I was just in time for the White Rabbits on David Letterman. I drifted in and out of sleep/consciousness while Ben Stiller was on. Richard nudged me so I could see the boys but I went right back to sleep afterwards. 

I had a great nurse, a new grad, and even though she knew I was a nurse she said I wasn't too bossy, which was surprising. I was in too much pain to put up much a fight. She gave me Apple Juice, and that was like Apple pie at that point, 36+ hours without food. The night was a blur of pain, morphine and attempting to stand up on my own. It's more than amazing how much you use your abdominal muscles, whether you are in shape or not! The first time I coughed, I almost passed out from crying and crying was painful enough. In the morning, the men came to check on me. The chief resident got too much pleasure ripping that sticky dressing off! Insert my "look" there. You know the one.

I got to eat breakfast (nothing fancy) and then my Momma came :) With her help, I got up and sat in each chair in the room. I got my IV discontinued and got dressed and was home by 230, 24 hours after going back for pre-op.

Being the rockstar that she is, Momma came in and started cleaning. Having the pain I was having, I came in and took a nap. Ebony and her mom came by to see us. Me and Momma called it a night early after I realized that the chief resident hadn't signed my percocet prescription. I stood up until I got those bad boys and not a half an hour later, I was ready for bed. I was feeling better in the morning, but my biggest problem was getting from a laying-down position to an upright position. PAIN. How could I go have half a c-section, with no baby and just as much pain. I was totally outdone. Going to the bathroom unassisted and taking a shower were huge accomplishments. I began to look like Linus because I couldn't go anywhere without my pillow to shunt my lower stomach.  It's remarkable how renewing a shower can be.  I felt new and even put lotion on. 

On the good side, I woke up and checked my Blackberry Tuesday morning to which I read and listened to many nice messages. With each status change on Facebook, I received encouraging messages from friends.  Jamie texted me right before the White Rabbits took the stage at Letterman and texted to see how everything went afterwards. Jonathan was concerned for my nutrition, wondering when I was going to get to eat (as usual). My parents and friends all left messages for me. I was relieved to be able to talk to my Dad that night.  I was well past tears by then. I felt loved. Tuesday was the worst; just looking at me hurt me to tears. The pain was raw and relentless. Truly, the abdomen is not a good place to get cut! Wednesday was slightly better. My mom cooked all day. Three meatloaves, two pans of real macaroni and cheese, two sweet-potato pies....beautiful. Food appeared appetizing but the gas that followed after anything was ingested was unbearable! The only thing that moved the gas was walking, so I did as much as I could. The mornings while my mom was here, we'd have tea and talk. I really wanted to go to the airport to drop her off, but was fairly certain that a car ride across the bumpy 14th Street bridge would put me over the edge.  So instead, I laid in the bed and cried after my mom left.  Somehow that feeling of being left behind never escapes me when I'm with her. 

After my walk on Thursday, I got a delivery of flowers from my #2 family, the Levinsons.  I came in and traded abdominal wound stories with Mom #2.  Jamie even called me of his own free will (which never ceases to surprise me because it happens sooo rarely).  My brothers were very attentive.  Prior to my procedure I had discussed with Raquel whether I should get my hair done before or after, we decided on after. So, on Friday I got up, had a shower and went to get my 'do done. When I got to the shop, I made my cup of coffee. Raquel came up behind me and said, "NO you didn't! Come in here wearing a do-rag!" I had to laugh and grab the pillow tight. Then she gasped when I took the scarf off my head!! I laughed it off. I showed her the steri-strips.  She couldn't believe that I was already out but by the looks of my head... She was very gentle with me and I looked wonderful afterwards.

Everyday I feel a little bit better, but I still have a ways to go. Thursday, I woke up in pain.  One minute you're fine sleeping, the next there are tears in your eyes and you're scrambling around for whatever you can take to stop the pain.  It's unlike any other pain I've ever had.  Pain from the inside out.  I sneezed for the first time and screamed...deafening Jonathan in the process. Because the tumor was fairly sized, people ask me if I notice a change.  I'm still in too much pain to notice a change.  There may be a change in my abdomen but the three-inch souvenir takes my mind away from it. Maybe by July or August I'll be able to tell.  I just know that the surgery exceeded my expectations of pain, perception and my strength.  But slowly, I'm working my way back.  Look out world.