So, just about two weeks ago I had surgery to remove my ovaries. It went quite well, especially since the big ole mass in my left ovary was a benign adenofibroma.
I must say that the hospital staff was great. Everything went quite smoothly, from check-in through check-out. When they took me back to my wee cubicle, the bed had everything laid out quite neatly: high-tech hospital gown, shower cap, sockies, bag for my stuff. I call the gown "high-tech" because it was made of a soft paper, with several portholes for various tubes and whatnot. I got two wristbands! One with my name and birthdate, and one with "Similar name" written on it. Evidently there was another woman there whose name could have been confused with mine. So, mixup prevention was in force! Once I was in my operation regalia, my nurse started an IV.
I had visits from anesthesiologists, nurses, and finally, the doc himself. Then they wheeled me into the OR, where I remember seeing someone put a needle into the IV bag to add anti-nausea medication.
Then I woke up.
Evidently I didn't breathe often or deeply enough as I was coming to, because the "SHE'S NOT BREATHING!" alarm kept going off. When it did, the nice recovery room nurse said, "Take deep breaths! That's why it's barkin' at ya!" So I did, and it would quit, and I would slide back into sweet, sweet sleep, and then it would bark at me again. The nurse fed me some lovely ice chips and I woke up a little more. Finally, I was mostly awake for good and I got wheeled back into my cubicle.
My regular nurse brought me some ginger ale, which was delicious. Joe came in -- I was really happy to see him -- and we talked about the operation. The incisions got checked. I sipped some more ginger ale.
And then... I threw up. And with every heave, I peed. (Sorry if that's TMI.) So that was fun!
At last the doctor came in and gave me the good news -- benign, and I still have my uterus. Yay!
I vaguely remember getting my post-op instructions and being wheeled out to the car. I do know that I checked out for the ride home. When we got there, I went straight to bed and released myself to sweet, sweet sleep while Joe went and got my painkiller scrip filled.
I spent the week after surgery in bed or in the recliner. I took a shower on Wednesday; it was heaven! I drank a lot of Coke. Joe brought dinners in, God bless him.
Of the three small incisions that I have, the one on the left is the smallest. It has not bothered me at all. The one in the middle goes directly through my bellybutton. It's a little larger, but it hasn't bothered me either. The one on the right is the biggest. It has been very sore and sting-y. It's still a little painful, especially when I walk a little too much or roll over in bed. And holy mother of God, when I sneeze it feels like the alien is bursting out of my side.
But even with that, I'm getting stronger and more energetic every day. (Well, as energetic as I've ever been, that is. In other words, just this side of sedentary.)
I actually worked last week, although I worked from home. And, truth be told, I might not have been quite as productive as usual. And and and! I cooked Thanksgiving dinner for Joe, SonnyeBoy, and me! That felt good, even though I was pretty wiped out afterwards.
So tomorrow, I go back to work for real. I'm still going to take it easy, though. No sense in being silly about it!