Tuesday, October 23, 2007 at 2:06AMA hernia tale
It started back in January, a dull pain that came and went usually while I was running or lifting weights centered in my lower right abdomen. For the next few months it got progressively worse up until I think it was in May, I was convinced I needed to go to the E.R. just in case it was an incarcerated hernia. I had been throwing up and huddled in a ball that entire weekend, so it seemed somewhat justified. After spending an entire day and my entire fortune, it turned out to just be ruptured cyst on one of my ovaries.
Long story made short, a month later I was shopping (surprise) and my hand brushed against a large bump on my abdomen. I pulled Tom into the dressing room and there it was popping out at me. A hernia. I went to the E.R. two more times for it, the last time being more justified, and this last Thursday it was to be removed once and for all. I put it off for some time due to us not having insurance and scheduling conflicts, my doctor's fault.
Generally speaking, hernia's really aren't that big of a deal unless they get backed up. They shouldn't cause you any pain and the surgery shouldn't be too invasive. In and out is what they told me. Athletes are usually back to exercising just days after. I of course planned on the same. I thought I would take the train home after the surgery, go apple picking the next day, and then really enjoy my first weekend back with Tom and my visiting sister. Tom thankfully thought otherwise, took the day off work, brought me to the hospital for my 7:45am check in time, complete with an empty stomach. Finally at 10:30 am it was my turn to get in my gown, booties, and cap and lay on my stretcher. I couldn't help but chuckle as the different doctors re-explained each and every procedure they would be doing on me, had me sign various consent forms, I mean did it have to be so dramatic? wasn't this a minimally invasive surgery? They then wheeled me into the surgery room and very quickly several monitors were stuck all over my chest and the nurse said "just a few breaths of this gas", and I was out.
I awoke in a different room. I could barely make out the different patients lying beside me and in front of me. And I really don't remember anything more about it except for waking up in more pain than I expected and asking for more morphine. After asking for Tom over and over in my brief moments of awakeness, they finally wheeled me to the recovery room. The next few hours were also a blur. I asked for more pain relievers, they gave them to me, with also a good dose of nausea. But instead of throwing up, I just burped. The surgery was done via camera so my stomach was blown up with air. In fact, I still look 4 months pregnant, 3 days later. During my stay, I was fortunate to overhear other patients recovering from hernia surgery, they
seemed to be doing just fine, what was my problem? I was so over tired, sick, and pained, I
could barely speak, walk, or stay awake. After complaining, my doctor explained that women don't get hernia's often, and men of course recover much quicker. After mustering up the energy and core strength to make it to the bathroom a few times, I lied, and said I did go, just so I could leave before everyone else did for the night.
But my first night home wasn't any better. I puked and puked, for hours it felt like. The only thing I had eaten in the last day and a half was a saltine cracker that tasted like paste from the lack of saliva I had left in my mouth. But somehow I worked something up each time. I didn't get out of bed the next day either. Luckily I had a few vampire books to keep my mind off of the pain and never ending nausea.
But here I am Saturday. I had my first real meal this evening including dessert, it was delicious. And I am now just finishing up this post which has taken me three days. My record keeping and recovery has gone something like this: paragraph, small bite of food, nap, paragraph, vampires, paragraph, nap. Real productive.
Will I miss my hernia? maybe. But thankfully I will have three little scars to always remind me of the time it spent with me. The strange looks I got when I told people about it, the many many trips to the hospital and doctor's office I took for it, and how my experience was quite a bit different everyone else's, will never be forgotten.
Packing up
Last night I began packing up my stuff to head back to NY. This is probably my 12th time doing this, in the last 5 years, and I usually get a bit sad, but this time was different. In addition to packing my suitcase, I also gathered all of Luke's 12-18 month clothes and shoes and boxed them up to be left here, for hopefully the next baby. In my extremely hormonal mind, I couldn't help the emotions. Every time I say goodbye to another stage of clothes, I can't help but feel like I am losing a little more of my baby. My mind panicks and worries how much longer I have before Luke will move on from all of the things that daily frusterate me, aggravate me, but most often make me smile and laugh.
Before long, his sloppy signlanguage and the slurred few words he knows will be replaced with clear complete sentences. He won't be calling "Ma Ma" over and over again even after I have answered him over and over. Will he always do a dance when I ask him if he needs to have his diaper changed? Or turn down pizza and cupcakes for fruit and carrot sticks? Will I get a bit sad when he no longer tries to eat Addy's dog food, or offer me my own bite? The kisses he gives will eventually turn from open mouth to closed mouth, or maybe none will be given at all. Will he stop waving from across the room when he see someone he knows, or scream with excitement? When will I stop laughing when I have layed him down for a nap and have to put him back in his crib at least three times because he now climbs right out of it? His simple forms of entertainment (balls, doors, buttons) will need to replaced with video games and real toys. His clothes won't be as fun to fold, only because now they are just so small. He will stop taking out his binky just to say and sign "bumpa" (grandpa). When will he stop wanting his mom's silkies and binky when he needs comfort? Will he ever be easy to take anywhere when he isn't in a stroller? (that I am anxious for). And how long before he is officially out of baby clothes and into toddler clothes? I can barely stand the thought.....
They're Here...
25 years later.....and my take?
still very creepy.
A bunch of us went to see this flick for its 25th anniversary, and I still found myself jumping and/or hiding behind my sweater.
Still creepy
Opening sequence. Carol Anne kneeling in front of the tv quoting "they're here".
Kitchen chairs. Both when they were pushed from the table and stacked on the table.
Unfinished swimming pool, including dead bodies.
The house. I haven't been able to look at a house like that since without getting goose bumps.
The *** lady. her voice, her height, her monologue.
The clown. need I say more?
& Carol Anne's faint voice from the t.v.
Not as creepy.
The tree. Actually scarier before it came to life.
The guy that peels off his face. If it wasn't obvious it was a mask, it might have worked.
The bedroom & the flying toys.
The documentary that followed the movie on real poltergeist scientists.
Some Weekend Highlights
and lowlights.
Starting with highs.
I love my hair. It might just possibly be the prettiest color I have ever had, thanks to Nicole. And might I also add, it was probably the most fun I have ever had having my hair done. I spent some of Friday and Saturday hanging out, drinking lots of Diet Coke, eating candy corn, watching Star Wars, quoting Arrested Development, and of course laughing hysterically. Kelly & Grant were excellent hosts.
This picture really doesn't do my hair justice, as always camera and lighting problems. Nicole got my desired color exactly right. Something none of my past hair dressers were able to do, even with pictures. Sadly she lives in Idaho.
Typical of my mom, she baked lots of treats. And typical of me, I ate way too many of them, but enjoyed every minute of it. Until this morning.
I relished in hanging out in my pj's all day Sunday, watching conference, and working on Luke's Halloween costume.
Other highs included: Finding $1 a yard fabric to be used for a very cute vintage knit pattern Kelly gave me, making black bean burgers, hanging out with 1st and 2nd cousins, fountain Diet Cokes, hanging out in Rose Park with Maryanne and Brian (they have a darling house), and having family around to watch Luke.
and lows.
Luke = sick. Especially if you count the puking all over my dad, twice, and the many many not so enjoyable diapers I changed.
And my third trip to the ER in the past 4 months. Luckily this trip was covered. I don't think I've mentioned yet that I have a hernia. Hernia's are typically not so problematic, but not so surprising, mine has been quite the opposite. I was in severe pain for most of Saturday night, I had to cut our enjoyable night with friends short, and drag my sister to the E.R. for 5+ hours, only to have the doctor just push my hernia back into place. That part was really painful. Almost as painful as watching and listening to the patients that particular hospital brought in. It was quite a night.
Other lows included: Luke jumping in the shower with me fully clothed, Luke slicing my fingers with my fabric scissors, and Luke tackling his 2nd cousin at least three times.