Night of Surgery

This is where the story starts to get good.


After body lift surgery, you can't stand up straight. You can't even roll over on your side without extreme pain. Fortunately I'd been hitting the gym like crazy for a couple of months so I could use my arms and legs to lift myself and not engage my core at all. There were some tasks, however, like sitting up from a reclined position in bed, that I just could not do. My nurse and my husband were both very understanding and I was able to direct them as to exactly what I needed them to do to help me get where I needed to go. They were both very supportive about this.

I'm not very good with pain medication. They don't make me sick or anything, but I start to get very anxious and irritable (and bitchy) if I'm on them for too long. Around 7 in the evening, a few hours into the dilaudid, I started getting irritated. My nurse was clumsy; ill prepared for the job she was doing. I'm always very patient and kind with nurses - they have a thankless job and I'm sure get treated like dirt all the time so I try very hard to be understanding if something goes wrong. I started having trouble dealing with, what was apparently her Attention Deficit Disorder.

Anyway, I wanted to try to go pee. They had a catheter in for the procedure so that meant I had to urinate before they'd let me leave the next day. So, the nurse helped me stand up, and then, started untangling cords and IV drips and all kinds of crap so we could move to the bathroom. This was a really small room, and I was frustrated that she didn't think to do this before I stood up. It was not safe for me to be standing that long based on the amount of drugs I had in my system, yet sitting back down would engage my core again and leave me in agony. Finally I had to stop being polite and tell her to move out of the way and I'd make it on my own.

I had consumed three IV bags of fluid and three 32 ounce jugs of water since the time I came out of recovery. I didn't feel the urge to urinate yet, but I wanted to try and get that 'milestone' out of the way. I sat on the toilet and felt the urge to pee, but every time the flow would start my muscles would completely tighten and hold it in. I couldn't make them relax at all. This meant I was going to have them put a catheter in me while I was awake and that scared me to death.

I got up and started walking back into bed and then it happened - my first ever drug fueled crazy panic attack. I started hyperventilating and crying and my husband called for help. The nurse couldn't find an oxygen mask for me, and when she brought the oxygen mask in, it didn't have any tubing on it to connect it to the Oxygen feed in the wall behind the bed. She couldn't understand why it wasn't working. At this point, it sent my anxiety level even higher because I realized that the woman who was responsible for my care after a major surgery didn't even know how to use the oxygen provided in the room.

A respiratory specialist came in, as did a Nurses Assistant. Once they got the Oxygen mask on me, my blood was immediately 100% oxygenated, and the respiratory specialist left thereafter. She was quite rude and my husband and I both had to yell at her to STOP talking about the reason for my panic attack every time I calmed down - it was just sending me over the edge again. She actually started arguing back saying "I don't understand what I did wrong." - I remember looking at her and saying "This is not about you. None of this is about you. Please leave." She was looking for drama from a super doped up post-op surgical patient? Just insane. Fortunately I don't remember much else.

The nurses assistant, Stephanie, that came in, was so amazing. She rubbed my shoulder and talked to me in a soothing manner (I was softly sobbing at this point). She told me that her sister had a roommate that used to have panic attacks and that they would give her a book and ask her to read one page out loud, and when she was done, she was usually calm. So I took out Bitter is the New Black, a book I'd been reading for my book club, and read a page. This worked!

We talked about what was going on and I suggested they take me off the dilaudid because of my reaction. They switched me to morphine instead, which isn't as effective on the pain for me but I would rather hurt a little bit more and be a little less bat shit crazy. After the first dose of morphine was delivered, they inserted the catheter and they emptied my bladder (it took three containers - I really had to go). I didn't even feel the thing going in. All that panic for nothing! A lot of my lower abdominal discomfort was relieved at this time, as the large bladder was putting pressure on the entire area.

I couldn't fall asleep all night long. The combination of morphine, valium, antibiotics, steroids, and whatever else they'd given me was keeping me awake. I was just miserable. I wanted to sleep so bad. I knew this was the most painful day of the surgery and I was planning on sleeping as much as possible but it just wasn't happening.

The next morning, I woke up and they took out the catheter so I could try to urinate. I got up and walked to the bathroom (pretty painful) and sat down and still couldn't go. I didn't cry or have a panic attack this time, but I did start to feel like I was going to throw up. It makes sense - I had only been able to stomach a few bites of potatoes and grapes the night before and have had massive amounts of strong drugs in my system. Now, throwing up would be the WORST pain imaginable and I'd worry about pulling a stitch or something. Fortunately, they gave me some phenergen which took away the nausea and put me right to sleep.

After sleeping most of the day away I woke up feeling better. The nurses said I had some more color. I even ate half of a chicken sandwich before I started to feel like it was too much. I got up and this time I was able to urinate!

As soon as it was reported that I had finally gone to the bathroom my doctor was called and he came in to discharge me. He wrote me a prescription for Demerol and Phenergen so I could sleep when I got home. He told me that my kids sure did a big number on me. He removed 11.5 pounds of skin and re-attached my abdominal muscles. I asked him if I was going to get a support garment to wear for the next few months and he said, "You don't need one, there was no lipo. Your stomach is flat as a board."

That moment validated all the hard work I've done over the last decade to be healthy and exercise. It proved I really had done all I could do. It was a great moment for me.