So let me tell you the story of how I came to be here, in my living room, watching Maury Povitch, with a hundred stab wounds in my tummy. I never meant this to be The Gastric Bypass Blog, so you'll have to bear with me as I share what's going on now. Eventually things will be back to normal, and I'll be hating on US Air again.
On Monday, I got up at 4:30am and drove to my mom and dad's house. Since they moved my surgery up, Peter couldn't take me, so my dad drove me in. I checked in at the hospital and they had me give a urine sample and change and then they took me away. At 7:30am, they put in an IV and then that's the last thing I knew for a while.
At 2:30 I woke up crying that my back hurt and I remember being laughed at by the aide or orderly because my stomach was supposed to hurt, blah blah. They urged me to use the pain medication pump and I would feel better, but the pain pump didn't work. So they ripped out the IV and put in back in with a giant popsicle stick to hold it in place. Ahhh, sweet pain medication relief.
Peter was in my room waiting for me when they wheeled me in but I don't remember much. I know he set out my toothbrush and toothpaste (and I never even used them until Wednesday, ewww, gross). And that's what I remember about Monday.
On Tuesday I know there were other patients walking the halls and chatting and I was thinking WHAT THE HELL because my pain was so much worse on Tuesday than on the first day. I was supposed to be walking the halls too but it was all I could do to walk to the bathroom and back without dying. On Tuesday I ate a blue popsicle which did not leak through the little tube attached to one of my stab wounds, and so they started bringing me jello. Oh jello, I forgot how I loved you. On Tuesday night my IV became filled with blood and so they needed to take out the popsicle stick jerry-rigged one and put in a new one and I was so dehydrated and my veins are crap and it was 11:00pm, that it took 4 different personnel and six different attempts to get it in. by 3:00am. What the Fuck. Then they asked me if I would be ready to go home on Wednesday and I cried, cried, cried for an hour and started to panic and got some nice meds to calm me down.
Wednesday I felt better, started to walk the halls, pass gas, all that stuff you are supposed to do. Fun times. I watched a little TV and read a little but slept as much as possible in between drinking apple juice in little sips and eating red jello and eating beef consomme (ewww). I brushed my teeth finally.
Yesterday I TOOK A SHOWER and finally came home at 4pm. If I was more coordinated I would take a picture of my belly and all the stab wounds and post it for you. You should probably be pleased I will not do this.
Thanks to everyone who has been so nice. My mom has been a star inheloing out with Will; also my neighbor Karen. Everyone who sent well-wishes and tweets - thank you! I got some flowers and cards and phone calls and I appreciate everything so very much.
I'm now on Stage 1 Clear-Liquid Diet - water, juice, jello, Crystal Light, broth - until Sunday. Right now all I can bear is water (one ounce every 15 minutes) and jello.
Okay, I am exhausted.