I have a running joke with my dad that my parents got me a terrible warranty on my body when I was born. I didn’t know how true that was going to prove to be when it seems that suddenly, on my 50th birthday, the thing expired!
I’m sort of joking, but it certainly felt like that.
For my 50th birthday I had a lovely party the weekend before jointly with dear friend who is also a December baby. We had fun. The food was great. There were crayons. Mike hid upstairs because he had a cold.
Which I woke up with on my birthday. It was a very nasty cold. The worst one I’ve had in years. But still, just a cold.
Except the next week, when Mike was feeling better, I had bronchitis. We took a trip to the doctor and I got antibiotics so I could spend the next week coughing up goo. I used to get bronchitis three or four times a season, but I haven’t had it since I figured out my food allergies. Maybe 2008?
By Saturday, I was very, very tired of coughing. And I guess I did it wrong. I ate some supper and my stomach started hurting. A lot. I went to bed and in the morning my stomach still hurt. A lot. All day I couldn’t settle and I didn’t want to eat. Then I started throwing up and all that started adding up to a Bad Thing.
We went to the emergency room and sure enough, the hernia I knew about, which has been quietly minding it’s own business for years, was now strangulated. Meaning a piece of my intestine has been pushed out through the hole in the muscle due to excessive coughing force and is now trapped. Not good.
Sometime around midnight on December 15 I had an emergency hernia repair.
If you have to spend time in the hospital for surgery, I do not recommend doing it while you are sick. I do not recommend abdominal surgery while you are coughing. And I absolutely do not recommend any sort of hospital experience while you have laryngitis. Most hospital protocols require you to be able to talk. Like when you press the call button for someone to help you to the bathroom, they generally ask what you need. If you have laryngitis, they can not hear you. I don’t know why there wasn’t a note placed with my records that I couldn’t talk, but it was quite annoying.
I think the worst part of the whole experience wasn’t even exactly related to the surgery. They put in an NG tube to help me process drainage. I’m not quite sure why because my stomach wasn’t messed with, and I never remembered to ask anyone why I needed it. They tried to put in while I was still in the emergency room. They were taken aback when I explained that if they were going to put a tube down my throat, and I wasn’t arguing that point, I WAS going to panic. So they might want to prepare for that. I got some nice drugs, but they didn’t help at all. Sure enough I panicked, and no one really thought through that I’d been sick, so my sinuses were all swollen. Next thing I know it’s a gushing bloody nose and they’re putting it off until I’m in surgery. I woke up with the thing and was able to pretty much ignore it until one of the nurses didn’t like how it was taped to my face and started messing with it. Which caused it to shift, and me to panic again because I couldn’t breathe again, and out it came. One of the surgical associates twice brought up how, if I had any trouble they’d have to put it back, until I interrupted him the second time and pointed out all he was doing was stressing me out and could we please deal with it when/if it happened. Which I’m very glad to report it didn’t.
The next week was full of good drugs by iv, walks with the physical therapist, watching a lot of horrible television because I can’t really read while on the good drugs, and bemoaning the fact that I couldn’t brush my hair because of the iv in my arm. Or, not that I couldn’t brush it, but I wouldn’t be able to braid it after. Until one day a new young nurse comes in with her own long hair in a braid and she promises to do mine up for me! That was pretty much my week while I waited for my gut to wake up and start processing after abdominal surgery.
Hospitals aren’t fun, but other than the NG tube issue, I didn’t really have any complaints. All the staff was helpful and generally caring. I did have one nurse who was technically proficient, but her personality probably would have been suited to a different line of work, but it wasn’t really a problem. After 5 days I got to go home with a huge number of staples holding my belly together, a drain on each side, and instructions not to lift anything heavier than a gallon of milk. Which is 8lbs. I looked it up.
One Rat Studies 
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