KEEP POOPIN’
After 10 days in the hospital I am finally home. This is a written account of those 10 days:
WEDNESDAY JUNE 29, 2011 (DAY 1):
I began a diet of clear fluids at midnight of June 29. I arrived at the hospital around noon with two bags of luggage. They signed me in and off I went to Unit 44 - Active Treatment Centre at the Royal Alexandra Hospital in Edmonton, Alberta. Though we requested a private room they only had semi-private rooms available. My room mate was a wonderfully kind older woman a day away from discharge. I changed into more comfortable clothes, got my wrist bands and the nurse began delivering the 4 litres ofbowel prep I had to drink over the next two days. When my room mate overheard that I was beginning my bowel prep she asked where the nearest washroom was so as not to hold up the bathroom. The kindness of strangers should not go unnoticed. They began my heparin shots that night, a blood thinner you receive twice a day pre and post op.
THURSDAY JUNE 30, 2011 (DAY 2):
More bowel prep. A nursing student attempted to start my IV and failed so I got poked four times this day (including the heparin). IVs are not my favourite thing (obviously). My diet of clear fluids ended at 11:59 p.m. and so began nearly a week of saline drip with nothing to eat or drink.
FRIDAY JULY 1, 2011 (DAY 3 aka CANADA DAY):
At 8 in the morning my Mom awoke me because they had just announced my bed for OR transport. My surgeon had been warning us that my time in the hospital would be a waiting game; he was hoping to squeeze me in on Day 3 but he felt fairly certain it wouldn’t happen until Day 5. Nope. While I couldn’t go when they actually called (I was bumped by an emergency thoracic case), a porter arrived at about 2 p.m. to bring me to the OR. My wonderful (and favourite) nurse, Teresa, quickly ran around prepping me; this included a rushed attempt to remove the nail polish from my toe nails. They wheeled me down with my Mom following close behind. They let her into the pre-op waiting room because she is a nurse at the hospital and while they covered my head with a mesh cap she sat next to me, keeping me company. The anesthetist came out and offered me an epidural that would provide constant morphine. I obviously agreed. I looked at my Mom and said, “If I come out of here with a bag, I am gonna be so pissed” and as they wheeled me away my Mom kissed me and said, “You’re one of my favourite people you know? I love you”. That’s something I will never forget. I slid over onto the OR table and curved my back for the epidural. Then they put a blue mask over my nose and mouth and I fell asleep. 4 hours later I awoke in the recovery room. I immediately asked the nurse if I had a bag, she said no and I fell back asleep. The next time I came to, I felt an unbearable itch in my nose so when the nurse had her back turned, I pulled the oxygen tubes from my nose and began to itch. I fell asleep again and woke up as they were pushing me back to my room; waiting by the door was my Dad, Mom and sister. I gave them the thumbs up and immediately began scratching my face. I was experiencing a side-effect to the epi-morphine. While my two youngest sisters held my hands, my Grandma covered my face with a cold cloth. I had already scratched my face raw. That night is a blur of weird and vivid 30 second dreams and Canada Day fireworks. My room mate was discharged the day before and no one had replaced her so my Mom spun the whole bed around allowing me to see them from my window. She managed to stay with me that night, curled up in a chair.
My surgery involved a large and small bowel resection, appendectomy, fistula removal and abscess removal. My bladder wall was stuck to my bowel wall, this had to be carefully scraped apart and separated with a lining of fat taken from my large bowel. My ureter, right ovary and right fallopian tube were found to be involved in the large abscess that had taken over my right side. They are embedded in scar tissue and possibly ruined but were left intact.
SATURDAY JULY 2, 2011 (DAY 4):
I got up for a bed side wash; standing up and sitting down in a chair right next to my bed was about all I could handle in the morning. I fell asleep immediately after that. The visitors are a blur until the evening when I know my parents good friends came. The wife, Leeca, is also a nurse. Her and my Mom got me up to walk for the first time that evening, one day post-op! I walked about 2 metres from my door and let me tell you, that is EXHAUSTING.
SUNDAY JULY 3, 2011 (DAY 5):
Second day post-op, I can now remember my surgical team beginning their daily visits to my bed side at 6 a.m. This was always followed by a breakfast I couldn’t eat or blood work. I walked a little more. I prided myself on walking with such a straight back compared to some of the other patients on my unit. Little did I know it was only because of my epidural. I had my first shower that afternoon. I let my Mom and sister bathe me while I slowly pulled the dressing off my incision site. When it finally came off and I saw it for the first time I almost fainted. My Mom quickly covered me with my house coat and basically carried me back to my bed. My favourite nurse Teresa let my Mom do the first dressing change, I was relieved to cover it back up. My Mom stayed the night with me again.
MONDAY JULY 4, 2011 (DAY 6):
My third day post-op. The surgical team began the daily routine, asking me if I have passed gas to which I had to reply, “Nope, haven’t even felt a bubble”. I had a lot of visitors and did a lot of walking. I showered and had another dressing change; it was not nearly as traumatizing this time. My Mom went home and I spent my first night alone but it didn’t matter, I slept well those first few days.
TUESDAY JULY 5, 2011 (DAY 7):
I felt incredibly nauseous the morning of my fourth day post-op starting around 4 a.m. There were a couple times I almost hurled but I took deep breaths and calmed myself down. When the surgical team arrived I told them how I’d been feeling and they ordered Zofran. However, before I could receive the IV drip for this medication, I threw up. I tried to splint my incision site (apply firm pressure to it with my arm) but I cannot begin to express how painful it is to hurl after major abdominal surgery. I called my Mom between heaves, begging her to come to the hospital. When she arrived I immediately cried out that I was going to get an NG (nasogastric) tube which would keep my stomach empty and allow my bowels more time to rest. However, when my surgeon did rounds he informed me that I was safe unless I hurled again the next day. This day was a grumpy day on which I turned down all my visitors and spent most of the day sleeping. I also had a new room mate on this day. She was in for liver and pancreatic cancer and that certainly put things in perspective. It was a little jolt of reality I needed before bed.
WEDNESDAY JULY 6, 2011 (DAY 8):
During rounds of my fifth day post-op I was able to inform the surgical team that I had not thrown up again. However, this is also the day I was pretty much expected to pass some gas. This made me feel panicky and anxious and I spent this day trying a million different positions to get the cramps and gas bubbles to form a real fart. They told me to begin trying small sips of clear fluids and see how I tolerated it. This was the first day in 5 days that I felt water pass through my throat. However, I was so terrified of hurling and getting an NG tube I barely drank anything that day. They removed my epidural which was actually a relief because laying on it was beginning to make my back sore. I received a shot of morphine soon after that and began walking like everyone else, all hunched over. The shots of morphine made me nauseous and I needed about 3 rounds of Zofran that night. I began to have a harder and harder time sleeping on this night too. Day 7 and 8 (or 4 and 5 post-op) were real low days for me. I spent a lot of time crying and just being generally miserable. However, at about 9 p.m. I had my first fart, a moment my whole family celebrated with me.
THURSDAY JULY 7, 2011 (DAY 9):
My sixth day post-op marks the day of my first poo! And while it came as a bit of a surprise, it began a day of good energy with lots of laughs and positive thoughts. They took out my IV for the day so I had a lot more freedom of movement. That morning the surgical team informed me I would begin a diet of full fluids so for lunch I had my first “solid” food item in 8 days! It was butterscotch pudding and WOW, I have never tasted something so good in my life. I could only eat half of it but I will forever be grateful for butterscotch pudding, it holds a special place in my heart. This day involved more trips to the bathroom and gifts for my surgeon. Somewhere along the way I also came to terms with my scar; this was a very good feeling and I am very grateful to my surgeon for doing such a beautiful job. I also had a cystogram (X-Ray of my bladder being filled and emptied to check for leaks) on this day, the results of which were positive. This meant my catheter could come out as soon as the report was completed.
FRIDAY JULY 8, 2011 (DAY 10):
This is my seventh day post-op. At 4:30 a.m. my nurse removed my catheter. At 6:30 a.m. my surgical team informed me I could attempt a diet of regular food and if this was tolerated well, I could go home. For breakfast I had Cream of Wheat, unfortunately this tasted like cardboard and was highly anticlimactic as my first breakfast. HOWEVER, for lunch I had a Grilled Cheese Sandwich, which made my Mom and I laugh. This was my number one craving post-op and I had been declaring this for several days! I could only eat half, given the shrunken size of my stomach but it was deeeeeelicious. At about 2 p.m. my nurse removed my staples and at about 5 p.m. she removed my Jackson-Pratt drain. Having that pulled from my stomach was probably the weirdest feeling I have ever experienced in my life and if anything has deterred me from putting myself back in a flare-up by making poor lifestyle choices, it’s that thing. At 5:30 p.m. I walked out of that hospital with my bags packed and a smile on my face. I came home to balloons and “Welcome Home” signs. My littlest sister found a long skinny balloon, which she blew up and wrote “Keep Poopin’” on with a sharpie. I am comfortably lounging in my own bed with no tubes and no pain.
I have a follow up in a couple weeks but as of right now I am in remission. I still have a peri-anal fistula that has been bothering me since the surgery but this is something we will likely deal with in a month or so unless it settles down. I will discuss preventative measures with my gastroenterologist in the near future but this will certainly involve diet changes (no dairy, alcohol, nuts, seeds or multigrain anything and a reduction in fruits, veggies-NO SKINS and caffeine from coffee and chocolate) and may also include a long-term drug plan on Imuran.
And that about sums it up, I just intend to keep on poopin’.
