Saturday, August 31, 2013

Day 3: Post-Op

Mothers of young children are not allowed to be sick or recuperate from "procedures."   This is a fact.

I came home from my "procedure" three days ago.  I didn't realize that my endometrial ablation would include a tube down my throat and gas to put me out.  I thought I would wake up and be ready to go like I did from my colonoscopy which also used propofol.  This time my friend, the uterus, that I boiled, was on fire and let me know.  The ladies who said they stopped for lunch on the way home from this procedure, lied. {grin}

In Post-Op, I had very involved conversations with the nurse and he and I finally came to an understanding.  Communication is so important in all relationships!  I told him I wasn't a good reporter.  He would ask if I needed pain medicine, I would grimace and ask if it would knock me out again.  I don't like to be knocked out and I knew the kids needed to be picked up from carpool.  He and I would discuss the pros and cons of each pain reliever.  He would ask again if I needed pain reliever, I would grimace and then he delivered more medicine through the IV and out I went.  I had one spell of nausea that didn't last long.

On the way home from hospital when all I wanted to do so badly was go to bed, we had to swing by and pick up the children from carpool.  I just laid my head on the console and hoped it went quickly.  We make it home, I hit the bed and begged my husband to get the prescription pain medicine.

My youngest daughter learned that she won a $50 Walmart gift card from our library in a drawing of summer reading program participants.  She and my husband get my narcotics and her gift card.  Well, of course she wants to go to Walmart and pillage everything in the "My Little Pony"section and my husband comes to me during one of my conscious phases and asks if he can take her and leave Riley with me.  I say no.  Mallory holds off for a few minutes and comes in and cries about not being able to go.  My anger rises.  I'm in pain, and in and out of consciousness but I still have to make decisions.  I stay awake for a good period and decide it's better for them to go so that I don't have to take her later.

The next day, my friend drops off delicious Sweet Wishes Cupcakes.  I share them with the girls when they get home from school.  At this point, I am about 60%.  My throat hurts from the intubation tube, my uterus aches and I feel anesthesia fog.  As I work to drag Mallory to soccer practice of which she really, really wanted to play when I signed her up but now she despises and blames me for having to go, she decides to ask me why I ate the chocolate cupcake.

I lose it.  It's not pretty.  The words, "I'm the one who had a tube down my throat", "I'm the one who had my uterus boiled", and "It was MY friend who brought the cupcakes so I get to eat the CHOCOLATE one" come out of my mouth very loudly.

I apologize, we go to soccer practice, I don't really remember driving but I'm sure it was done safely.  The next day I have an aha that is okay for me to be cranky.  It is o-kay to be cranky.  No explanations, no rationale.  It is okay to disappoint others.  I have to take care of myself.  (Extreme self care= let me disappoint you) I don't have to be "on" all the time. And it is good for my children to know that as well.  They don't have to pretend that all is fine, all the time.  Authenticity.

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