The Fix

I was greatly anticipating the big surgery day with both excitement and dread.  I couldn't wait to get this whole thing taken care of, but I was petrified of going in to such a long surgery.  The long awaited day to repair my vesico uterine fistula had arrived.

My parents generously gave of their time to come and stay for the long weekend with us so that I could have Corey there with me in the hospital and also so someone other than Corey could take care of our little Dawson while I was in the hospital.  It was a huge load off of us both knowing that our boys were in good hands! 

The day of my surgery was May 8th, which also happens to be our wedding anniversary.  Happy Anniversary babe...now let's go spend a couple of stressful days at the hospital and celebrate!  Sheesh.  We checked in early that morning, they set up an IV, talked to us, and then wheeled me off.  The last thing I remember was something being put into my IV that they said would "relax" me, and that was that.  Six and a half hours later I was trying to claw my way back to consciousness while mumbling one word communications to Corey like "diarrhea"(I swear I felt like I needed to use the restroom!  How embarrassing), and "more" over and over because he was spooning ice chips into my ridiculously dry mouth and I really just wanted, well, more ice chips.  Corey talked to me some telling me it had gone 'textbook' (Dr.'s words), so I was feeling groggily hopeful.  Finally, when I was getting closer to coming out of it all, they wheeled me into a recovery room, and wanted me to walk to the bed.  All I could say to them was, "I'm sorry.  I'm not trying to be a whiner, but I can't even fully open my eyes yet, and there is no way I can walk to that bed."  My brain was working, just not the rest of my body. 

That night was stressful.  I was so glad to be done with the surgery, which was a little longer than we had expected, but now I was on to the part that would take some diligence.  Making sure the catheter was working was my numero uno priority or the whole thing would be unsuccessful.  The nurses that night were terrible.  They weren't checking the catheter often enough, if at all, and at one point after after doing a very slow and difficult walk down the hall, a nurse hooked me up to the saline again and I ended up with and infiltration (fluids seeping into my arm and tissues instead of to the vein).  That was a bummer.  My forearm felt strange, looked puffed up and took about 4 days to go away.

The next morning I was sore, drugged and stressed out of my mind after dealing with no sleep and trying to convince the nurses that my catheter was in fact a big deal.  Poor Corey.  He was dealing with all of that plus a crazy wife who was dishing out a little anesthetic induced meanness.  When the Dr.'s showed up to see how I was and gave me the option to stay another night or go home, we opted to leave.  We just couldn't see how we would be getting any better care by staying there.  Plus, I had a baby to feed, and pumping every few hours to try to get my milk supply up again after surgery was working ok, but Dawson, I was sure, would do a much better job.

After coming home, I was upstairs in bed for the better part of 4 days.  Those first few days, I felt like a zombie...barely alive, ghostly pale, no energy, sore and wiped out.  It was bad.  Nursing Dawson was tough because I was trying hard to keep him from putting too much pressure on all of my incisions, so I'd balance him really high on the Boppy.  I had 5 small cuts from the laprascopic route, and then a big lower abdominal (c-secion-ish) one too because the Dr. just couldn't see one side and ended up having to so he could be sure all was fixed.   I stopped taking the pain meds after 5 days, and even the ibuprofen after a week.  Once those first several days passed, things improved much faster, thankfully. My parents were amazingly helpful and wonderful to have there after I came home.  I was able to share a Mother's Day breakfast in bed with my mom which was fun and memorable.  Corey, and the boys made some yummy food and my mom and I hung out and snuggled with baby D.  Sweet!  My boys each had some awesome homemade cards/artwork for me, and it made me smile and laugh.  (Laughing was a killer!  The air trapped up against my diaphragm from surgery made laughing or crying awful.  I actually found myself begging Corey to stop talking and making me laugh a few times!)  A nice Mother's Day despite my aches and pains. 

Corey was great through this whole surgery ordeal.  He arranged things so he could work from home for a week.  Whenever I needed to feed Dawson or if I needed help with anything at all, he was right there to do it.  With my very own 'husband and father of the year' there to patiently help, and my amazing baby who sleeps well, cries little and smiles abundantly we made it through that first week.  Oh, and two weeks of meals being brought in by our ward family was a huge help too!!

Eleven days out from surgery, I went in for a cystogram.  The first time I had this done, I was an absolute mess and they couldn't even do it properly because I had such large holes and tears in my bladder.  This time I found out what they're really like.  I was beyond nervous before the procedure, because if surgery had failed, this was the test that would show it.  The radiologist filled my bladder full of contrast dye, which he watched on a screen to see if it stayed put or leaked out.  I was SO nervous!!  The procedure was akin to some type of torture, truly.  It was the best torture ever though because as I saw the screen I could tell that my bladder was holding firm.  I was fixed!!  I came out and found Corey, and gave him a hug and just cried and cried.  They were happy tears, stressed tears, tears of gratefulness and relief.  I was just so so happy.  We both were!  I will never forget that moment and how we felt.  So thankful to have each other to get through the hard things in this life together, and so much gratitude for a Heavenly Father and a Savior to carry me on through those tough times.  A few minutes later, our appointment with our amazing Dr. confirmed the success, and even he couldn't help but smile.  Out with the catheter...after 3 1/2 months, it was finally time to say goodbye. Hallelujah.  It was fantastic.

Now, 3 1/2 weeks out from surgery, I feel great.  Really great.  I am still not up to full-speed-ahead energy level, but beside that and watching what I lift, I feel like I'm healing up well and I'm thrilled about it.  I am so excited to wear jeans, to ditch the long skirts.  I am looking forward to taking a long hot bath sometime soon. I can't wait to start exercising again!  I am happy to be sleeping on my side, although I can now sleep on my back with no problem which is weird.  I am even happy to have to get up to pee in the middle of the night; something you never have to do when you're hooked up to a catheter, ha. 

The surgery worked, I am fixed (well, my bladder is at least), and I am filled with gratitude, happiness and joy.  I can't wait to do normal things with ease...playing with my kids, date nights with my husband, sleeping without worry.  Life really is about the simple things.