Mental Breakdown #1

Surgery is a painful thing.

This post is dedicated to setting aside the "oh how wonderful"s 

and focus on the real.

When I was in the hospital I impressed myself with how well I was handling the pain.

By Wednesday I thought to myself "Oh, I can totally go home today".

Some things I did not consider when I made this assessment:

1. I was given Morphine every 2 hours almost to the minute. If I even so much as whimpered, all I had to do was push a button and someone came rushing in to almost immediately relieve that pain.  

2. I would not have Morphine at home

3. The prescription pain killers they would give me would take longer to kick in and I would be able to use them less frequently than the morphine. 

4. I would no longer have an IV to keep me hydrated. 

I started Wednesday just feeling great.

I did a couple laps around the nurses station that we could almost consider struts. 

I was able to get myself in and out of bed almost without help,

and I was able to stay awake longer than the other two days. 

I felt like I was ready to go home.

So went its time to release me, 

they disconnect my IV

give me a prescription,

and send me on my merry little way.

When we get home I take my usual nap, 

and I sink so far into my dad's side of my parents bed that I'm sure passerby's would have thought I was fused to the thing. 

And the thing is, that when I sink into the bed 

its really hard to adjust from there. 

So I'm basically stuck in one position for multiple hours.

Not always bad, but if I fall asleep for multiple hours without moving,

I wake up with not only abdominal pains but also back and neck kinks. 

Wednesday evening this exact thing happened,

when I woke up I was in a lot of pain. 

My pain medicine had worn off, and my back and neck were cramped up so bad

that no matter what position I was in, 

I was in so much pain.

Lean forward- back relief, abdomen pain

Lean back, abdomen relief, serious back relief. 

Get up- pain all over.

I asked for my mama nurse to get me some meds stat! 

She regretfully informed me that it had only been 3 hours since I had taken it 

and I was going to have to wait another hour.

I groaned and tried to get comfortable.

Which only lasted about 10 minutes.

After 10 minutes I seriously LOST it.

I was a hot mess.

I hurt everywhere.

I was exhausted, 

emotional,

and I seriously didn't think I could handle waiting another hour.
I started crying so hard that my parents tried to lay me down the couch with my legs up so that I could maybe relieve some of the pressure on my back while laying down.
As everyone was surrounded me and trying so kindly to help me get comfortable,
Lucy our dog could tell I was in distress and in an effort to sooth me,
jumped on my stomach.

Then, I really lost it.
The real meltdown began and it  looked a little too much like these:

(Imagine that the bottle is full of my pain medication) 

But only Miranda could really understand me:

Not a pretty sight. 

It got to the point where it hurt to cry and breathe because I was so tense.

After the hour was up, 

I was given my sweet(/actually the nastiest tasting) elixir and felt relief. 

Soon, exhausted from the melt down, I feel asleep for the night.

But no need to worry folks! 

Then next morning my mom called my nurse. 

We found out that because my medication doesn't have any Tylenol in it, 

that if it starts to wear off at 3 hours that I can take (liquid) Tylenol to ease the pain for the last hour 

so we don't have another "episode".

The embarrassing part

Disclaimer: This post is incredibly embarrassing and a little bit T.M.I. (Too much information). In an effort to share my experiences, I think its important to share things that are not always comfortable or exciting. If you are easily embarrassed, you don't know me that well, or are a future potential dating prospect please do not read this post. 

So here is the deal:

My surgery was what we call Laparoscopic which means they make multiple small incisions

(which I will not post pictures of)

and they use tiny little instruments to cut my stomach out. 

This is awesome because instead of having to cut me all the way open,

I basically will only have a few smaller scars.

Rockin' and Rollin'. 

To make sure that the tiny instruments get the job done 

first, they fill my abdomen up with a gas so they can have lots of room. 

When the surgery is done, they try to get as much of the gas out as possible.... but....

some of it has to come out naturally.

On Monday, I honestly didn't feel that different,

but Tuesday and Wednesday had me feeling like Aunt Marge

Honestly it was super uncomfortable and a bit painful.

And no matter what I did, I just could not get any of it out. 

Seriously though it wasn't pleasant. 

My nurses insisted that all I would have to do is to get out of my bed and get moving 

and the rest would come naturally.

But let me tell you, simply walking around was not cutting it.

As weird as it sounds I think that part of the problem 

is that I still can't say I completely understand my own anatomy. 

Plus it didn't help that the Timehop dinosaur was totally taunting me.

Are you kidding me Timehop? 

Are you trying to make me feel even more frustrated with the situation? 

Rude.

By the time that evening came around, there was seriously too much pressure and it was painful.

This is about the time that my dad, my aunt Grace, cousin Isabella, 

and the brother in law Casey came to visit. 

My dad had me sitting on couch patting my back like he was trying to burp a baby

ok, because honestly that is exactly what he was doing.

Grace and Isabella thought the whole things was hysterical.

Before I knew what was happening they were chanting

"fart! fart! fart!" 

with the door wiiiiiide open for the entire floor to hear.

Next came the paper towel "inspirational" posters trying to motivate me.
"fart on"
"get the fart out!"
and simply just
"fart!"
Now I wish I had taken pictures, but I think I was so embarrassed that I didn't even consider it.

#awkward.