I mentioned I was having surgery, so I thought I’d check in and tell you a little about how it’s been going.

I think there are moments in your life, little moments, that change you all the time. And then there are moments in your life, big moments, that you know you will never be the same after. This fits into the latter. I’d had some medical procedures, but this one has changed me forever. And I don’t just mean physically, but with everything.

How do I mean? Okay, so without specifically putting my entire medical history onto the internet, I will say I had laparoscopic surgery on some issues with my lower abdomen. It was what needed to happen to resolve some issues I’d been having. I knew back in May that I would be having this surgery, so it was scheduled for several months.

I was so stressed about it. I pretended I wasn’t, and put on a good face for everybody, but I was. I was scared of the pain. I was, well, afraid of my own mortality, because I thought, this is the first physical thing that I have had that is truly irreversible, I’m getting old, nothing will ever be the same again, what if I never wake up from surgery even, those sorts of thoughts. And I was scared of the pain, that it would hurt and how I would deal with that.

I realized, and this is stupid of me for realizing so late, that other people likely feel exactly like this going into surgery. How easy it is for us to compare our insides to other people’s outsides! How many times did I tell people good luck on their surgery and remind them of how successful it would be and that they had nothing to worry about? How likely it is that on the inside they were also terrified?

I had been so stressed that there were a couple of late night moments over the summer where I had a quasi panic attack, started crying and hyperventilating, that sort of thing. I just couldn’t imagine it. One of my coping mechanisms for life is visualizing outcomes, and for this I didn’t have enough to compare it too.

Luckily I had already been to the procedure center however, for an earlier procedure, and I did know what it would be like going under anesthesia, it was just the afterwards, and staying in the hospital, and being in pain that I had trouble with. And feeling like this was a decision I made, (the right decision, I believe) but still, I was doing something for an issue that wasn’t even causing me any obvious trouble.

As the time got closer, it became harder and harder to think or talk about, and the days just ticked down. My sister Leslie visited the two nights leading up to surgery as she was en route from her summer workplace to her home the rest of the year. It was a nice distraction. I had to drink a bunch of ensure drinks before the surgery, and wash with special soap.

Louie and I got up early a week ago, and arrived at St Clare Hospital by 5:30 am. Things got moving from there, checking in, paying, getting into my gown, getting my IV placed on my arm, etc. I was tired and stressed but also just ready to be done. The anesthesiologist came in to tell me what they would be doing, my doctor/surgeon came by (she was ready early, but we didn’t get started early), a bunch of other people stopped by, and then I was saying bye to Louie and they took me down the hallway to the surgery room. The people taking me (I don’t know if they were nurses, doctors, orderlies, whatever, you see so many different people) were joking amongst themselves about driving the stretcher, and seemed to enjoy their jobs. I imagine the sedation was already starting to kick in, but it was funny observing how my stretcher kept gaining people walking with us, from 2 people to 4 or 5 people. And then we stopped and I helped move myself from the stretcher to the operating table, and that’s all I remember of that.

I woke up in the recovery room with a nurse by me who I had met before. I was in pain, I felt cramping, pain, and also an intense feeling of having to urinate. She told me I shouldn’t have to but I insisted I did (I did) and I asked for more pain meds and asked how it went. She said it went very well, just as planned. I remember going in and out of sleeping there, and feeling like the pain was worst than I had imagined and wondering what on earth the anesthesiologist had meant about how they would make sure I was comfortable. I will say this: though I was able to sleep off and on, I was in no way comfortable. I don’t know if that is normal for surgery, but I was in quite a lot of pain for the rest of the day, and always wanted more medicine than they were willing to give me.

After awhile they took me up to my private room for the rest of the day and overnight. Louie was already there, and I was situated on the bed. I was more alert (likely not too much) but I wasn’t feeling well. The nurse tried to get me to eat some, and I was feeling nauseated. I finally did eat a little when she told me if I ate something she could give me a stronger pain medicine. I rested the afternoon away, and Louie napped as well–the room had places for family to sleep.

Anyway, I was up for eating by dinner time, so I ordered some food. I ended up not having much of an appetite, so I didn’t eat much of the quesadilla I’d ordered, but I did enjoy the chocolate brownie. (If you are staying at St Clare’s Hospital in Fenton, order the chocolate brownie). I was surprised by how many items there were on the menu to order, and I could have anything I wanted! It is too bad I was sick and wasn’t able to really take advantage of this.

I was still mostly lying on my side because of the pain and cramping, and my right shoulder also hurt tremendously. It had been hurting the previous few months and especially during opera, so I wasn’t super surprised, but since then it’s been fine, and I think that oddly the surgery made it worse! (this is a real thing.) At some point after dinner, Louie went home to sleep and see the cats. My night nurse gave me something to help me sleep, I think, and I ended up having the best night’s sleep I’d had in a long time! I believe I slept from 12:45 (the last time I called her in to help walk me to the bathroom) until 7 am.

I woke up and got my vitals checked (they did this periodically), got my medicine, and ordered my breakfast. I was pretty hungry but didn’t want to eat too much (they warned me not to because of digestive issues), though I could eat anything I liked. Louie came back after awhile, and I got discharged mid-morning. They took me down in a wheelchair and helped me into the car and we went home. I really can’t say nice enough things about the nurses and the staff at St. Clare: they were fantastic across the board and I would gladly have stayed another day for their help.

Getting home went well, and then getting into the the house wasn’t so bad. I couldn’t walk too well, it was impossible to stand upright, but I made it and he helped me get situated on the bed. And that was the day really. Each day has gotten a little better, and today I woke up feeling the best yet, thankfully. I am still not sure if I can sit up for a long time–it’s easier to stand up or lie down, but I feel like today I might be able to sit upright longer than before, and will try to walk around the house even more. I’m not on the stronger pain pills anymore–I started cutting those off on Monday but I’m still taking regular ibuprofen and tylenol. My incisions hurt sometimes, and itch sometimes, and definitely freak me out, but they look like they are healing just fine.

The days have passed quickly, and Louie has been the best at helping out: the first few days I needed him for absolutely everything and he was amazing. We had people stop by and bring food and visit and that has been really nice too, much nicer than I realized. I didn’t share much beforehand with people, and I shared on instagram, and the well wishes really lifted my spirits. I’d been feeling stressed out, and a bit lonely and depressed, and it is so wonderful to be on the other side of this. I am thankful to my family and friends for being there for me, and for being supportive and helpful and kind and generous.

I don’t know if I’ll ever have to have another surgery, but if so, I think I’ll have a much better idea of what to expect. I also hope that I can better support my friends and family who might go through a similar thing.

I am still feeling okay sitting here typing, but I might go lie down again soon anyway. The one thing people keep emphasizing is to take it easy especially as you start to feel better, and that you might get really tired all of sudden. I am planning to do some teaching starting on Monday, but I need to be able to sit upright for several hours at a time for that. I think I should be okay, as today is only Wednesday and I can tell I’m feeling better today than yesterday, but continuing to rest and do light walking around the house will probably help the most.

I had been unsure of what to pack for the hospital. I packed some toiletries, pjs, a change of clothes, my kindle, chargers, and an extra battery pack for charging. I didn’t need most of this: I wore my glasses the whole time, I did brush my teeth but not the first day. The battery pack was useful though so I could have my phone near me overnight without risk of it dying. I couldn’t concentrate well enough to read my kindle, and of course I was wearing the gown and slipper socks they gave me and that was fine. I was glad to have my things with me in case though, so there’s no harm in packing more than you need, but I guess I really only needed my phone battery pack and charging cord, my toothbrush and toothpaste, and a ponytail holder for my hair.

So that’s it, one week later. I think it was just about one week ago exactly that I was waking up, so I’ve come a long way in that week. One last thought, as I was waking up, I remember thinking to myself that while I could wake up, it didn’t matter, because I had the rest of the day off, and I could finally just rest. It has been nice having time off just to rest, and letting myself heal, and knowing that that is all I really have to do.