|A female Melinda sp.|
16 June, 2017
25 May, 2017
09 April, 2017
In my usual efficient way, I researched all about fibroid tumors and since mine was hanging off my uterus, it would be a simple in and out procedure laparoscopically. A day in the hospital and back home, easy at that, right? Made the appointment to have a second ultrasound (the first one was inconclusive as unbeknownst to me, I needed a full bladder) and figured I would have the surgery after the ultrasound.
The surgery was performed laparoscopically and I only had 4 small incisions in my belly. They planned on removing my female junk through the hole in my belly button (they insert a 'bag' into the hole, load it up with all the stuff coming out and then they pull the bag out), but since the tutor was 8cm I 'birthed' it.
She assured me that I had a catheter in and that I don't have to get up to go to the bathroom. I dozed off then and when I awoke again, I still 'had to pee' so bad and since I didn't research the logistics of a catheter, I thought maybe I had to actually pee in the catheter, like it was a funnel or something. So I commenced trying to 'pee' in my catheter. Pushing so hard that I'm surprised that I didn't shoot the catheter out! I thought that maybe I had a mental block as you normally just don't pee in your bed. Mind over matter, I kept trying to pee! I summoned the nurse numerous times and the poor guy just kept confirming to me that my catheter was working and he actually lifted it up so I could see the filled pee bag. I was not convinced though and longingly starred through tear stained eyes at a door at the far end of the recovery room that I just knew led to a bathroom! I was convinced that when the nurse (who was sleeping in the room) got up to use the toilet, I would get off the bed and squat down on the floor and finally pee!
I fell into a restless sleep hoping each time that I dozed off that my 'mental block' would release and I would 'pee the bed'. The next morning, when the doctor came in, I clearly and articulately explained that I still needed to pee so bad. Her explanation which fell on my deaf ears showed the frustration on her face. Then like a lightbulb, she said, do you have pain pointing to my gut and I said "YES!" She turned to the nurse and said something that sounded like "Hit her up!" and gloriously a pain killer was injected into my IV and my 'bladder' pain miraculously went away.
Grant it, I didn't remember any of the above until about day 3 in the hospital. Then the memory came rushing back to me and I was so embarrassed when the nurse and doctor came into my room. I wanted to apologise but didn't even know where to start, plus it wouldn't seem sincere since every time I thought of it, I would crack up laughing at myself. I cannot imagine how on earth he and the doctor kept a straight face while I was going on and on that I couldn't pee in my catheter. My nurse probably took a video and as I type it's going viral on some Cambodian video site!
So I opted to pull the machine with me as far as the electrical cord would reach and then try to reach the bathroom as far as the tubing would reach. This failed and in doing so, I probably pulled the needle out of my vein not realising it. Defeated, I pulled everything back in order and rang the nurse so I could pee. Later that evening, the nurse came in and put pain killers into the IV bag and I fell asleep and that's when I awoke to the pain in my arm. I mentioned it to the late night nurse and she rubbed my arm and said it was okay and that I would go home tomorrow and no, she could not take it out.
I contemplated either pulling it out myself because it felt like molten lava was slowly dripping into my arm, but I just didn't have the energy and figured I had caused enough trouble for one patient and sucked it up. The next morning the nurse came in and changed the IV with another full bag! I said, look at my arm, which was red and swelling and she said the doctor will come in soon, I said, can you get her now please (with tears in my eyes for added affect). About 10 minutes later, the doctor arrived all gleeful stating that I could go home as soon as the IV bag was empty. I said, "But look at my arm!" and she glanced at it and then rushed around to the other side of the bed and said quite matter of factly, "You can be finished now." as she removed the IV from my arm.
With my stomach half the size from when I went in, I was verbally released. I was given pain killers along with the antibiotic, but since I had not had any painkillers for about 12 hours when my IV somehow came out of my vein, I opted out of them. I was then officially signed out, given a detailed bill of my stay and released uterus-less and cervix-less back into society.
This blog post is overdue as tomorrow it will have been 4 weeks to the day from surgery. I came back to Opot and obeyed the strict 'no lifting anything over 10 lbs' post-op instructions for a month. Although in typing this, I realised that it's only been 4 weeks, instead of five, soo...I obeyed the instruction for 3 weeks instead of four, oops. I have felt great since coming home and had no problems or pain whatsoever.
The kids, staff and a few village women are/were infatuated with the holes in my stomach, though, as a couple showed me their C-section scars...I explained to the girls what the surgery consisted of and the why and how of it all. A few of them explained to the others, to the best of their ability, as to what happened to me. Probably translated to something like the home of the baby was torn down and removed...