Post Op Days 7 & 8

I want to take a quick minute to thank all of you for your positive thoughts and prayers for me this week. It means a lot. It’s been taxing emotionally, physically, mentally… so I’ve appreciated all of the support from family, friends, coworkers, and even all of you whom I have never met before!

In case you’re somehow starting at this post, I’ll give my quick recap: I was diagnosed with acute appendicitis at 22 weeks, 3 days pregnant. Before the doctors could get me into surgery, my appendix ruptured, and all hell broke loose. As a result of the rupture, the recovery has been long. My surgery was a week ago today, and I’m still in the hospital! Here is a recap of my experience over the last few days. (See previous posts for updates from earlier this week.)

THURSDAY
I was awakened by one of the OB doctors around 1 a.m. on Thursday morning, which was out of the ordinary. To my surprise, she told me that the trauma surgery team (who had performed my appendectomy) had ordered an MRI of my abdomen, and that I would be taken down within the next few hours. Yes, in the middle of the night. I had a bad day on Wednesday—physically, I was in a lot more pain again, and mentally, I was losing my sanity from being here at the hospital. So the doctors were concerned about things: my ileus (temporary paralysis of my intestines), and also that I might be developing a “pocket” of infection as a result of all of the gunk that was released into my belly when my appendix ruptured. The MRI would give them answers.

Half asleep, I was asked some pre-screening MRI questions, and then I dozed back off. An hour later, I was being awakened by my nurse, who told me that transport was here to take me downstairs for the MRI. It was sort of creepy, being wheeled through the halls of the hospital and taken downstairs in the basement in the middle of the night like that. It was quiet, and I was out of it, so looking back on it all now, it almost seems like the whole thing was a dream.

I’ve never had an MRI before, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. I had heard that some people have a hard time with them because they are claustrophobic. But once I was prepped and they pushed me into the machine, I kept my eyes closed and was able to relax—so much so that I was very close to sleeping in there, despite the loud noises the machine makes (they at least gave me ear plugs). It was funny, because as soon as the loud noises started, the baby started jumping all over inside of my belly. He/she was probably wondering what the heck was going on!

All in all, the process took a little over an hour. I was back in my room shortly after 3 a.m. After another round of meds and a vitals check, I was back to sleep. But not for long—at 4 a.m., I was awakened again by a surgical resident, who was there on her morning rounds. WTF? She said she wanted to let me know that the team had ordered an MRI to check on things. I stopped her and said, “I know. I already went down for the MRI at 2 a.m.” She seemed surprised they had taken me down so quickly, and said, “Oh, so you’ve been up all night. And here I am waking you up again. I’m sorry. We’ll be by to see you later this morning to talk about the results.”

Just for the record? I never saw anyone from the trauma surgery team yesterday. At all. That particular team’s level of care? I’m not impressed.

In the morning—at a much more reasonable hour—I heard through my OB doctors and nurses that the MRI results came back fine. There weren’t any signs of infection, just confirmation of the ileus. They concluded that the increased pain I had experienced Wednesday was likely due to the ileus, too. As a next step, the team decided to step up “Operation: Wake Up Bowels” with additional medications.

I’ll just cut to the chase here and say that several hours later? It worked.

Things were definitely looking up after that. They pretty much immediately put me back on the “clears” diet (water, juice, Jell-O, popsicles, broth, etc.). If all went well, they said, I’d get to eat FOOD soon.

The other highlight of the day? They sent a sonographer to do a growth ultrasound on the baby. Given that it had been a week since I’d eaten, they wanted to double check and make sure that the baby was still getting what it needs. She was by far the friendliest sonographer I’ve ever had—she “ooh”ed and “ahh”ed over our sweet baby and its fingers, toes, nose and lips. It was also so comfortable, me lounging in my hospital bed, her sitting on the edge of the bed with the portable machine pulled up in a way so I could see everything. After the day that I had on Wednesday, this was a welcome “treat.” She printed off a dozen photos for me to have, and burned us a CD, too! So nice.

And the good news? Everything looks great with the baby. Plenty of fluid, the size measurements were within normal range, and baby was moving everywhere. It’s good to know that with all of the pain and suffering I’ve been through, our little one is basically unaffected. The baby had its feet up in its face for almost the entire ultrasound, which was hilarious—flexibility FTW! The sonographer spent more time than she probably should have trying to get a good 4D shot of his/her face. At the last minute, the baby moved its feet long enough to get the shot above. Not bad, right? :)

I was also seen by a nutritionist on Thursday afternoon. My doctors were starting to get concerned with how I had not eaten in a week. Although I was getting fluid and electrolytes through my IV fluids, I wasn’t getting nutrition. There was talk about my possibly needing a PICC line (also known as a central line) through which to provide nutrition. The nutritionist asked questions about my height and pre-pregnancy weight, as well as my general eating habits and whether I have any dietary restrictions. It was a short conversation—she said that she was willing to give me another day or two for my bowels to get things in order before seriously discussing the PICC line. And thankfully, as I already told you, by afternoon, things had progressed so that this no longer seems like it will be necessary. Yay!

The rest of the day’s events were pretty standard. A lot of lying around, walking the floor, visiting with Michael, Nora, and my mom. The staples in my incision really started to bother me (they’re pulling, ouch!) so I begged to have them removed but the surgeons said no. I planned to revisit the subject with the surgical resident during his rounds in the morning.

It was certainly a good day to help counteract the one I had on Wednesday.

FRIDAY
Officially one week post-surgery. I can’t believe I’m still here, but it is what it is.

I didn’t sleep very well last night. No reason in particular—I just woke up frequently. The surgical resident shocked me by not coming by until between 5:30-6 a.m. (they’ve routinely been coming by between 4-4:30 a.m. all week, brutal). I had a conversation with him about my “victory” from yesterday, and also pleaded my case for having my staples removed. He still refused to remove them, but said he would check with the attending. He was happy to hear of my progress and recommended I continue with the “clears diet” today. I was disappointed to hear that (I’m not much a fan of the clears these days! I want FOOD!), but he gave me a glimmer of hope by saying that if the morning went well, maybe they’d graduate me to food in the afternoon.

I was able to go back to sleep until 7:30 or so, then started texting Michael and my family with updates. To my surprise, my nurse soon came in and handed me a menu—she said I had been cleared to EAT! I was so excited. I poured over the menu for several minutes, trying to figure out what my first meal was going to be. They had warned me to start slow, so although pancakes and home fries sounded incredible, I took a few steps back and ordered cereal and a blueberry muffin. And it’s a good thing I did, because I ate only a small handful of cereal and 1/3-1/2 of the muffin before I was STUFFED. I guess my stomach needs to learn how to handle normal amounts of food again! The good news is that aside from feeling a little bit uncomfortable from being full, I tolerated the food. None of it came back up. Score!

I continued to make “progress” in the intestinal department, if you know what I mean, so things were good. And, my pain was pretty under control today as well, so things are definitely looking up. I felt like I was in a little bit of “a mood” for a few hours in the middle of the day, for no reason other than I’m sick of being here. But it was nothing like the down-in-the-dumps feeling I had on Wednesday, so I bounced back.

I relaxed all morning, just watching junk on TV. It was one of the first times that I felt like I was really just lying around and relaxing. Of course, I’ve been doing that all week, but I felt so sick and in so much pain that it never really felt RELAXING, if that makes sense. Today? As long as I didn’t make any sudden or big movements (which cause me pain), you could’ve fooled me that I was maybe just having a lazy day in bed for no reason. :)

For lunch, I ordered a turkey sandwich on 12-grain bread. I ate just about half of it and again was too full. But hey, I was EATING, and I was happy about it.

My grandma and aunt came to visit in the late afternoon, while Michael ran home for a bit and then to pick up Nora. When Nora arrived tonight, she was in a great mood, and I just felt… happy. I’d be happier if I could go home, of course, but this was much more like it. I ordered some spaghetti and meatballs with a side of broccoli for dinner, and instead of eating the dinner that Michael had brought for her, Nora insisted on sharing with me. Perfectly fine, given that I knew I couldn’t come close to eating all of it anyway! She made a mess of my bed, haha, but it was fun to sit right next to my girl and share a plate of spaghetti together.

Just a funny side note: We’ve been way more lenient with “treats” for Nora this week than we normally are. At home, “dessert” consists of fruit or applesauce. But here at the hospital with me, when she’s eaten good meals, we’ve let her have something special—popsicles, for instance. Tonight, we wanted to get her going so Michael could get home and get her to bed at a more decent hour than what has been happening, so I suggested grabbing a pudding out of the patient fridge instead. Michael brought it and I opened it up. She must’ve been hoping for another popsicle, because as soon as Nora saw it, she said, “Yucky!” I said, “Nora, this is NOT yucky. Believe me. You don’t even know what this is, do you?” It occurred to me that she’s never had pudding before. We told her it’s like ice cream, so she opened up her mouth cautiously, with a funny look on her face. A second later? She was grabbing the spoon from me and gobbling it up, refusing to share. THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT, KID. What a goof.

Anyway… today, they also transitioned me from the IV antibiotics to an oral form. AND, once I started eating solids and made it through a few meals, they disconnected me from the IV fluids, too. I still have the IV inserted in my arm just in case, but even just being disconnected from the tubes makes me feel so much more FREE! And because my pain is better today than it has been, I’ve been able to get out of bed (mostly) by myself. As a result, I’ve been up more frequently, which means I haven’t had to wear my compression stockings all day. Woot woot! GOOD DAY INDEED.

Call me crazy, but I think they’re gearing up to let me go home. I’m optimistic that will happen by Sunday. When my OB came by to see me this morning, she told me that she’s not on call this weekend, so she won’t be back until Monday morning. She said, “I hope I don’t see you.”

Me too. ME TOO.