It's been a week since surgery and I finally am starting to feel more like myself. On Saturday we took a walk that would normally takes me about 9 minutes; I had to stop and sit on benches twice on the way. And then slept for 13 hours.
But today, I put my underoos on all by myself - do you know how much stomach muscles are used in putting on undies? Heaps.
There are moments from the past week that I would not like to forget - no matter how unpleasant or scary. Moments of undeniably kindness and moments of ridiculousness (this goes without saying).
Monday night as I prepared for surgery, I had to take bowel prep. Have you ever prepared your bowel? I'd only heard horror stories of how uncomfortable it is, how bad the stuff tastes, etc etc. And I won't tell you it was akin to a sunset walk in Vanuatu - I'm not a liar. But it was not nearly as horrible as it could of been, I mean you're drinking something that is supposed to give you the shits, it's not going to taste like a soy chai latte. But the hardest part of bowel prep is the waiting....the waiting for it to start. I finished drinking the stuff at 7:20 (lemon and ginger flavoured my ass), and didn't start with the um...bowel cleansing...until 11 - which if you know anything about me is several hours past my bed time.
And I'm sorry for the two males who read my blog...but this must be said. I started my..um...ladies holiday on Tuesday morning. Jorge couldn't just let me win the war without a few more battles. And so, as I put on the backless gown - they gave me throw away hospital granny panties. The sex appeal was undeniable and Inspector Climate and I had a good laugh as I pranced around our curtained off hospital room in a backless gown and jumbo sized undies.
I don't really want to remember the look of fear and sorrow and pain on Inspector Climate's face as he spread the sheet over me in the hospital bed. Shit got real, yo. I cried. We held hands as they put this giant heater on me (called the Bare Hugger). And I waited.
Until I didn't. Those doctors wait for no one. When they're ready. They're ready. With a quick kiss from Inspector Climate I was wheeled off through doors and hallways (to be honest, they could have brought me anywhere as they took away my glasses and I could see...nothing).
I asked the Anesthesiologist if a lot of people say funny things when they're coming out of anesthesia - but apparently they say the funniest stuff when they're going under. Like the one guy who said "I have sex with men in public in St Kilda" as he drifted to unconsciousness. As he finished the punchline of his story, the nurse told me to take a few deep breaths and then I was gone.
I woke up in pain. The nurse gave me more pain killers and then I slept. I couldn't keep my eyes open. Inspector Climate appeared beside me and stayed there. The doctor stopped by twice. I asked to sit up hoping I'd be able to stay awake long enough to tell Inspector Climate that I loved him, but I'm not sure I ever said the words as I'd drifted off to sleep again (and again and again). I asked for my glasses hoping that if I could see, I'd stay awake. I slept.
Once we got home I slept more - I slept the day away. I heard Inspector Climate on the phone saying "I thought it would be much harder taking care of her, but all she does is sleep."
Today is Valentine's Day - a day in which is like any other in Inspector Climate's and my relationship except on Valentine's day we celebrate by buying a gift that we need. This year's is a slotted spatula (which probably is the traditional Valentine's gift for your first Valentine's as a married couple...I'm not 100% on that though).
I really got the best gift of all though - I caught me a man who takes care of me when I'm at my worst, makes me laugh 'til it hurts (which to be fair is easy when you have stomach surgery), and slept on the floor because I was worried that in his sleeping shenanigans he'd hit me in the stomach in my sleep (this is sadly not an irrational fear as a few nights before he slapped me in the face because he thought I had bugs on my head). A guy who still loved me even when I wore gauze-like jumbo sized granny panties. If that ain't the real thing, I don't know what is.