the other side
Well, I made it. The surgery itself was a success, and I remember the day vividly -- the thin hospital gown, the cold floor through flimsy slippers, the narrow operating table, the oxygen mask placed moments before I was put under. I spent a couple days at the hospital, tentatively trying foods (and sometimes failing to keep them down) and calling for pain medication. A couple friends visiting, holding my spirits up.
I was, for the first few weeks, going to the bathroom around 15 times a day, including a few trips overnight, which thoroughly disrupted my sleep schedule. After a while I kind of got used to waking up in the dark of deep night, hardly a thought in my head. My father was able to jury rig my toilet seat bidet, a puzzle that neither my friends or I could solve, and it made an enormous difference in my bathroom comfort level. Indeed, I now find using non-bidet toilets a delicate operation at best, excruciating at worst.
I had a brief hiccup in my recovery in mid-December, when my nausea prevented me from being able to keep solids down for a couple days. I went back to emergency and, while waiting for various tests, had an extreme nausea reaction to the dye they had me ingest, and I sprawled on the hospital floor for a good hour or so until the doctor took some mercy on me and sought out some pain relief. Frustrating that I should still have these bouts, that after everything I've gone through they remain in my life.
I am doing much better, now. I got a prescription to Lomotil, which has reduced my number of trips to the bathroom to about 4-8 a day. I am getting good sleep, and my appetite is pretty healthy. I have changed my diet to the recommended low fibre one -- lots of carbohydrates and protein, no raw fruits or vegetables, no nuts, etc. No alcohol, though I haven't been much for drinking over the past couple years.
I returned to work this week, and it's going alright. Still trying to build a new routine around my medication and diet and bathroom breaks. I find I have bursts of energy and optimism, which is a start.
I was, for the first few weeks, going to the bathroom around 15 times a day, including a few trips overnight, which thoroughly disrupted my sleep schedule. After a while I kind of got used to waking up in the dark of deep night, hardly a thought in my head. My father was able to jury rig my toilet seat bidet, a puzzle that neither my friends or I could solve, and it made an enormous difference in my bathroom comfort level. Indeed, I now find using non-bidet toilets a delicate operation at best, excruciating at worst.
I had a brief hiccup in my recovery in mid-December, when my nausea prevented me from being able to keep solids down for a couple days. I went back to emergency and, while waiting for various tests, had an extreme nausea reaction to the dye they had me ingest, and I sprawled on the hospital floor for a good hour or so until the doctor took some mercy on me and sought out some pain relief. Frustrating that I should still have these bouts, that after everything I've gone through they remain in my life.
I am doing much better, now. I got a prescription to Lomotil, which has reduced my number of trips to the bathroom to about 4-8 a day. I am getting good sleep, and my appetite is pretty healthy. I have changed my diet to the recommended low fibre one -- lots of carbohydrates and protein, no raw fruits or vegetables, no nuts, etc. No alcohol, though I haven't been much for drinking over the past couple years.
I returned to work this week, and it's going alright. Still trying to build a new routine around my medication and diet and bathroom breaks. I find I have bursts of energy and optimism, which is a start.
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