I am finally home. The first night was tough. After my husband set up the shower chair, my first priority was to bathe and wash my hair. Even though I took sponge baths in the hospital, I could barely stand my stink. It would be wonderful if hospital toilets had bidets, but they don’t, and so we must do the best we can.
It was then that I noticed blood coming from the incision. Was it supposed to do that? I didn’t know, and there was no help line to call on the discharge orders, nor were there any detailed incision care instructions. It was far too late to call the doctor’s office. My husband and I decided to take a “wait and see” approach. If the discharge worsened in the morning, we’d take action.
He helped me into our big bed, and for the first time in a week I was able to relax. I slept well, too, for a little while. Until I had to get back up again. Then it became quite clear that the inability to raise my back made it enormously difficult to get out of bed.
By morning, we devised a way to shove pillows behind my back to progressively raise it and allow me to swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand. But the action seemed to make the incision drain even more. The bed was no longer a good option.
Thankfully, we have a recliner in the bedroom that works far better. The seat is knee-height, which makes it easier to get out of. And my first night sleeping in it was quite comfortable, other than having my feet fall asleep from hanging off the recliner foot rest. And the constant feeling of having a “ghost” NG tube. When will that ever go away?
The only other complaint I have is the stabbing pains in the stomach that come from a healing abdominal surgery. Food and gas are processing through, I’m typing and moving more, it’s no wonder that there’s some pain. It’s not bad enough to need Tylenol or any pain medication. So I figure it will lessen over time.
I will add here that the most wonderful part of being home is being surrounded by my family. I’m enjoying conversations with my sons while they are “Mom-sitting”, and I’m proud of my husband. He’s appeared to be conquering a lifelong (over 60 years now) aversion to blood with his excellent attention to my wound. I feel loved, and it only makes me more determined to beat this thing called cancer.
So what’s next? I think I’ll continue blogging my story as events take place. This is the reason why: a few months ago I learned that Lindsay Jean Thomson, the woman who runs the #The100DayProject (a campaign I have been attempting for the last few years) survived breast cancer. She has an extensive writeup of her experience in Vice.
It’s quite inspiring. I have never been around anyone who has survived cancer and have no idea what to expect. When I was growing up, cancer was a death sentence. Knowing that someone as young and vibrant as Lindsay survived is truly motivational. Reading about her pain and perseverance helps me feel like I’m not the only one who has ever had to deal with this.
So I will blog my journey, too, in the hopes that it may inspire another woman out there who is about to get some very bad news.
originally posted at annettezimmerman.com
