He asked me a couple of questions about how I was doing and asked
to see my stomach. So I lifted up my
gown and everyone stared at my scars.
They were all covered in bandages, with blood covering the scars, but he
pointed out some things about the scars to the people gathered round, and said
that everything was looking great. Then
the parade moved on to the next group of people. That was a bit strange, I
thought to myself.
I was feeling very uncomfortable, my stomach was very sore, and
my back was sore. The nurse told me I
didn’t need the pain pump anymore, and that I was being started on oral Tylenol
and some type of morphine pill for pain. They had inserted a catheter while I was
anaesthetized, and since they had observed for around a day that my urine
output was good, they took the catheter out (although they still measured my
urine in the bathroom). Having the
catheter taken out did not hurt at all.
Periodically through the day I was feeling nauseous, but they kept
giving me gravol in my IV.
Through the course of the day, I got up to go to the
bathroom. It was quite a rigamarole with
an IV pole, and finding my slippers while trying not to bend over and use my
abdominal muscles. I walked a bit down
the hallway. I felt steady enough on my
feet.
I had quite a few
visitors, which were a great distraction.
I seemed to surprise everyone.
They would walk in the room looking worried and anxious, like they
expected to see me looking horrible and sick, and I was looking pretty normal either
dozing or reading a book. At least they were polite enough to say they were
surprised at how normal I looked…maybe I really did look frightful. That’s how nice my friends are! I got
some lovely flowers and some more reading material.
The time came though when all the visitors had left, and my
husband went home, and I was in the hospital alone feeling very lousy
indeed. It was not a good night, I had a
hard time sleeping, a hard time finding a comfortable position. My abdomen was always feeling sore, with very
sharp pains when I tried to turn in bed,
or sit up, or reach for anything. I
thought it was almost morning, and I asked the nurse what time it was when she
came in to take my blood pressure. And
when I found out it was only 3 a.m., I
felt pretty weepy. So that was a low point.