Everything neatly stitched up …
Okay, I’ve been back from hospital for almost a week now, i guess it’s time to drop a couple of lines.
Somehow the incredible happened, after I spent hours and hours in front of my Mac searching the internet for alternative methods of treatment for myoma, read a whole book about hysterectomy and all but became a medical expert on the subject I finally managed to convince my surgeon that I really, really like my uterus even if it gives me nothing but trouble and I want to KEEP it! He really promised me to do everything he could, yes, there was a chance that myoma was sitting deep in the wall of the uterus, yes, there was also a chance of uncontrollable bleeding in which cases they would have to perform a hysterectomy, but not if they didn’t have to.
Anesthesia was funny, I thought it would be like falling asleep, but it wasn’t, it felt more like you just pressed the Pause/Play button on the VCR, everything just stopped and then resumed three hours later when I was already in my hospital bed. I wasn’t sick at all from anesthesia, just dead tired, slept most of the rest of the day with a nice little painkiller every couple of hours. Grischa was there and got the surgeon to come in and tell us about the operation, well, I was all complete except for a myoma about the size of a hen’s egg.
Next day I thought I would never walk again, that cut across my abdomen looks like a Cesarean, in case you know anyone who has had one. Turning in bed and sitting up was painful, getting on my feet and walking almost impossible, but they only insist you walk for a couple of feet twice on the first day, I guess to prevent thrombosis and to check everything is working fine.
Second day was much better, I could get up and walk a little, just didn’t feel much like it because I had to carry all those little bottles around that were still attached to me and filling with interesting differently colored fluids.
On the third day I got rid of those, too, and started prowling around the hospital. Where’s the cafeteria? The library? The smoking area? I got along very good with my roommate Susanne, too, she was operated three days later than I, and later in the day than I, and her OP was much bigger and more complicated than mine. I was terribly sorry for her that her friend had to leave just when she came to, she had a lot of pain and asked could I hold her hand, so I sat with her most of the night. Well, I never slept much in that hospital anyway, nurses coming in at all times of the night to look after you, all those strange noises you hear, not the best place for a good night’s sleep. But I think I made a good friend there.
I was quite impatient to get out so they let me go one day earlier than recommended because I was healing very nicely and I guess they needed my bed. Lucky I got out of there, too, because after I left Susanne got a new roommate that turned out to have MRSA, which you can look up on the internet if you care, but anyway, she had to be rushed out again to the isolation ward.
So now I’m home again and very happy about it, still a little less fit than before but almost as good as new. Laughing and sneezing and coughing still hurts a little but not as much as right after the operation, that hurt like hell. I won’t be allowed to carry anything heavier than 10 pounds for about half a year, but I can live with that. And now you know everything about my big event en detail, wasn’t it almost as good as sitting by my side and holding my hand? And I had a lot of people there to see me, Grischa came twice a day most of the time, and most of the friends from Essen managed to see me at least twice that week, so I didn’t have time to feel lonely. I guess the worst thing about it was the worrying before.
Enough for now, I know, I didn’t write about London and the Notting Hill Carnival, but I guess you’ve had enough to read…
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