Last night about the time I was posting my view with the lights that stay on all night, Kimberly asked me if I'd like to try something to sleep, since Ambien had been ordered for me.
I assumed it was pretty normal to be up and down all night, but agreed to try it, provided I could wake up enough to take my meds on time. No one else is going to take charge of that and I wasn't willing to pass out just to end up in agony again. She said it was a low dose and that shouldn't be a problem.
From that point on I would wake myself up with a violent tremor, kind of like the ones where you dream you are falling and try to catch yourself. This does not work wonders for a healing abdomen. And in between those moments were deep sleep so that I wasn't rousing to drink water. They'd already taken off the IV, so the only way I was getting necessary liquids was to ask constantly for my water bottle to be filled up. Perhaps it is just the passings days, or more lucidity, but I hadn't really felt neglected until late in the day on Saturday -- nurses and techs not answering their phones, no one around to help, questions met with shrugs. I was very ready to get out of there. When I discovered Elizabeth was returning as my night nurse, I was relieved because I felt comfortable with her and knew she would listen to me.
But when you are sound asleep, even the greatest nurse won't know that you're not doing very well. By 6:00 a.m. I was in trouble. I couldn't swallow easily and was racked with nausea. Elizabeth gave me the pill form of phenergan which knocked me completely out, good on one hand, bad on the other because once I again, I wasn't able to keep up with requesting my meds. She brought me an ice pack for the back of my neck and had to get home.
When I woke again, I was really out of it, but no longer sick to my stomach. I ate some breakfast, then fell right back asleep, got up to order lunch, eat, and sleep again. This was a stark departure from yesterday when I was chattering away and visiting with everyone and laughing. I think I've got to really dial back any bits of energy I get and conserve them guardedly.
At lunch I had a fruit plate with cottage cheese and some fish and kept knocking back the cranberry juice. I met with another of the urologists who poo-pooed my concerns about getting a UTI from having a catheter in for 2 weeks. Basically, they're going to make me writhe in agony before writing an antibiotic prescription. Mama is NOT happy. I know how much those hurt and I know how much I'm already hurting. NOT HAPPY.
They even brought a Sunday paper with the meal, so I tried to read the funny papers. I couldn't really focus well though.
Finally we were getting paperwork in order and Kristin was taking my last round of vitals and Bob was getting his tutorial in catheter care. This would probably fall into the "for better or worse" clause and he's been wonderful.
Out of the hospital at last, for another white-knuckled experience getting home. Every bump, every pothole, every stop, every turn and my abdomen was sure telling me about it. Then came the three steps up and into the house and the flight of stairs up to my room. Thanks to the great hyster-sisters site, I knew to go up them backward and it worked like a champ. I was light headed and clinched up tight as a drum in fear of falling, but nothing felt like it was bursting or popping.
The great goal of the day: home in my own bed, with my pitiful puppy, so grateful for all the prep we'd done before. I'm exhausted, but my color is much better just in the couple of hours we've been home.
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