Music Through the Pain Part 4

I felt something cold and unfamiliar being placed into my hand. "It’s your pain button, Gina," I heard the nurse say. "You can push it whenever you’re hurting." My pain was off the scale, so I pushed with all my might, and within less than a minute I was in dreamland again.

I don’t know how long I was in post-op; every few minutes I was being awakened and asked to deep breathe. Warm blankets kept being placed on top of me, and I was reminded to push my pain button.

Then suddenly I awoke and I was miraculously back in my room;  Summer was asking me how I felt. "Hot!" I told her. There must have been 4 or more warm blankets still covering me, and my hair felt damp from perspiration.  She patiently removed all the blankets, and Sissy got me a cool washcloth for my forehead. I dozed and woke and dozed and woke; each time, the sun was lower in the sky. The last time I woke, Summer asked me if I would like to get out of bed.

(Summer loves this picture. They operated on my belly, yet they managed to get the prep agent on my foot! The white edge you see on my ankle is my prayer cloth.)

My first thought was "What do you think, Nurse Ratched? Of course not."  But I knew she was exactly right, and she was only doing for me what she does every day, and that is encouraging her patient to do what they think they can’t do; she was advocating for me and making decisions I was in no position to make.  The sooner I got up, the sooner I would recover and the sooner I could go home. So with one last push on my pain button for good measure, I sat up in bed.

Summer combed the tangles out of my hair, and we admired the big bulky bandage on my tummy. She helped me brush my teeth, then managed all my assorted tubes and wires until I was settled comfortably (as possible) into the chair.  Meanwhile I felt as if I had just climbed Mount Everest.

After a few minutes Summer asked me if I wanted to walk in the hallway. She is my hero and I couldn’t tell her no, so I said "Sure I do." That is how I happened to be more or less vertical and walking in the hallway just a few hours after major abdominal surgery.

She walked on one side of me steering my IV pole, and Sissy walked on the other side; the two women I love most in this world. Every step was an effort, but I was determined to get well and come home.  We made one big lap around the entire floor, then I told them I thought I could walk another lap. And so we did.

They helped me back into bed just before my doctor arrived. He told me that when he saw the CT results, he knew it was an urgent situation. A band of scar tissue on the outside of my intestine was constricting it like a rubber band. He said once he saw the issue, it was a simple thing to fix, but not fixing it could have caused major problems.

Just before he left, he said, "I want you to get out of bed tomorrow." We burst into laughter, then Summer told him I had already been up in the chair AND walked in the hallway.  "I’m a tough old lady," I told him.  He just shook his head; "I never doubted that," he said.

(Post op day #1: already up and bathed, walked in the hallway and sitting in a chair by 10am. Summer said I was the perfect post op patient.  )

I wish I could say that every day was better, but that would not be true; some days were better and some were really hard. Chuck or Summer stayed with me every night, sleeping on the fold-out chair in the room, and my precious Sissy came every day. They encouraged me, they read to me, they prayed for me, and they just loved me back to being better.

Summer took a leave of absence from work so she could be with me. Every day she patiently helped me with my bath, and kept bringing new jammies for me to wear. She tirelessly helped me out of bed and walked me for miles in the hallways. When I couldn’t stand another ice chip, she made tiny strawberry-kiwi ice cubes from clear soda and brought them to me. And always, always she was my advocate, my voice when I couldn’t speak and my strength when I was too tired to move. I didn’t know at the time that she would have to leave the room sometimes in order not to cry in front of me; I only know that she was my rock and I was blessed to receive the care that she gives to her patients.

(I’m quite sure that not all her patients get the special "climb in bed and cuddle" treatment, but I certainly enjoyed it!)

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ly: Comic Sans MS”>Five days after surgery, I was well enough to come home. I had been gone for 12 days and I could hardly wait to get back to my own house, my own chair, my own life. Chuck and Summer and Sissy worked in tandem to make it happen; Chuck took my prescriptions to have them filled, Sissy transported my flowers and my belongings, and Summer gently helped me into the car and drove me home. I was far from being well, and was not yet aware of what new obstacles lay ahead of me on the horizon. I only knew that I was alive and thankful, and at home.

(This is the most real smile of all. Finally at home; Maggie would not leave my side. Prayer cloth tied to my ankle, and sitting in my own comfy chair.)

To be continued……….