Paralyzed Pecker
Is it just me or does anyone else experience a little erectile dysfunction after minor surgery?
I wasn’t allowed to leave the hospital until I ate, drank and peed. When I first woke up from the surgery, my mouth was a desert. I was eager to get something wet down my throat. Sips of water and Sprite did little to quench my thirst but I was too sleepy to drink as much as I wanted. I managed to down some mashed potatoes that were so dry I almost choked. And then my bladder woke up. Or, at least, I thought it did. I told the nurse I needed to go to the bathroom so she came over and helped me out of the bed. As soon as I sat up, a rush of nausea swept my skull and I could have projectile vomited those potatoes right back at her but after a few seconds, the dizziness passed and I was able to stand up on my feet. The nurse took me by my arm and we slowly shuffled to the bathroom.
So I’m standing there going and not much is happening. Instead of my usual fire hose stream, I’m barely dribbling. I found this frustrating because my bladder felt so full it was pressing against my tummy fat but nothing much was happening down there. And then it began to flow a little more freely. Before dribbling again. This ebb and flow of urine went on for a good minute. Every time I thought I was finished, shaking off those last golden drops, the pee came back full force. I found it odd but I was so anestoned that I didn’t think much of it. I had to go one last time before I left the hospital but I was so dizzy from standing up the last time that I had to sit like a proper lady to pee. Once again, it switched from a weak to strong stream. This cycle of sprinkling went on even after I came home.
I mentioned it to my mom and she suggested that maybe it was a side effect from the anesthesia. Like, maybe my body hadn’t all fully woken up yet? It’s not like I couldn’t pee, I just couldn’t get it to all come out all at once like usual. There’s been some other stuff as well.
I’ve noticed Uncle Woody hasn’t even come to say hello. It’s strange, especially in the mornings, which is when he usually makes his rounds. I guess that’s a good thing since my mom’s been popping in every morning to pop more pills into my mouth. Antibiotics. Steroids. Anxiety. Nausea. Pain. A pill for this and that but inconveniently, no Viagra. I kid. It’s not like I’m using it for anything. It’s just a weird little something I’ve noticed while in recovery.
Oh, and I didn’t poop for the first four days I was back home, either. Yet another bodily function (and my favorite) interrupted.
In other news, I’ve been absolutely miserable these past several days since the surgery. The first two days were spent in a haze of sleep and nausea. The next days were all about pressure, pressure, pressure. I felt so much pressure that it seemed like my eyeballs were going to pop from my skull. The intense pressure spread from under my eyes to my temples and wrapped around to my neck. But that’s not all, folks!
As I mentioned, I can’t breathe out of my nose. I was also instructed not to blow my nose. Now, for me, being someone who blows their nose multiple times a day, this was an exercise in frustration. My nose hasn’t necessarily been dripping but I have the instinctual urge to sniff and blow and I can sniff but it only exacerbates the pressure and I can’t blow to relieve the pressure. So, it’s all balled up in my head and I hate it. I was told to prop myself up while sleeping so I’ve been trying to do that. I wasn’t told how long I should continue doing this, if only for the first day or so or for several weeks, so I’ve been trying to keep propping myself upright or at least staying somewhat elevated at all times but it’s so uncomfortable. I usually sleep on my stomach with my face pressed against the pillow but since my entire face hurts and I since I have an irrational fear of anything grazing my nose, causing the septum to shift or crack again, I’ve been sleeping on my back to try to be as protective as possible over my sore schnaz.
Additionally, all of this mouth breathing has destroyed my lips. And no balm, salve or ointment has helped.
If I could, I’d simply sleep away the day and spare myself all of this discomfort but I just can’t. Despite feeling so unwell, I haven’t managed to fall asleep as easily as you’d think being a sick person. I’m always overly warm because I was told I can’t sleep under a ceiling fan, which I would usually always have on. I’m still dizzy but I force myself to shower to feel at least a little better. And I do for a few minutes until standing upright brings that familiar nausea again. Then, I have to lay myself down again.
And when I’m lying down, I feel like there’s a gigantic bowling ball in the center of my nose and if I’m not lying perfectly centered, I feel like the ball has shifted itself in whatever direction I move. I can actually feel the pressure rolling through my nose like a ball being rolled across a smooth linoleum floor. It sucks.
I’ve said many times that I am worried this wasn’t worth it. I mean, seriously, as far back as my feeble mind can reach, this is the worst I have ever felt in my entire life and the frustrating part is the discomfort is unrelenting. It’s not like having a head cold or head congestion from allergies where you can pop an over-the-counter medicine, take a nap and feel better. I hate to put that kind of energy out there because I definitely pray that this whole procedure was worth it. I’d hate to go through all of this and not come out of it being able to breathe better than I can remember, plus to have that lump disappear, which is why I got the surgery in the first place. Speaking of, the lump has popped back up and it is sore. I’m hoping this is the last time it pops up to say hello because I can’t see myself going through another surgery to remove it. No thank you. One sucky surgery was quite enough.
It’s been about seven days now. Only seven long, excruciating more days until I can blow my nose. Heck, even then I’ll be scared to blow because I don’t want to damage my nose or anything. I’ll probably try to wait a few more days just to be on the safe side. I don’t want to have endured all this discomfort just to undo the healing process by damaging something. I’ll be very gentle.
Ah, the Kleenex is calling.