Okay, so I believe I already admitted in another blog post that the little bump that suddenly appeared in my belly WASN'T an alien baby, but I'm wondering at this point if it might have been better to have HAD the alien baby....
Instead, I had a run-of-the-mill hernia. I believe it's considered an umbilical one because it made its appearance right above my naval...where my umbilical cord was attached when I made my entrance into the world. This kind of hernia usually is considered genetic, and my mom had one just like it.
The repair sounded simple enough. A little snip-snip here. A little stitch-stitch there. A couple of days rest, and I would be ready to take on the world again. At least, that's how the doctors office made it sound. "Back on your feet in no time."
I probably should have asked that age old question: "Will I ever play the piano again?"
(Now, THAT would have been a GREAT trick, as I took piano lessons way back in junior high, but I was never any good. If I came out of a hernia surgery able to play like Beethoven.......)
So, early in the morning on April 13th, the doctor cut 8 holes into my abdomen and repaired the hernia. When I opened my eyes after surgery, there was an expected amount of pain, but after being given several doses of pain medication well before being closed behind a curtain with my husband to get dressed for the return home, I wasn't expecting the severe muscle spasms that occurred...
I was quite proud of myself going in for this procedure. I've been battling a bad back for several years now and thought I had a very high pain threshold. Although my medical records show that it has been recommended that I be on daily pain medications, I was quite proud of the fact that I have only been taking my multi-vitamin for a couple of years now, only taking the occasional pain killer when I really was in pain.
As the old couple in a recent Swiffer commercial says, "I've been living in a fools paradise."
I wasn't warned that the muscles that have been disturbed by the procedure used to repair a hernia like to randomly seize up for no reason for quite some time after the surgery. I guess I probably should have considered myself warned when, on being told that I get ill if given morphine, the doctor saw to it that I was given a heavy duty pain killer and a muscle relaxer. The fact that the spasms are still extremely aggressive and unpredictable (but getting less so over time) is what keeps me close to home for a little bit longer, as the idea of muttering a curse at my muscles at the wrong moment in public doesn't appeal to me.
So, while I gain control of my stomach muscles, I've been stepping out only as far as my porch, watching as some warmer weather finally is melting the snow off my flower garden. The crocus patches are blooming in white and purple again. The daffodils and tiger lilies are starting to pop out of the ground.
And around the spot where I've been trying to grow some kind of perennial for several years, a spot where I put in 87 tulips last fall just before the ground froze, I have oodles of little tulips growing to beat the band. Hopefully, in the next couple of days, I'll be able to gain control of the muscles spasms in my stomach and will be able to get outside to take a count of how many bulbs have sent up sprouts, but for now, it's certainly nice to see them all growing!
Goodbye, alien baby! Hello spring flowers!
Instead, I had a run-of-the-mill hernia. I believe it's considered an umbilical one because it made its appearance right above my naval...where my umbilical cord was attached when I made my entrance into the world. This kind of hernia usually is considered genetic, and my mom had one just like it.
The repair sounded simple enough. A little snip-snip here. A little stitch-stitch there. A couple of days rest, and I would be ready to take on the world again. At least, that's how the doctors office made it sound. "Back on your feet in no time."
I probably should have asked that age old question: "Will I ever play the piano again?"
(Now, THAT would have been a GREAT trick, as I took piano lessons way back in junior high, but I was never any good. If I came out of a hernia surgery able to play like Beethoven.......)
So, early in the morning on April 13th, the doctor cut 8 holes into my abdomen and repaired the hernia. When I opened my eyes after surgery, there was an expected amount of pain, but after being given several doses of pain medication well before being closed behind a curtain with my husband to get dressed for the return home, I wasn't expecting the severe muscle spasms that occurred...
I was quite proud of myself going in for this procedure. I've been battling a bad back for several years now and thought I had a very high pain threshold. Although my medical records show that it has been recommended that I be on daily pain medications, I was quite proud of the fact that I have only been taking my multi-vitamin for a couple of years now, only taking the occasional pain killer when I really was in pain.
As the old couple in a recent Swiffer commercial says, "I've been living in a fools paradise."
I wasn't warned that the muscles that have been disturbed by the procedure used to repair a hernia like to randomly seize up for no reason for quite some time after the surgery. I guess I probably should have considered myself warned when, on being told that I get ill if given morphine, the doctor saw to it that I was given a heavy duty pain killer and a muscle relaxer. The fact that the spasms are still extremely aggressive and unpredictable (but getting less so over time) is what keeps me close to home for a little bit longer, as the idea of muttering a curse at my muscles at the wrong moment in public doesn't appeal to me.
So, while I gain control of my stomach muscles, I've been stepping out only as far as my porch, watching as some warmer weather finally is melting the snow off my flower garden. The crocus patches are blooming in white and purple again. The daffodils and tiger lilies are starting to pop out of the ground.
And around the spot where I've been trying to grow some kind of perennial for several years, a spot where I put in 87 tulips last fall just before the ground froze, I have oodles of little tulips growing to beat the band. Hopefully, in the next couple of days, I'll be able to gain control of the muscles spasms in my stomach and will be able to get outside to take a count of how many bulbs have sent up sprouts, but for now, it's certainly nice to see them all growing!
Goodbye, alien baby! Hello spring flowers!
UPDATE: 4/22 (Earth Day)
ReplyDeleteI managed to make it outside for the first time in a week, and so far, I have 75 sprouts from 87 bulbs. I think I may have some excellent tulip pictures to share soon, even if my Facebook pals freaked out about my last shared photo... (Who knew that so many people are upset by photos of bruises and surgically superglued sutures? *evil grin*)