A Year Ago Today.

A year ago today I was coming off of a three-day, bowel-cleansing bender. I was waking up early and making an exciting-slash-nervous drive into Santa Barbara. I was sitting in a waiting room with Eric, my mom, and sister. I was getting needles jabbed into my arms, pulling up dopey-looking grippy socks, and cracking jokes with people wearing scrubs. I was getting wheeled down long hallways and looking around at Dr. Frankenstein-looking medical equipment. I was trying to look alive as my mom and sister snapped drugged-out photos of me, laying on a stretcher, wearing a crown that read "Chili Peppers."

Today is ONE WHOLE YEAR since I had my big surgery.

You know, the one where I had my butt-guts pulled through my stomach and PART OF MY BOWEL WAS REMOVED.

It's hard for me to believe it's already been so long because I can still clearly remember my excitement at the thought of being "healthy." In fact, as crazy as it sounds, I STILL get excited when I think about my surgery! Not only was it the best decision I've ever made, it was such a positive experience for me. I loved- LOVED- my hospital stay. I still remember several of my nurses names and faces. Which makes me think, it's strange how brains holds tighter to some memories over others- for some reason, my brain tells me that I'm, like, best friends with these nurses. They were just so thoughtful and friendly, and I think because of the nature of the situation, their helpfulness was magnified that much more. (I guess getting catheterized multiple times or having post surgery tar-poops wiped from your butt by a team of complete strangers will do that to you.)

If you had asked me a year ago what my health would be like today, I think I would've probably had a different answer from how things actually turned out. I think both Eric and I were counting on my surgery to be the miracle drug for all of my ailments and that we would start churning out the kids in no time. Unfortunately, things don't always go according to plan. And while I could go on and on about how unfair life is, or how painful and torturous (and sometimes rude) people can be when endlessly bragging (or better yet, complaining) about their kids/ pregnancies, or what it's like to have to endure another Mother's Day as a non-mom, I'll save that rant for another day. I mean, everyone has something to complain about, right...?

I sent Thank You cards to all of my doctors, as well as the hospital staff yesterday. My doctors have selflessly gone beyond their obligatory scope of work and I'm SO grateful for all they've done for me. And while I'm sure they don't exactly sit around, feeling unappreciated, I sent the cards anyway because it's nice to be reminded.

Since my surgery- and recovery- I feel like I've gained my life back. I'll still never be 100% because an asshole named endometriosis ruined that forever, but I feel much healthier than I have in the past several years. Longer than I can remember.

Things are looking up, my friends.

Another perk, I never gained any of my pre-surgery weight back. Win-win. #HumbleBrag

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The One Where I Tell You All About My Surgery.

Guess who's back from the dead.

IT'S ME!

First of all, I'd like to say a huge "THANK YOU" to all of the well-wishes I received here on the blog, as well as on Facebook and Twitter. And an especially appreciative "I LOVE IT" to all of the people who sent flowers and gifts. Your thoughts are definitely appreciated and have motivated me to get back to oversharing as soon as possible.

And to those of you who didn't send me shit, I've taken note.

Secondly, I'm going to have no less than a ton to say about my surgery and recovery process. So this would be the perfect time to use the bathroom and grab five drinks. Because we're going to be here all day. And since I'm still cross-eyed from taking Norco every four hours, most of this post may turn out to be a bunch of jibber-jabber that makes no sense. And this post has also taken me a week to compose, which means I can guarantee it will be all over the place.




MONDAY

Got up and showered as usual. Made sure to do my hair since I wanted to look beautiful and fresh and glamorous and be mistaken for Audrina Patridge while in hospital. Did one last pre-op weigh in to see where all of this illness/ stress/ bowel cleanse had left me. Since I'm a lady, I won't tell you what I weighed. But I will tell you it was less than when I got married back in 2007.

Okay, twist my arm, it was 115.

Made it to the hospital right on time. I was lucky enough to have my surgery take place in this newly opened hospital in Santa Barbara. All of the rooms are private (no sharing the TV!) and patients can choose their own meals from the delicious looking menu via room service. Obviously, that was the part I was most looking forward to.

Hung out with Boyfriend, Mom, and sister Tanya in the pre-op waiting room. Started to get nervous, but luckily a nurse called me in after only about 10 minutes. I was escorted to my pre-op room. There, I changed into a hospital gown and some sickly and embarrassing looking grippy socks. The nurses drew blood, applied the EKG sticky pads to my chest, and inserted the I.V. Then Boyfriend, Mom, and Tanya were able to come visit me until surgery time. We hung out, cracked some jokes, and watched TV. Once I was taken into this pre-op area, I was no longer nervous. I was actually kind of excited. I was about to go in for surgery!

We all said our goodbyes and my surgical nurse wheeled me into the O.R. I wish I would have been able to take video rolling through the hallways and into the O.R. because it was a really strange perspective and it almost felt surreal. But I guess if you've ever seen E.R., or any medical show really, you probably already have a good idea of how that whole thing goes.

INTERESTING: The surgical table has about 2 inches of this weird, squishy mat on top (see photo below). This keeps the body from skidding all across the room while docs are tugging in different directions.

My particular table also had a hole cut out from the butt section of the mat. I'm assuming this was in case they had to perform a full Assectomy on me.

My surgical nurses were cool and we cracked some more jokes. They placed a breathing mask over my face and that's the last thing I remember.

Next thing I knew, I was waking up in a recovery room. I don't remember too much of that other than my family was there and I saw them for about a second before I fell back asleep. The rest of the day and night, I slept.

Total surgery time: 4 hours.

Apparently, someone in my family had me pose, as I was being rolled into my hospital room, wearing a tiara with chili peppers and "HOT STUFF" on it. I had no memory of this until Boyfriend reminded me. I don't know if this is my family's idea of "funny", but I'm pretty sure I like it.

My "Get Well" flowers. They were all SO beautiful and the nurses kept commenting on how good my room smelled. Thankfully, they were saying that instead of "What the fuck is that smell...?", which is actually what I kept asking myself by day three every time I caught a whiff of my armpit.

TUESDAY

Slept great until the doctors made their rounds in the middle of the night (see: 6:30am). Slept as much as I could in between the endless gang of hospital staff that weaved their way in and out of my room. This included my two surgeons and each of their teams of 3-4 other doctors, dietitians, newspaper delivery, room service, nurses to check vital signs every hour, house keeping, etc.

First day of eating. Clear liquids only.

Pain medication every four hours- shot of Morphine straight into the ol' IV.

That day, they removed my catheter. Surprisingly it wasn't as torturous as I imagined it was going to be. Instead, I just felt a slight tickle and it was done. Although, now that I think about it, maybe it really was as torturous as I was imagining, but since I was loaded on morphine, I didn't really notice. The nurses also had me get up and walk to the bathroom. That ended pretty well when I blacked the fuck out and the nurse had to save me from face-planting. I took it easy after that and slept the rest of the day. I also had some post-colonic diarrhea that looked like something from the La Brea Tar Pits. A nurse had to wipe me down with a wet wash cloth. By this point, my dignity had high-tailed it out of there and was trying to hitch a ride down the 101.

My view.

WEDNESDAY

Doctor rounds at 6:30am. They would look at my incisions, sometimes press around lightly, ask if I've been getting out of bed, take some notes and leave. They were always very nice, it was mostly just the waking up part that made me want to spit venom.

Lunch was promoted to soft foods!! I had about 5 plain penne pasta noodles, half of a white roll, and some apple juice. Since I'd been on clear liquids for the previous five days, I didn't have much of an appetite and it didn't take much to fill up.

As you can tell, the morphine was great.

In actuality, this is much closer to what I looked like. When I tried to look human, that is.

A bladder scan showed that I was "retaining", meaning I felt empty but was actually still full. Had to get catheter #2. Blood in urine. Doctors requested more blood work. Diet was demoted back to clear liquids.

Flipped the fuck out because people kept coming into my room and I was tired as shit due to waking up the previous night every hour, on the hour, to use the bathroom. The nurses put a Do Not Disturb sign on my door and finally I got some peace and quiet and naps.



THURSDAY

As my surgeons stopped by throughout the morning, they shared their surgical findings with me.

SO WHAT DID THEY FIND??!?

Well, they removed all of the endometriosis they were able to locate, along with a 5cm cyst (larger than the actual ovary itself) from my left ovary. They also removed a golf ball sized mass from my colon, as well as 6 inches of bowel. Something my doctor said was definitely causing pain.

. . . . .

Crazy, right?

Pathology report showed no cancerous cells on any of the biopsies.  THANK GOD.

Hearts and glory and angels singing!!!

Diet promoted to all liquids, not just clear. Dinner was some orange slop that was supposedly "blended chicken noodle soup". Surprisingly, it wasn't too bad. I guess that's what happens when you've been on clear liquids for the past six days. You're desperate enough to eat anything.

Medication was switched to Norco pills. Not as good as the morphine, but still pretty great at taking the edge off of the excruciating incisions and cystectomy. Surprisingly, there was almost no pain coming from the bowel resection. Everything was from the incision and cystectomy- burning, stabbing, tightness, and more burning. I also had the shoulder pain that many people experience after laparoscopic surgery. My sensations may have been dulled due to the heavy meds I was on, but it basically felt like gas pains stabbing in my chest when I took a deep breath. This pain was gone by day four.

Right arm. Blood work every day.

Left arm. (At the time, the needle didn't bother me. Looking at this picture, it's making me cringe.)

WORD OF ADVICE: If you're unfortunate like me and have hairy arms, I STRONGLY suggest you wax/ shave/ buff those things before you're admitted to any hospital. That medical tape is no joke.

Late Thursday night, they did a bladder scan. Same "retaining" problem. This time, they decided to try a "straight catheter", which is when they just put it in to drain and take it back out again a few minutes later. Catheter #3 administered. Bladder was full. Another small blood clot.


FRIDAY

Doctor rounds at 6:30am. Over the past week, this doc quickly became my good buddy. He was always in good spirits and joking around. More doctors should be like him.

Nurse checked bladder again hoping the straight cath did the trick. It didn't. Catheter #4 administered. Still no hospital discharge.

Finally took my first shower since being admitted. Aside from the awkwardness of having a catheter hanging out of my privée and my overall lifelessness, it was the best shower of my fucking life. I didn't know how badly I needed it until I was hunched over, sitting on a portable toilet seat, grinding Johnson & Johnson into my face. I attempted to shave my legs, but my sore and bulging stomach kept getting in the way and I'm pretty sure I walked out of that shower stall with two cacti shooting out of the bottom of my hospital gown. Regardless, showers are really a magical thing when it comes to being ill.

Unfortunately, I didn't pack my hair dryer because the pre-op paperwork clearly stated no plug-in devices. So instead of looking like Audrina sauntering up and down the hospital hallway, I looked like Hurley from LOST.

That night, Boyfriend stayed over and we had a slumber party. And by slumber party, I mean we watched the Olympic opening ceremony and then I passed the fuck out.


SATURDAY

This is my discharge day. Catheter #4 removed at 6:30am. I had until 2pm to show less then 100cc's in my bladder. If I was unable to get it below 100, I would be going home with a catheter.

Starting around 1pm, it was a race to the finish. Apparently, it's pretty common for patients with catheters to lose control of their bladder muscles/ feelings since they've been rendered useless for several days. It turns out there's a trick for getting these muscles back in working order (aside from Kegels). It's called "the double void" and it's when you use the bathroom, walk around, amd immediately use the bathroom again. So Boyfriend and I would do this. We would walk a lap on my hospital floor and I would use the bathroom. We kept doing this until 2pm. The nurse scanned me. Still 300cc's in me. We kept doing the walk/ bathroom combo. Little by little my bladder was going down. Thankfully, my doctor was cool and didn't rush me out the door. Because if he had, I would have been sent home with another catheter- my 5th one, to be exact.

One of my favorite nurses. Honestly, almost all of the hospital staff that I met were really great. They've set a high bar in case I'm ever admitted to another hospital. Most of the nurses were young and cool and sympathetic and fun and I felt like I had real friends taking care of me. I had this particular nurse twice during my stay and she was great both times. She didn't even rush me during my pee-a-thon.

I think it was finally around 3:30pm that my bladder registered under 100cc's. Boyfriend and I were ecstatic. No home cath for me. I felt like I'd just won my own gold medal in the Urination Olympics.

AND I WAS DISCHARGED!!

Doing my best impersonation of "acting normal". Also, Boyfriend snuck in my flat iron.

SINCE THEN...

-There's been some ups and downs. The pharmacy closed before we were able to pick up my meds on my first day home, which made me rage the fuck out. Thankfully, I still had some vicodin here and that held me over until the next morning.

-Pains have gotten more intense since coming home. I'm guessing that's because I'm doing more activities and not just sleeping 22 hours a day.

-It's hard to sleep comfortably. It turns out, those Craftmatic adjustable beds they have in the hospital come in pretty handy when you've had your guts all scrambled up.

-Had to take a shitload of Milk of Magnesia and Senekot-S to finally have a bowel movement (12 days after surgery!) without ripping my new butt open. Since I'm on a slightly modified diet (low fiber), my belly was FULL to the max. I couldn't even lean forward without it getting in the way. By the time I was finally able to go, it was like the gates to shit city opened. I'm not exaggerating when I say I was on the toilet for an hour straight this morning.

-Trying to spread out my Norco pills so I don't become a crackhead and end up on Intervention. Also trying to cut back because they cause constipation. Unfortunately, the pain in my incisions, abdomen, and back don't care that they make me constipated. Things hurt, man. So I'm still taking them semi-regularly.

-The Norco has also given me a crazy ITCCCCCHY rash up and down the right side of my torso. It's red and blotchy and puffy and I look like Eric Stoltz in Mask.

-I've been living in nightshirts like they're regular clothes. With these five incisions in my belly, even the slightest pressure feels like a burning hot sword through my skin. Clothing with a waistband is overrated.

-I'm so grateful for all of the doctors and nurses at Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital who took great care of me. Without the help and comfort these people provided, my surgery and recovery could have had a much different outcome. Dr. Bounoua, Dr. Hogan, Dr. Chang, Dr. Cahill, Dr. Diamond, Dr. Erin, and nurses Naomi, Angie, Terri, Lisa, May Ann, Christina, Jasmin, and Carissa- THANK YOU!!


So that's it for my hospital update! Thanks again to everyone who's followed along on this medical saga. Your support means more than you know.  :)

-TILTE

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Care Package.

Yes, I'm alive!

I'll be back soon with all of the gory surgical details, my friends. Until then, here's an entry I wrote a few weeks ago.

:::ZzzzZzzZzzzzzzz:::


___________________________________________



Today I went to visit my mom because she said she had a surprise for me and if there's one thing my mom knows about me, it's that I love surprises and anything that could be construed as "gift-related".

Like any great mom would do, she put together a care package for my upcoming surgery.

The gifts inside of this care package rivaled Christmas morning. IT WAS GREAT.

My favorite items were:

-A nightshirt that read "TXT ME". It's a funny pick for my mom since she usually goes with something much more homely and floral and flannel and Laura Ashley.

-Ramona the Brave. In case I feel like reading. (She knows me so well. My reading maturity level pretty much topped out in the 4th grade.)

-Cloth bandage in case I end up with a colostomy bag. :::this is only funny in an awful way:::

-Bright nail polish. Because that's what all the hip kids on her favorite Korean soap opera wear. She even gave me the tip about painting one nail on each hand in a different color. She's funny. And cool.

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So... I Have Some News to Share.

You know how I'm always complaining about how I feel shitty and my insides are all kinds of awful?

Well, there's something I haven't quite let you in on.

And no, it's not that I'm pregnant.

I'm actually FAR from pregnant.

Unless you count endometriosis as "pregnant".

In which case, I'm about 60 months pregnant with the endo-baby from hell.


So, what's been going on (kind of) behind the scenes is that I've been playing scavenger hunt with doctors, trying to get to the root of my health problem. In the hopes that we can kill that fucking root dead.

Long story short: I'm going in for surgery on Monday.

------------------------------------------

Long story long: It's not exactly a simple little "endo removal" process.

You see, typically an endo removal procedure is around an hour'ish long, it's done laparoscopically (3-5 tiny holes made through the stomach), it's outpatient, and you're approved to go back to work the next day. Shoulder pain can occur due to all the carbon dioxide they pump into you. Over-the-counter pills aren't great, but they get the job done.

In my particular situation, (and this is where all of the male readers get hysterical blindness and quickly vacate the premises) the endo has attacked my colon. At this point, we don't really know how extensive it is, but it's enough to hinder my everyday activity (read: eating and sleeping).

What does that mean?

It means I will be getting laparoscopy surgery for endo removal AND a bowel resection. This procedure will be 3-4 hours long and *may* end up turning into a laparotomy (lateral incision of the stomach).

WTF is a bowel resection?

It's exactly what it sounds like.

They're going to REMOVE a section of my colon and REATTACH the two sections together.

Gross, right?

I KNOW.


It's kind of like MAJOR surgery.

Surprisingly, I don't feel nervous about it. Or it could be that I'm just not mentally aware of my nervousness. But actually, if you ask my guts how they feel about things, they'll probably tell you a completely different story about how they shit their brains out 85 times today while I was at the hospital doing my pre-op tests. That was awkward.

So, if all goes well I will keep all of my baby-making organs (minus the crusty endo-bombs), the resection will heal perfectly, and I'll be watching tivo'd Judge Judy episodes from the comforts of my own home in no time.

If all goes horribly wrong, I could end up with a hysterectomy and a poop tube sticking out of my stomach.

Fingers crossed for the first option.

_____________________________


I'm really excited to see what's going to happen. I'm ready to wake up post-op and find out when I can apply for the show Monsters Inside Me.

Hopefully after the surgery, when people ask me how I'm doing, they won't receive answers like "Explosive diarrhea all weekend." or "Bowel cleanse. Couldn't sleep because I thought I might shart myself all night."


I've forgotten what it's like to feel normal and not have to worry about a flare up, or staying close to the bathroom, or being stuck in the bathroom for 30 minutes at a time. I can't wait to get healthy and be able to make plans AWAY from the house. It's going to be a newfound freedom, that's for sure.

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