Part 3
I just love the British hospital instead of ‘the’ hospital.
I was in my room. I’d had two attempted wees. Husband was present. Eventually on the third wee attempt, the flood gates broke loose. My captioner bladder - an uncanny ability to hold excessive amounts of wee for extended periods because ohmigosh your hour-long meeting was now at two hours without a sign of stopping - had reconstituted and I had waited probably too long.
I lost at least 2 lbs in that ‘go’. I promise, all this wee talk is important for my escape plans. Bear with me.
He ordered dinner for me. I was not excited about much, but his suggestion of turkey with gravy and green beans sounded good. I added a brownie and tea. When it arrived, he cut up the turkey for me and you know what? It was pretty good. And the best part? I did not feel sick. At all. I had zero nausea. Nausea is common after general anesthesia. I’m glad I don’t seem to fall into that category.
A fun sidenote on the eating/drinking water and things - I kept trying to go over my tatas. I was so used to them being there, that I was picking things up and going up and over, then looking down and remembering that I didn’t have to anymore.
I think I’m used to that already. Probably because I’m kinda lazy, to be honest.
I was looking up into the vent in my room and I swear there was a face. A bearded dude looking up. Not scary. Just interesting. I think the drugs helped - it was much less vivid the next morning. My husband tried to look for it with me - not sure if we saw the same faces or not. Some narcotics would have helped him see it better I’m sure.
My blood pressure was high at first. Like 166 over something. It went down overnight and changed depending on who was taking it. I don’t think I’m ever allowed to have my blood pressure taken ‘normally’ ever again because of the lymph nodes they removed - two on each side. For now, it’s my lower left arm.
As I was having dinner and drinking water, I kept raising the cup/fork up to go over my chest as I would have had to in the past. At some point, I realized this, looked down, and thought, I can just go straight up from here! Score. Much easier. I’m pretty good at finding silver linings in any situation.
Eventually, I sent the husband home to be with the doggos and sleep. I had hope for sleep, but no true expectation of sleeping. My expectations were met as I think the longest I ever ‘slept’ in a stretch was 20 minutes. And even then, it might have just been a meditative state. I’d wake up any time anyone came near my room so I was wide awake any time they came in.
They hooked me up to leg squisher things as soon as I got into my room. I’m sure that’s the technical term. It was to keep clots from forming in my legs overnight. Apparently they are disposable. I should have asked if I could keep the second pair I had on. See, I kept getting up to wee. And not like a small tinkle. No. Pounds at a time. I was traumatized by how much wee I was producing. I am estimating I lost 10-16 lbs in water weight that night. My belly was still enormous from the gas, but the kidneys are FINE.
Anyway, with all the unplugging/replugging, someone trying to get my blood pressure on my leg - that didn’t go well - the leg squishers started to malfunction and beep as I was drifting off. This happened a few times before my tech decided to just replace them. The ones I had on went in the garbage, new ones behaved much better.
I was given a sweet something to drink and then a cup ‘o drugs. Following that, a syringe of some nasty-tasting stuff that I chased with water. Another 15-minute Tylenol drip - the bottles are pretty cool-looking. I think. That’s what I wrote down.
But I also wrote down: “goal: make staff smile → accomplished → hand job. Love them.”
Translation: “Goal: make staff smile → accomplished → *hard job*. Love them.”
I was kinda high and tired when I made my notes, but maybe I’ve forgotten why all the staff were so nice to me…
Anyway, at 4am I was wide-wide awake. Making notes. Reading the breakfast menu. I was starving. I’d gotten off the hook for the 3:30am blood draw, probably by my extensive wee production, so there’s that. But hunger… that was top of mind. I wasn’t going to make it.
I did make it. I called at 6:30am exactly. I was told a 3 minute wait to talk to anyone, but it didn’t take that long. I ordered eggs, bacon, breakfast potatoes, strawberry Greek yogurt, a fruit cup and a banana nut muffin. Coffee and chocolate milk.
I ate most of it when it showed up an hour later. Saved the fruit and muffin for a bit later, but they didn’t last long. Eating without nausea, good appetite: check.
The gyn surgeon people came by at maybe 6am? They used little flashlights to check my scars - all good! They asked me how I was, and also somehow pets were mentioned. Apparently, as they were waiting to go in after the breast surgical team was finished, they were talking about their pets. Cats and dogs were being discussed as they waited. This is a comforting thing for me. All these people poking and prodding and cutting stuff off and out of me? They’re people. Some with pets at home. All with families, people who love the people.
Just a very zen moment for me learning about the pet discussion. No wonder everything went so well!
The other way beyond wee to escape from hospital was flatulence. I needed to fart. I was pumped full of gas, but none was heading toward the exit. I made a note of a possible escape at 6:58am. Because when you’re in hospital, be precise, amiright? The last note I wrote that morning was at 8:05am. DEFINITE FART. Check.
Wee, eating, foofs: Check. I would be allowed to be sent home with a 3-5 day window for number two production. I’ve nailed that one too. Thank goodness. I didn’t want to go back to the hospital because I couldn’t poo.
The last thing before I left was for everyone to parade through my room, make sure I looked okay and was happy with their performances. Was I a little high and thought one of the nerve block people had crazy-colored hair? Absolutely. It was a buff covering the hair. But I seemed happy, so everyone was content.
I was kicked out of the hospital around 11am the day after my surgery. Discharged in record time orsomething. The ride home was not fun, but that’s because every movement of the car I think sent some internal organ to the wrong place for a bit. But we made it! I have a special pillow designed for mastectomy patients. I'll show you a full photo of the pillow in the next few days.
I’m recovering well, and I’ll write more about that soon. 
We are providing a link to click through if you’d like to see my chest scars as I wanted everyone to be able to read all the way to the end without getting queasy or anything. I think they’re beautiful, but I understand if you don’t want to see. If you are interested in possible results of a flat closure but don’t want to see *my* flat closure, I would recommend going to https://notputtingonashirt.org - there you will find many pictures of flat closures that are strangers and not someone you know.
Click here for photo of my mastectomy closures.
