Pain Cave

It’s been a few weeks since I’ve written anything. I’ve found it increasingly difficult to write about this journey the further down this path we go. The blog is still a year behind writing in the present. I’ll continue the story where I left off a few weeks ago, as I fell asleep for my surgery.

December 2015

Pain. Hot pain. My abdomen was turning itself inside out and on fire.

I opened an eye, and saw a nurse next to my bed. My eye shuttered again as I regained consciousness. She held my hand and asked me what my pain level was. I hesitantly mumbled, “Eight.”

Look, I’m no stranger to pain. With triathlon, I had to push my body physically and mentally, which could become highly unpleasant. Athletes often refer to this as their “pain cave”. Injuries from overuse, running falls, and a bike wreck would also pop up over the years. I would rarely report my pain higher than a 4 or 5, and never higher than 6. Pain is relative, and it can always be worse.

My mom and Chad were let back to my bed shortly after I woke up. My eyes fluttered open in greeting, and remained open long enough to get a kiss from Chad. They each held my hands. The nurse administered more IV pain medication, then left us alone. Chad and my mom commented on my air blanket and took pictures, commenting that it looked like R2D2! The cool O2 being pumped into my nose felt so soft. I wished it would somehow make its way to my belly and cool the pulsing fire. The nurse asked about my pain again, and again I responded, “eight!”

The "R2D2 blanket" pumped warm air into the blanket to keep me warm without putting pressure on my abdomen. 

Chad keeping me company in recovery. 

The doctor came back to the recovery room, and I opened my eyes again for a few moments. He asked how I was feeling. Still an 8, and could I get something for that. The nurse confirms that I was maxed out on pain meds. He quickly made the decision to admit me to the hospital overnight for pain management.

From here, my memories are few and cloudy for a little while. I remember being wheeled upstairs, and each bump of the bed’s wheels pouring gasoline on the fire in my belly and lady parts. I know they moved me from one bed to another, but how I got there is beyond me.

The next thing I remember is being made to sit up by a nurse and Chad. White hot pain. I opened my eyes, and this time they stayed open, although without contacts and glasses my world was watery. I was told that I needed to pee, to see if it would help with the pain. I was half carried half dragged to the bathroom and they gingerly placed me on the toilet. Giant disposable mesh panties appeared at my ankles. They asked me if I could pee. I laughed (I laugh when I’m in pain!) and hung my head.

Chad and the nurse moved me back to the bed. She said that since I couldn't pee, they were going to have to put in a catheter. This sounded like an okay idea to me. A quick little temporary cath and I’d pee and then be great. I wasn't aware of what exactly they had planned.  

The nurse came back with her nurse friend. Chad appeared very close to my face and I thought he was trying to hug me. The next thing I knew, it felt like they were trying to drive a nail into my lady bits. I screamed. And screamed. And screamed. White hot searing pain. My face was drenched with my tears and sweat. With Chad’s face so close to mine, I could see that he too was crying. He later told me that it took the nurses two attempts to place the Foley catheter.

Once they were done, I immediately felt relief. Within 5 minutes, the catheter collected nearly a liter of urine. My pain settled at a manageable and steady 5.

I did not sleep at all that night. My abdomen was still pretty painful. I didn’t want it to be touched by anything (even sheets), and yet I was so cold. Chad and my mom managed to arrange the blankets so that there was no pressure on my abdomen, but the rest of me was covered and warm.

No touchie the belly!

The following morning, the doctor and his fellow game by and did an ultrasound to make sure that there were no complications from the surgery that were attributing to my pain. The ultrasound showed that everything was good. Since my pain was finally being managed with medication, I was told that I could go home if I could get out of bed and to the chair under my own power. He said that he would be back in a few minutes to check on me.

As an athlete, I respond well to goals. I wanted to go home!! Gingerly, I made my way to the chair. When doctor’s fellow returned to check on me. I was ready to go home.

When we got home, my mom stayed with me for a few hours while Chad left and went to the HRTC’s (triathlon club) Christmas party.

The next few days were a blur.

After a day or so, I was tired of being home, so Chad took me to the movie theater to see the Star Wars: The Force Awakens. It did not awaken me much. I slept through much of the movie due to the pain meds, but I was still grateful to be out of the house.

The following morning, Chad packed a few bags for us and, along with our dog Duke, we drove down to my parent's house in Sugar Land for the Christmas holidays. I slept in a recliner in the kitchen for much of the holiday.

Duke kept a watchful eye over his mummy.