Tuesday - 24 Hours After the Surgery

Last Edit December 21, 1998

My doctor is proud of himself. Actually, proud of his handiwork.
Turns out, I have three open hernias and stuff hanging through. He never saw the muscles. (The plastic surgeon found them hiding on the sides. Reintroduced them to each other - almost. Hence, the webbing.)
The incarcerated acute hernia is the one that caught the intestine. The one recently torn open enough to do so.
The others he said should have made me uncomfortable - something was - but they were not as serious.
I believe the weight loss also helped make this a problem. The sides of the tears were closer together. There was less fat to buffer stuff. My belief anyway.
It was torque caused by the near backward fall when I was startled by the overly aggressive bellhop at the sales conference that opened things up and created the emergency nature of the repair. I had lived with the others for a long time. And was planning to have them repaired. On my time schedule. When I had time off to use and money to spend.
I have pain when I breath or move or try to. I am to try to get up and move at least once up and down the hall 3 times a day.
I have Johnny stockings (white leggings that come up the thigh) and space boots - and a control box that inflates and deflates the boots at regular intervals.
This is to keep the muscles in shape and the circulation moving when I am not walking much.
This is something new.
I have oxygen tubes in my nose - and my nose is stuffy.
Fix me. Fix me.
My arms are allergic to the ID bands - they itch. One says who I am and one says use no Vaseline (we know I get hives having done this recently) and watch the tape (I swell up and turn red).
My left hand is strapped into the IV. It is not very happy about it.
What do you do when you have to be hospitalized?
Take Fabio photos along of course!
If I could have fit it in my suitcase, I would have put the Fabio pillow in there.
I could have used it to hold my sides together while I walked.
I may make a new one - a custom montage or one of my own photos. Maybe the one he signed.
Maybe a pillow and a tee shirt. Little Rock and the Date.
Oh! Why not!
My gut hurts.
I walked today up and down as ordered, leaning on the morphine unit. Its one where I can zap myself (it zones out for 20 minutes afterward so you can't overdose). Just me and my drugs roaming the hall. Actually, I am leaning on it.
I have been told by my brother, the surgeon, and my own doctor that I need to pass gas (fart was their expression. Love those high level medical terms!) and then I will be on the road to recovery.
I manage this.
I manage this so well I am OK'ed to take GasX.
Too much of a good thing.