Six days at the hospital
I really wanted to write a blog post while I was in the hospital, but I didn’t have the energy to do so. After six days I finally came home yesterday and I am still super tired. I will try to write a short update, but I think that even then it’s going to be a long story.
On Thursday the 24th my parents drove me to the hospital in Beverwijk. I hopped into my hospital bed and all I could do was wait until the surgery was over. It didn’t really go as planned. The actual surgery went fine. I’ve got my gastric bypass and that is that. Otherwise it got a little messy. First of all my body didn’t handle the anesthesia very well. I didn’t really want to wake up while I was in the recovery room, but I seemed to be stable so they did bring me back to the ward. I don’t remember much of that. Every now and then someone would show up next to my bed. I also remember that my family and Huib were there to visit me, but I only remember their voices talking to each other in the distance. I wasn’t really there that first night. I think it was about eleven pm when I did open my eyes. Then of course I couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night.
I thought it could only get better from there, but that wasn’t true. The next day I felt nauseous and dizzy whenever I tried to get up. The nurses made me do it anyway, because the sooner you get up, the sooner you can go home. At that point I nearly fainted. A blood test showed that the hemoglobin in my blood was way too low and it was better for me to just lay down and rest. I tried to drink some water, but they ended up increasing the amount of fluids that I was receiving through the drip. That way I didn’t have to drink if I couldn’t. I did find out that I had two lovely roommates there. They were already walking around the ward and the hall way so they were doing much better. I was nice to have them around, as I had someone to chat with.
Unfortunately for me my roomies went home the next day, as they were doing great. I really hoped that I only had to stay in the hospital for two nights, but I was in no state to go anywhere. More than that, I actually felt worse than Friday. In the morning I felt nauseous again and it was the beginning of 24 hours of vomiting blood. Yup, that was about as gross and scary as it sounds. A small vein inside my stomach or bowel was leaking blood and there was no way the surgeon could find where it was. The only thing I could do was sit around and wait for it to stop. Of course I did get some medication for it through the drip (Nexium and something to thicken my blood to make it stop bleading), but those medications gave me a bigger risk for thrombosis. Life is good, isn’t it? To prevent that from happening I got a pair of inflatable socks around my calves. The massage wasn’t that bad, but I could not get out of my hospital bed by myself and so I was in for another boring and sleepless night.
On Sunday I did leave the worst of it behind me. I could slowly drink again and from that moment I actually started to recover. At first I was still a bit of a wreck, but on Monday things got better. The drip was removed and I could start walking around without tripping over that thing. I also got new roommates (three ladies this time) that day so there was someone around to talk to. It must have been scary for them to still see me there after a couple of days while they still needed the surgery. It would have scared me, for sure. It felt good for me that I was able to walk again by that time and I could give back what the other women had given to me. Simple things like getting a glass of water mean a lot when you feel so bad. At least it did to me.
When the doctors told me I could go home the next day, I was really restless. I wanted to go home so badly, but I was so scared that I would get sick again and that I would have to stay. I did pack my bags on Monday evening before I went to bed. I couldn’t sleep very well, but that didn’t matter. I was going home. When the doctors were doing there rounds and told me I was discharged, I felt so happy. I actually wanted to do my happy dance, but that would have been to painful so I will save that one for another day.
After I got home I realized how serious this all was. I wasn’t meant to be in the hospital for five nights and this wasn’t supposed to happen. Of course it was all a bit of bad luck that could have happened to anyone. That is what I kept telling myself while I was there. In the hospital I was mostly counting my blessings and looking for the positive things and I guess that’s what kept me going, but that wasn’t all there was. It could have happened to anyone, but it did happen to me. It is good to talk about that with the people around me and I even cried a little. It’s alright now and I am feeling better every day, but I did scare my family and friends and in the end also myself. So I’m glad to be home and able to write this. I do hope that this is the start of a successful recovery.