That Creaky Noise You Hear Is . . . .

I apologize for being slow in getting new posts added to the blog. I think of a good idea for a topic and then never get around to writing it.

My belly is doing quite nicely, but the rest of my body has decided to stiffen up. Or maybe it was stiff and sore for the last few weeks, but I didn’t notice because the abdomen was really sore. My joints all feel like someone added a little cement to the normal synovial fluid.

Example: I went to reach for something on a top shelf and my shoulder and arm seriously complained about doing this much moving. They bitched, they moaned, and I swear to God I heard distinct creaky noises, very similar to rusty hinges.

Because of this, I have started stretching as much as possible. I saw Dr. Schwartz this week and asked him about starting to do sit-ups and other exercises. He nixed the sit-ups, but said stretching and other exercise was probably fine. I see Dr. Caputo this Wednesday and will ask him what he suggests.

I have been hunched over a bit for the last six weeks. I guess major abdominal surgery will do that to your posture. Stretching should help this, too. As I write this, I am throwing my shoulders back a bit and sitting up straighter.

I am trying to take a long walk each day. This means that I get a long walk in every third day. On Thursday, I walked 1.5 miles and didn’t have too much of a problem. I did it pretty much without stopping, although I had to pause and pull up on the abdominal binder a couple of times. Wednesday, I walked around in Manhattan and probably did a mile. Yesterday, it rained. (What, you want me to get wet?)

I am only wearing the binder when I take walks now or when I drive. My whole abdomen still feels a bit jiggly when I don’t have it on. Things feel like they are still a bit loose and are definitely a bit sore. I feel like my abdominal muscles are all very loose, which is why I would like to start exercising them. Still, I think my upper abdomen is a bit swollen and maybe sit-ups would be rushing it a bit.

Stamina is another problem. I have to get moving again just so that the first day back at work doesn’t kill me. I work part-time in a bookstore. I have worn a pedometer at the bookstore and have clocked as much as four miles in an eight-hour shift. The store I work as is large. Going from the front entrance to the back and then up to the front again is 0.1 mile.

That said, let me go take a walk.

Dreams and Prayers (or More Scenes from a Recuperation)

I don’t know what it means but I have had a couple of odd dreams since the surgery.

About two days after the surgery, I dreamt that I was walking around the hospital looking for the oxygen cannula, that two pronged plastic thing that sits under your nostrils and gives you oxygen. When I woke up, I discovered that I had knocked it away from my face, so I readjusted it and went back to sleep.

Two weeks ago, I had the oddest dream about my mother. In the dream, I was hurt and angry that, not only had she not come to see me when I was in the hospital, she had not even come up to see how I was doing now that I was home. She hadn’t even called. In the dream, I was getting more upset and angry that she was ignoring me. I woke up from the dream still feeling angry and hurt that she had not shown any concern about my surgery. It was a typical bad-dream emotional backwash. After a couple of minutes, when I was more awake, I remembered that my mother died more than 15 years ago. This made me feel sort of stupid at getting angry in the dream. Freud would probably have a field day over that one.

I also remember this odd reverie I had the first day or so after surgery. I was lying in the hospital bed, still sort of out of it from the anesthesia and the pain killers, and I decided that I ought to pray. So, I started saying an Our Father to myself.

Our heaven who art in Father. Not right.

Art Father who our in heaven. That sort of sounded right, but not quite. I tried that one again and got stuck on the Art Father part. Art. God. Creation and creator. I started this theological discussion with myself about God the creator and art being a creation and this went around in circles for a bit. I thought the whole thing was just blindingly brilliant and a major breakthrough in religious thought before I fell asleep again.

I didn’t remember this again until a few days ago and I laughed myself silly over it. This may prove that you should not pray under the influence of painkillers.

I am doing excellently. I feel much better, but not stronger. I have to build up my stamina a lot before I go back to work. I no longer have to wear the abdominal binder all the time, but I usually wear it if I am walking.

However—insert trumpet fanfare here—I am driving again. Believe me, this feels great. I have gone shopping for groceries and gone to the pharmacy and driven myself to church. Yesterday, I drove to the Danbury Mall and met Cathy, who drove down from Springfield, Mass., to have lunch with me. My college friends are the best. After lunch, I had a haircut and did some shopping.

I am also able to sleep on my side now. I had been sleeping on my back for the last few weeks, which meant that I was snoring. My mouth would be terribly dry when I woke up and sometimes it was the dryness that woke me up.

Things just keep improving.

Scenes From a Recuperation

I am really feeling much better each day, but I still get tired rather easily. The pain is much diminished, except for this cramp that I get occasionally on one side of my abdomen, which I have to remember to tell someone about.

The main incision is healing fine. It is now starting to itch, which everyone tells me is a sign that it is healing. A damned annoying sign, if you ask me.

The hole where my belly button was is doing OK, I suppose. I am still packing it with wet gauze twice a day and covering it with a dressing. I see Dr. Schwartz again on Friday. It just seems a little bit deep to me. I have no idea what this is going to look like when it heals. At the moment, it is deep enough to store spare change in.

I am walking about half a mile on most days. I them come home and take a nap. I am also doing some housecleaning, including cooking for myself and doing laundry. And my napping skills are simply to die for.

So what have I been doing most days? I have been playing around on the computer and watching a lot of television. Mostly I have been watching movies, but I have finally caught up with CSI. In the past, I have rarely watched any series or network television because I have not been home most nights. I confess that I have never seen The West Wing, 24 or Lost. But one cable channel plays two episodes of CSI back to back every night and I have gotten hooked on it. Or maybe I just have a serious lech for William Petersen.

I have also indulged in watching movies, lots and lots of movies. I have seen two different versions of “Jane Eyre,” the Orson Welles version and the William Hurt version. I have watched “Kung Fu Hustle,” which is what you get if you cross a Bugs Bunny Looney Tunes cartoon with a kung fu movie. I also watched “Zatoichi,” which is a kung fu movie that ends with this extended tap dance scene for no apparent reason. (Alright, I tend to like kung fu movies. So sue me.)

And I have been knitting a lot. I have started on Helen’s green sweater, the one that has been two years in the decision process. I have finished a pair of tiger striped socks and started another pair in red and multicolored wool. I am a happy camper.

So, for the bulk of this recuperation, people have been bringing me food or taking me out to dinner, and I have been laying on the couch reading or watching television and knitting. Frankly, I see no profit in getting well.

Further Navel Maneuvers

I had my regular Friday date with Dr. Schwartz today. And YESSSSS!! The final drain came out. I would get up and dance but I am still a bit too sore for that. I was thoroughly, completely, and utterly sick of having a plastic appendage that had to be emptied twice a day.

In addition to taking out the drain, Dr. Schwartz also took out my belly button.

For those of you who have not been following along, I had an umbilical hernia that was fixed during the same surgery as the total hysterectomy. The hysterectomy incision, or at least the one that shows, is horizontal and pretty much goes from my left hip bone to my right along what would be a bikini line if I ever had the figure to wear a bikini. (I once did have a figure for a bikini, but I was five at the time.) There is another, interior incision that is vertical.

Fixing the hernia created a circular incision around my navel. When I first looked at this after surgery, my belly button was a rather ugly purple and there were black sutures around the incision. It looked like a hairy eyeball.

For the last two weeks, Dr. Schwartz has been telling me that it looked like my navel was healing from the inside out and that the surface skin of the navel itself might fall off. Last week, he removed the sutures, and for the past week, I have slathered Bacitracin on the wound and changed the dressing twice a day.

Today, Dr. Schwartz took a look at it and said that he was going to debride the wound. This is doctor talk for “remove dead tissue.” Lucky for me, the entire navel is numb, because it looked like he was pulling out a lot of stuff. He packed it into a little vial and said that he would be sending it out to be checked by a pathologist. What was left was a hole where my belly button used to be. This hole is about half an inch deep, or maybe even deeper. I have to pack it twice a day with gauze soaked in saline and cover that with a clean dressing.

By this time in my life, I should have a nursing degree. Dr. Schwartz asked me if I could do this myself and said that he could arrange for a nurse if I couldn't. I looked at him like he had two heads. Pack an open wound with wet gauze? Piffle. I had cleaned much bigger surgical wounds on Bernie and had no problems. I could do this. I am beginning to wonder just what I will blanche at. Setting my own fractured arm? Suturing closed a knife wound?

At what point do I turn into someone normal who runs screaming at the sight of blood?