Hi chaps, wow all you recent evictees seem to have bounced back way quicker than me. The additional bile duct exploration deffo seems to have been an extra kick in the gut to recover from, more than I was expecting I think.
I finally got round to writing up my experience for anyone interested who can stay awake long enough. It got quite long! Here goes:
An early start to be in hospital for 7.30am Monday morning, nothing like seizing the week! Check in and a volley of folk come by with pre op stuff. Once they’re done I duly donn the beaut stockings and gown but, small consolations, am allowed to keep my pants on. From there we’re off and I get walked up to theatre and handed over to the surgical team. She’s taken my trainers... no escaping now! I’m stop checked outside theatre on a trolley for some advisory about the camera they are going to use being off license for going up bile ducts, whatevs, and name checked for the billionth time. There’s some disagreement that I’m now ‘on wheels’ so I get taken back off the trolley and walked in to theatre to be greeted by everyone who I’d met downstairs. It is all very cheery as well as a bit surreal to climb onto the operating table and offer myself up. I lie there like a casual observer as they fit wedges either side of me, adjust my pony tail, mess up one cannula and fit a second.
Within minutes there’s the feeling of a good couple of gin and tonics knocking round my system, my head feels warm and fuzzy and they suggest I might like to hold the oxygen mask over my face. Seconds later I’m out of it!
Next thing I know I’m coming too in recovery, it smarts a bit and I seem to have the shakes. I’m very groggy and shortly after on the move and wheeled to a private room on a ward. It’s probably about 1.30pm? Ahh peace and quiet!
I just. want. to. lie. as. still. as. possible. It’s like a reeally bad hangover. But the nurses are in and out, ‘drink water, take obs, order dinner, get up to pee’. One of my drains from surgery is leaking and I’m lying in a pool of manky fluid. I’m cajoled upright which feels terrible and I still can’t pee. Great. This (aside from not vomiting) becomes the singular goal as they threaten the C word. Catheter. Nurses are part sadomasochists and part superhero, fact. I have a tentative few mouthfuls of dinner and sip my way through as much water and peppermint tea as I can.
It slowly gets better. In the middle of the night I win the first point against the pee monster and by morning feel vaguely human. Later that day the drains are put into stoma bags, which is one less thing to manage on my wobbly journeys and also stops me looking like a fresh stab victim.
I’m gaining more confidence on my feet and move to a bay ward. It still hurts quite a bit, everywhere is tender but drain pain is the proper killer, hurrah for liquid morphine! I’m very sleepy. Tuesday passes into Wednesday and they’re happy to take one of the drains out. A bit of a toe curling experience but it improves things slightly. Drain B is deeper though and my abs keep involuntarily contracting around it which is excruciating. Curse you yoga practice! I’m having a sneak preview of what it feels like to be 90 I think.
Apparently my bile duct was crammer with stones and there was more trouble waiting in the gallbladder so a good job done. For the first time in the last two years I’m not crazily itchy either. I think this has been brewing a while?
Even still, by Thursday morning I’m desperate; I beg the consultant to let me have the drain out. Luckily there’s no sign of a bile leak and the amount of fluid is reducing nicely. He agrees! Within 2 hours it’s out (oh my was it in deep), but I have waterproof dressings so I can get a shower for the first time post op and I’m on the release list. Much jubilation as I’m suddenly aware I smell gross. Clean and dressed I feel like a (very fragile) new person!
So I came home very gingerly on Thursday afternoon (to lovely doggy cuddles) and have had some very quiet days since. I’m mainly coping on paracetamol and ibuprofen but have had to top up a bit with the morphine and codeine, usually in the late afternoon/early evening is when it gets me. I’ve never slept more in my life but I guess it’s good for healing.
My appetite has been slow to come back. I’ve had bouts of nausea and been craving plain dinners, lots of fresh fruit and veg and really not interested in anything rich. I don’t even want cake! Friday’s milestone was, TMI, my first poo. Glad everything seems to be working fine in the digestion department, albeit gurglier than a gurgly thing. Anyone else?
The next biggie will be changing the dressings and having a proper investigation of the damage. My tummy button wound is already dry so been left uncovered since Wednesday. The two drain wounds on my right hand side are sore, they pull when I walk and have big dressing pads on yet and I have another sore spot between my boobs which is under wraps. I’m not very cool with gore, especially to myself!
Things I learned?
Coughing hurts, hold your tummy for damage limitation and have water nearby to drown it as much as possible.
Laughing hurts more. (I made myself cry a couple of times 😭 ) perfect your poker face and keep those who think it’s funny close so you can grip their hand with equal vigour to pass on some of the discomfort. Hope that good karma gets them back.
My phone has been a godsend. I usually love to read but this week I pick up a book, read the same time paragraph 5 times and put it down. I’ve loved gentle Spotify playlists, light podcasts and Radio 4 programmes on the BBC sounds app.
You know you look bad when face recognition on your iPhone stops working. Sob.
Soft bra-let underwear and comfy waistband joggers are a must.
I’ve been doing led relaxation meditations that have really helped me keep calm and breathe - especially before bed and when pain steals it.
Overall I’m massively grateful to get such first rate care in our amazing NHS and equally lucky to be heading home ‘fixed’ while lots of people struggle with ongoing health problems. There’s a way to go yet but I’m deffo on the mend.