Back! Just yesterday, I was able to hold my laptop on my lap for a while. It's quite a core workout, did you know that? Today I'm trying to type more and hoping I can do more today. I am not the world's most patient person but this recovery has taught me a lot about patience. I have to be patient with myself as I recover.
The surgery injured my abdominal muscles. On Monday, I told Mike it felt like I was a baby learning how to use my abdominal muscles all over again. It was struggle to sit down on the toilet. It was a struggle to get out of the bed to walk around the hospital floor. It was a struggle to bring a spoon to my mouth. A few days later, I am getting the hang of those basic activities. It will take time to rebuild my abdominal muscles. Hence, the reason why they keep on telling me I had to take it easy for 6-8 weeks before trying my normal activities again. I just sat in a chair for a full hour and I saw that as a positive step. It was awesome because by sitting up, Mike gave me a manicure as a reward! I can walk up and down the stairs in our house. This morning was my first outing. I had a bad case of cabin fever and wanted to get out. We went to get some breakfast and it was a nice outing. Mike commented that the thing with recovery... you should not do too much or do too little. I am trying to figure out what the happy medium is. It'll take time each day.
I was happy to be able to disconnect from the world on Sunday night in preparation for the surgery. I was drinking fluids like crazy because it was the only thing I could digest. I went to bed feeling scared knowing that the time has run out. I woke up Monday morning in an automatic mode. Get myself cleansed with Hibiclens (surgical preparation solution that they told me to shower with). Put on the outfit that I would leave the hospital in. We walked out in upper east side of Manhattan as the city was waking up. I was so happy it was snowing! I was frustrated by the restaurants, cafes and bakeries emitting aromatic smells. I was starved!!! We arrived at the hospital a few minutes before 7 AM. We were greeted by a nurse escort at the entrance who was waiting for us. I saw the interpreter being approached by the staff Spanish interpreter. Ugh. We later learned that she was telling the interpreter that Mike and I are demanding. Hmph. If we ask for quality interpreting services, that makes us demanding? No. I did not appreciate that because it seemed like they keep on trying to scare the interpreters into thinking we are big, bad monsters. I told Mike I did not want to see her nor the interpreter coordinator lurking around for the rest of my time in the hospital.
We were escorted to sixth floor where I was admitted. I asked which floor I will be staying overnight. The nurse escort said 19th floor. I remember thinking that it was far up in the building. And the building was not that tall. We were put in a private room for me to change into a hospital gown. The interpreter commented that everyone were instructed to make sure we were treated as if we were VIPs. I was puzzled by the nurse escort and the individualized attention but just went with it. They were getting me prepared for the surgery. I met with my anesthesiologist and his resident. And then Dr. Jewell and her resident. I asked about how the sentinel lymph node removal would work if no lymph nodes turned blue/green after I was injected with a radioactive dye. She said that they would go back to the traditional approach and use a chart to identify which lymph nodes to take out. I remember hoping that some of them would turn blue / green because I did not want to have all of them taken out.
The wait was too long. I did not get wheeled into the operating room until around 9:10 AM. I checked in at 7 AM. It did not do much good for my anxiety but... I stayed as optimistic as I could and kept on talking with Mike. Then 9:10 AM came. I was wheeled in with my interpreter who was put in scrubs. I was impressed by how many operating rooms there were. I asked how many there were in total... they said 21. I asked if they were all full that morning. "Yes." A busy morning for sure.
I entered my operating room and remember feeling awed by how fancy it was. It was the best operating room I have seen. There were big TV monitors on the wall. My vital information was listed on one of the TV monitors. I saw that they had a time log. 9:10 AM: "PT enters OR", 9:15 AM: "PT transferred to surgical bed", 9:20 AM: "IV fluids given", so forth. I would have liked to see the entire log afterwards. I was admittedly very spooked by how HUGE the daVinci robotic system was. I was like, "Those arms are going inside me?!" Ugh. I was impressed by how Dr. Jewell took an active role in getting me comfortable and prepared in the operating room. I am used to surgeons letting the residents and nurses do all the preparation. The last thing I remember was asking what the second TV monitor was for... and then I slept. The interpreter later asked if I remember the answer. She told them that it looked like I was out of it because I was not responsive. The second TV monitor was where they could see the video of the surgery in process. The interpreter was taken out of the operating room after that. The surgery began at 10:35 AM. I wonder why it took them a long time to prepare me in the operating room. I guess it'll remain a mystery. I was out of the operating room at 12:35 PM.
I remember waking up to Mike telling the interpreter that he did not want to miss me waking up and had to be there for me. I was tired. I was annoyed that they left the catheter inside. I told the nurse it had to go! I was told they would take it out before I was out of the operating room. I was waking up and the only thing I wanted was to get it OUT! Then I wanted a cup of water! The nurse said I had to wait. Agh. I finally got a small amount of water to see if I could keep it down. I did! And they gave me more water. After my surgery on January 9th, I was across from a guy. We started a competition to see who can fully wake up first. It was fun. On Monday, I saw a guy across from me. I decided to start by smiling at him. He was sad. That made me sad. It felt like a few minutes before they wheeled me to my room. Mike told me I was in recovery about 2.5 hours and it felt like forever to him. Ha. I waved to the guy before leaving but he was still sad. I hope he's okay from his surgery.
In the elevator, I noticed that 19th floor was the TOP floor. When I got off the elevator, I was surprised. It felt like I had entered the penthouse of some sort NOT a hospital floor. It was fancy. There was a security officer monitoring each person entering the floor. It felt like a posh hotel. It was not white, nor clinical. It was warm and inviting. I was confused. I thought it was Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center's typical hospital room. I figured that I had come to the best. I was put in Suite 1912. No roommate. Nice view of the east side of Manhattan and Roosevelt Island. The suite was roomy with a couch. I was wowed. I later learned that this floor require advance reservations. The security guard works until midnight. If there are royalty or important people, the security guard works 24 hours. The nurse technician, Gilbert, who gave me a tour the next morning apologized to me that I was not important enough to get a 24-hour security detail. I told him I felt a princess being on this floor anyway. Someone said that they were going to put me on 10th floor which looks just like a hospital room but it was full. Advance reservations? I think that was the hospital's way of apologizing for messing up in providing effective communication access services. On that tour, Gilbert told me about how there are 14 suites on that floor. That morning five were unoccupied. Some of the suites are big enough to accompany 25 people as some royalties and dignitaries bring their own staff: security guards, nurses, etc. Yikes. I was glad to get a regular suite and had only Mike in it. Mike made a video of the hospital floor and the suite: https://youtu.be/KASQGcNZtwk
Upon arrival, they immediately put electronic compression boots on me that keep on squeezing. It was impossible to fall into deep sleep with those boots on. They fed me a late lunch of soup, jello, and Italian ice. I ate all of that except for the Italian ice. Sugar was having weird effects on my tongue... must be the medications. I loved eating the chocolate ice cream though and it did not have that effect. They showed me where to get more if I wanted during the night. I was ready to sleep but they kept on sending nurses and nurse technicians to check on me. My friend, Judy, who lives in the city came to visit. She had a hysterectomy a few years ago. She was impressed that by 4:30 PM I already peed on my own, walked around a bit, and ate. She visited briefly as I was really sleepy. I never got to fall asleep because I kept on getting poked again and again. Dr. Jewell came at around 6 PM to see how I was doing. She said I looked really good. She said that some lymph nodes turned blue/green and those were removed. I asked how many. She said that the pathologist will do a count of lymph nodes that were removed. I asked if I'm stage 1, does it mean that I'm done? She said, "Not necessarily." Interestingly, Dr. Diaz-Montes said I'm done after the surgery. Dr. Jewell refused to discuss "what ifs" with me at all. She said we had to wait until the pathologist is done. It usually takes 10 to 12 days for a pathologist to process all the removed parts: cervix, uterus, tubes, and lymph nodes. I see her on April 14th to learn my stage and if I need any adjuvant treatment. I really dread the wait but I have been busy focusing on getting better.
I tried to eat dinner but found solids very challenging to eat so stuck with fluids. The interpreter coordinator tried to see us that evening. Mike told the interpreter to tell him no. 30 minutes later, he asked to speak with Mike outside the room. Mike told the interpreter no... he was focusing on me. I was annoyed that the interpreter coordinator was lurking. He really had no business being there. He provided the services. He did his part. Now let the medical team do their jobs. He was insisting on getting information from the interpreters about my health. The interpreters refused to give him any information. He was getting frustrated with them.
They finally let me sleep from 1:50 AM til about 5 AM. I ached for MORE sleep but decided that I would just wait until I get home to sleep. Because I was able to walk around the floor several times and pee on my own several times, they discharged me at around 11 AM. I was sad to leave that posh floor but... they never really let me sleep. I was ready to go home! Leaving Manhattan was painful! Potholes, uneven streets, and unexpected stops. Yeow! We made a quick stop to get lunch to go at the Soup Man. This is the spot that inspired the Soup Nazi on Seinfeld. I enjoyed my lunch in the car but I wanted to get out of Manhattan. Once we got on the highway, it was smooth sailing the rest of way. We stopped at least once every hour for me to walk around to prevent blood clotting. We were home by 5 PM. I could not eat much. I fell asleep pretty early and slept through the night. The next two days I was sleeping a lot. I felt like someone cast a sleeping spell on me. On the third day, I was awake during the day time. Today, though, I fell asleep for a two-hour nap. I'm not a napper. I need to allow myself to take naps when my body needs it.
My pain comes and goes. I have five incisions. Four of them are sealed with Dermabond (superglue). One bigger incision is the most painful and is sealed with steristrips. This was where the robot's main arm operated. It continues to hurt today. Last night, I was laughing so hard at a sitcom. It was a hilarious episode. I am paying the price today. I guess in my case, "Laughter is the best medicine" does not apply. Chocolate punched me with his paws because he was uncomfortable in bed last night. Ow. I don't think Chocolate can sleep next to me for a while. I am learning the right things to do to help manage the pain although the pain medication is awesome. :-) It'll take time. Onward.
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