The Day After Reconstruction

I'm sitting here fighting the effects of vicodin and valium in order to write my thoughts on this day after my surgery. It's been an odd day.

The day began at 7:30 a.m. with me in the bathroom stripping my drains. It was odd to be back to dealing with drains again. Without much thought, I grabbed my alcohol pad and began pinching the tube on my right side while sliding my hand down the tube toward the bulb attached to the end. It only took a moment before moving on to the left side for more of the same. Again I followed the same procedure, only I had forgotten that all things have been more uncomfortable with my left side than my right. I quickly stripped the drain and released the tube, upon which I felt a deep sucking pain in my upper chest at the top of my "breast". I had an odd thought as I was nearly passing-out from the pain - "Is this what a sucking chest wound feels like?" Of course I wasn't bleeding out, but I was seeing a large donut-like circle with a black center floating in front of my eyes. Quickly, I sat on the toilet and called for my mom. When she couldn't hear me from the other side of the house and past all the noise of breakfast cooking and babies squealing I purposed to make it back to my bed where I promptly fell asleep for another two hours. So much for starting school with my son on time.

Eventually, I came too and joined the family. I was feeling rather fine with pain meds in my system and was able to sit with Koen and guide him through his school work. Much of the time I wanted to lie my head on the table and rest, but was determined for us to not lose a day of school work. As the day went on I washed a few dishes and was able to do a little paperwork which felt productive. I was just seeing the wood grain on the top of my desk when I began running out of steam. Was it really possible that I had done so little and could be that exhausted?

As much as it pained me, I spent most of the day avoiding the babies because they wanted me to pick them up and I couldn't. It was just upsetting for them, so I tried to redirect them to my mom or sister. I really just wanted to be able to snatch them up and cuddle them, but I've been here before with my first surgery and knew better. I did that the first time, insisting that I could lift them without hurting myself and wound up paying a price. I really had to resist their cuteness and especially their cries. Thank God my family was here to give them the attention they needed.

By late afternoon I was completely spent and gave-in to the call of my bed. I collapsed into an oblivious slumber, sleeping right through the wonderful dinner delivered by a friend from our home school support group. At approximately 11 pm, I woke to the sound of a crying baby and, realizing I was hungry, made my way to the kitchen. One bowl of cereal later and a slow trip to the bathroom for my evening meds and I was back in bed. The whole day was a slow blur, but whew! One day down, two weeks and six days to go until I can pick up my babies - and six weeks to go before I can go back to running. It'll be there before I know it and I'll be so glad.