In recovery from surgery

Yes, again.


This post will contain medical details that may not be pleasant reading for the squeamish, and significant swearing. You have all been warned.

When I wrote that last post I was dealing with knowing what was likely to be upcoming – and as ever my ability to be prescient about my own health proved accurate.

I needed more surgery. Which I was not happy about and was having a strong case of “not just a river in Egypt”.

But wait, I hear you cry dear audience. What was left for them to take out or otherwise fiddle with?!?!

Well apparently I had at least one cyst hanging out masquerading as an ovary*

Ghost ovary was a term bandied about pre-surgery which was fun. My surgeon made it sound like Pac Man was hanging about in there but at least it was something they felt would be easily dealt with.

Then came the bit that made me pull this set of faces –> 😖🥺😖🥺😖🥺

When I get in there I’ll have a good rummage about and see what I can find and deal with

Now I am most definitely paraphrasing a bit, as that discussion was over a month ago and I’ve had a general anaesthetic since then – three days later and my brain is still more than a little scrambled. But you know, that’s still not the most reassuring way to put it is it?

Anyway, I went up on Tuesday morning for 07:30 surgery and that bit at least all went pretty much according to plan. I came around to find that it wasn’t even 10am, so less than two hours under the knife which was good.

Oh, and they managed to insert my IV the first time, and in my non-dominant arm at that. But this time removing it was a problem – narrow veins caused an issue, so I’m now sporting another fetching bruise.

I also wasn’t in much pain when I woke up which was great.

Yes, I did take the offered Percocet, and am still taking the pain pills as needed – I’m not being a hero this time…

However, upon discharge the hus-creature got given some information that I wasn’t aware of.

I mean, the surgeon did come and see me post-op, and talked at me, but I was spacey as fuck and still on the oxygen, so there’s no way I took any of it in….

Instead of just the one expected incision through the good old navel (yet again) I am also sporting yet another incision along my bikini line.

Because, as I predicted, my insides were still fucked all to hell.

My intestines were so stuck together with adhesions (from endometriosis) that they resembled a severely kinked up garden hose. That’s a direct quote from the surgeon.

I was also severely backed up. Which is amazing to me, as this new diet had been working *wonders* on my digestive system or so I thought.

But see, this still wasn’t a surprise to me. As it explained so much of my issues both past and present when I flare up.

I’ve had these particular issues since at least age 18. I can clearly remember having to miss university classes because I couldn’t move from the bathroom. So yeah, almost 20 years.

You see, when endometrial scars and adhesions activate, inflame, whatever we want to call it they do all sorts of fun and happy shit. This includes constricting and contracting. It’s like being in labour. All. The. Time.

Now imagine that happening in your bowels. Sound fun? Nope it kinda wasn’t and isn’t.

But apparently my surgeon may have been able to deal with a lot of it. I don’t know exactly how much yet – I should get the scope of it next week at my post operative checkup.

I should also get the histology on the cyst – but honestly I firmly believe the cyst is incidental. That the real cause of my recent bouts of pain was the bowel issues.

So that’s been dealt with. At least for now. And clearly the dairy free, fun free diet has been helping.

In one little bit of amusement, the nurse wanted me to eat a little before she gave me any strong pain killers (which is fair enough) and they gave me some honey Graham’s. Which are lovely.

But they are made with enriched grains and all the bad sugars and contain dairy. And when I read the label one of the first things I said was:

Uh oh, don’t tell Doctor Witkowski

And she replied that yes she often had to sneak these to his patients and felt bad about it but that there wasn’t much they could do. I just grinned, promised not to tell him and asked for some more 🤣😂

So here I am at home recovering. The hus-creature took the rest of the week off to look after the kids for me. Even now three days later I’m still suffering from “Stop, Drop and Nap” Syndrome so he’s had to take full responsibility for them – and he’s doing an amazing job both with them and looking after me.

TT did baking with Daddy this morning.

Daddy and #1 Son are spring cleaning in his room and doing a major tidy and sort out of toys, books and similar. We had done the annual clothes purge last week in advance of the return to school (and Second Grade 🥺) next week.

So I’m currently surplus to requirements which is fantastic as it means I can focus on trying to reboot again.

I don’t know what happens next, but hopefully Tuesday next week will tell me more.

*Allow me to clarify. I had the joy of a pelvic ultrasound whilst mid flare up and the scanner detected an ovary. Which is impossible and so therefore was presumed to be a cyst.

Author: Fliss

Wife, mum (of two), yarn-obsessed cat-slave