So, for those of you less fortunate that don't get to talk to me on a regular basis, I have bilateral kidney stones. It basically means my kidneys hate me and that I'm in for a world of pain. The reason why I know this, is because I had to be taken to the ER (I think I did a post about it) and they found a 5 mm obstructive (means it won't pass on its own) stone in my right kidney. OW.
So, after about 3 weeks of nothing but intermittent pain because the specialty clinic I had to go to wouldn't get me in until then, I finally was able to schedule my surgery.
Surgery, you ask? Yes. It's called a cystoscopy. Very clever word for "shove a huge camera up the tiny urethra (where your pee comes from) and look for the stone and try to catch it!" They did a cystoscopy, a lithotripsy (which is a clever word for playing metroid in my kidney--literally. They used a laser to blast the stone into a million pieces), and then a stent placement (which is like a reaaalllyyy long tube that goes up through the urethra, through the bladder, and to the kidney to have an artifical passageway always open so the stone fragments can be led out of my kidney). Most. Uncomfortable. Thing. Ever.
So, I was supposed to arrive at 1:30 yesterday (August 20, 2013), for pre-surgery testing and whatnot. It was a waste of time. I went in, signed in, was pulled back to the pre-surgery area, told to strip of everything (even my bra and underwear--shudder!) and had an I.V. placed. My nurse's name was Martha, and she was awesome. Only one poke and she had the I.V. in my hand. It lasted through surgery and everything! Go Martha!
Anyway, I ended up being placed in another unit because the one I was on was closing (no one to work it) and the sugery I was supposed to have at 3:30 didn't happen until 5:30. That's right. 4 hours of just sitting in a bed, fully nekkid under this cloth gown, and starving. Starving, because I was unallowed to eat after midnight monday going into Tuesday.
So, the anesthesiologist came to speak with me and had me open my mouth to say ah, because he wanted to see my airway. A flash of panic floated through my body. Were they planning to intubate me? Why? So I asked him just that. He seemed genuinely confused and surprised. Apparently, not many patients had the guts to ask the guy who was going to be responsible for knocking your ass out about why I needed to be intubated. He explained it simply. Basically, I was going to be asleep during the surgery. I wouldn't feel anything. However, if the doctor accidentally hit something that caused me to cough, it could damage my kidneys, and cause more issues. So, to prevent that, the anesthesiologist was going to paralyze me, intubate me, and breathe for me. I wouldn't be able to move, and I wouldn't be awake. Therefore, it reduced the risk for injury on my part.
Kinda scary, but yeah.
So, I finally was pulled back into the surgery suite, where my doctor, the resident, and the rest of the surgery team were waiting for me. The room was small, crowded, and I was claustrophobic. I was moved to a hard surgery table, the bed was wheeled out, and instantly people started moving. I was getting EPC cuffs on my legs to help circulation, I was getting a blood pressure cuff on my arm to watch my vitals, I had someone playing with my I.V. and replacing my pulse oximeter, I had like four people talking to me, and then I had the anesthesiologist messing with the mask and trying to knock me out.
After about five minutes it worked and I was asleep. The next thing I know it's like 6-6:10, I'm waking up, talking with a very sore throat to my nurse, unable to open my eyes, and wanting water. I feel a straw against my lips and I can't get my brain to want to let me drink yet, so she has to remind me to put my lips around the straw and suck. I do. The cool water is amazing to feel on my throat, but after a few moments, I cough and choke. My gag reflex isn't fully back yet.
So I start talking to her, pulling at the nasal cannula in my nose. It burns and everything is dry. Even my mouth. She shoves crackers at me, telling me to eat so she can get me pain medication, because my GOD, it hurts. Mostly my urethra and right side, but everything seems sore. I wondered if they dropped me for a moment. So, I try to eat a cracker, almost aspirate on the damn thing, and I'm trying to hold my glass of water while I'm coughing and everything else, and my nurse just stays by my side. I finally get like three saltines down and a whole glass and a half of water when the nurse starts to push flagyl in my I.V. It was like bliss. The pain went away in my throat, and even a little where the stent was. She was explaining that the procedure went good, I had no complications, and they were able to blast the stone.
I tell her I have to pee, but she doesn't believe me. I keep telling her until about 30 minutes pass and she finally lets me get up. She grabs my clothes and wheels me in a wheelchair to the bathroom to get dressed. I pee, and it's like I'm peeing sand, and it hurts. So I realize that the doctor placed a thread on the stent, and that if I catch myself just right on it trying to wipe, that i could dislodge the damn thing early. Great.
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| This is a stent by the way. The one on the top is the one I have. |
New learing experience. Find the string, put it to the side, kind of blot around down there to make sure I'm dry, and then let the string hang like it should, pull up underwear, put on pants, try to clasp bra, put on shirt, straighten hair, pull call light, sway a little because the room seems to want to move...and then get put back into the wheelchair. I thank Martha, because your nurses really do need praise, and then I'm wheeled downstairs to find my aunt, uncle, grandmother, mother, jamie, and jennifer all waiting for me. I stand up slowly, the nurse right behind me (because it's been less than an hour since I've been out of surgery and awake), and I hug everyone, make sure they know I'm okay, and then I go home.
I'm no longer hungry. I'm tired, and sore, and a little pissy. I just want to rest.
I go home, make a few phone calls with a raspy voice, and then rest for a while. By 9p, I have my meds. I take them. But I notice that I was only given 15 percocet. I worry a little, because if you take one percocet every six hours for pain for seven days, that should be 28 percocet. More about that later. I take the one I'm supposed to and end up being awake on the sixth hour dot to take my next one. I'm in pain.
Day 1: Post-Op
I tried to get up to go to class today. I really did. But I couldn't. I was in pain, my kidney hurt worse, everything hurt worse! I won't even get into everything that I feel/felt. I had to call the clinic this morning, which basically told me that I can't get another prescription until Monday earliest, which is a load of BULL. So, if I have to pull my stent without pain meds, I'm screwed, you know?
Then, I can only shower, but we have no shower curtain. Water goes everywhere.
When I pee, it hurts like hell. My body hates me.
I have to work tomorrow. I'm okay with that. But I'm scared that the pain is going to be unbearable.
I really just want to cry, which I've done a few times today because the pain has become so unmanageable that nothing helps.
I feel bad that I've ignored texts and everything, but texts seem kind of irrelevant sometimes when you're trying to hold still and find a good place that you don't have AS MUCH pain.
Maybe tomorrow will be better. I have to get some schoolwork done, and I should be able to drive. SHOULD. No guarantees. *sighs*
I'm going to eat dinner and then I'm going to rest again. Probably do some homework that I haven't touched in 2 days.
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