Friday, August 5, 2011

Homecoming

We're home!! And it feels so good to be here. All though I appreciated the wonderful staff at the hospital, it is amazing to be back in my house, where no one wants to take my blood pressure, temperature, or ask me to state my name and birthday at various hours of the day and night. Recovering in the hospital wasn't exactly fun-filled. At one point I had a fever and had to have my temperature checked every 30 minutes. Fortunately, it wasn't a true fever, but required me to drink water and juice by the gallon which of course meant I had to get up and go to the bathroom (not fun) every hour. Of course, Liam got to spend most of the time in the room with us, so I had no problem wiling away the hours watching him. Sleeping would have been my second favorite thing to do, but unfortunately, sleeping is not something that readily occurs in the hospital.

So a little more on recovery because it was an interesting few days. I went into the postpartum wing on Monday night after the c-section. I was still hooked up to the epidural so after waking up from the fabulous bonus c-section drugs, I was feeling pretty good. Apparently, the nursing staff thought there was a problem with my catheter and decided on Tuesday morning at about 4am that I needed a new one (woohoo for me). Turns out there was nothing wrong with my catheter, I was just so dehydrated from everything that I was only "going" just a tiny little bit. Amazing, considering at that point I had about 12 IV bags worth of fluid in me. After the catheter went back in at 4am, it came out at 7am and I was told it was time to get up and start moving. Yipes! My first trip to the bathroom was rather public as I not only got to walk my half-naked self over there with tons of assistance and on-lookers, I also got to have my "deposit" inspected by about three different people for both quality and quantity. Fortunately, I passed...whatever that means.

Tuesday was also the day of the sponge bath. There is nothing quite like sitting on the toilet naked while being scrubbed by someone you met two hours ago at shift change. I can't complain too much - it felt amazing - but I'm not exactly comfortable with someone scrubbing up all the goods. And I do mean ALL the goods. What do you say and/or where do you look while someone is scrubbing what she calls "the good stuff"? I tried to take it all in stride, and I was very thankful to be clean, but I could have held out another day when I was finally allowed to shower on my own.

It was a long day of getting up and down and taking my laps around the ward, but at least I had lots of visitors. Even after visiting hours are over, it's hard to feel alone at the hospital. People come in at all hours to check varying things, but to also do very important things like deliver pain medicine. My least favorite visit of the hospital was probably when the anesthesiologist came in at 6am on Wednesday morning to announce that they were taking my epidural and the magic extra-dose button that comes with it away. I knew Wednesday was D-day, but 6am? Really? By 7am, the nurses had taken it away and I was on to oral pain medication only. For a girl that can't swallow pills, this is an interesting prospect. The liquid vicodin was fabulous, but I have to take 800mL (which is equal to 800mg) of ibuprofen. That is a LOT of little liquid packs the nurse has to open when they only come in 100mL size.

Fortunately, Thursday rolled around and we got to come home. Although I'm elated to be home, I imagine Thomas must feel as happy as me if not more. For the entire hospital stay he got to stay on a fold-out chair-bed that his feet hung off the end of. He stayed by my side for practically our entire stay at the hospital (he really only left to go home a few times for clothes and to get food for himself) and witnessed things that would have had most men running for the hills. He deserves a medal because he was definitely in the trenches (get that metaphor?). He took it all in stride and didn't even breathe a sigh of relief and run when I told him if he was uncomfortable doing/seeing whatever it was he was helping me with or helping me through...he just kept going strong. I'm lucky to have such a great guy - he's certainly seen me at my worst, now, and he's still around.

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