Checking the wound

I have come to terms with changing my own dressings and taken control...

I feel well in my head, I'm eating nutritious food, drinking lots of water, the pain of bowel movements is getting less and less each day although probably still 6/10 pain factor which is not something I want to get used to.

So the latest challenge is my abdominal scar bleed which happened Friday night and following a check-up at A&E I had the option of changing my dressings at home or waiting to see the doctor/nurse. I wouldn't mind coping with these sorts of changes if I actually knew what to expect or how to respond. So far I've had no follow up since my discharge from hospital and feel quite narked at not even getting a phone call. When I had my laparoscopy last year somebody phoned a few days after I was home to check how I was and this is far more extensive surgery.

Yesterday I woke at 4.30am to the dawn chorus so lay about ruminating my dreams - I was in Venice in a piazza with my parents and I divert to a path to meet a friend who is with 5 kids, two are hers and three of them are ugly and blind and I'm unsure why they are meeting me here when I just want to sight-see!

 I change my blood soaked dressing laying out the gauze swabs and adhesive dressings alongside the saline solution (made from Cornish sea salt and hot water!) I used to faint at the sight of my own blood but this just makes me feel like I have a job to do, licking my wounds I suppose. There is a little gap in the incision where the dark blood is oozing out but it doesn't look infected and I have embraced my body's cleansing function with stoicism. I need to find out how long it will bleed, if this is normal and don't seem to get any definite answers from the GP or the consultant's secretary who says I must get a referral from my GP to see him. To be honest I don't have the energy to push for appointments so I don't.

Later in the day I feel a loss of faith in my healing ability, yet I'm hard on myself more than others, I've never felt so bashed about in my life. I'm trying to be more objective and less self-focused.

Cloud scrying is a good way of getting out of your body, if there are clouds you can see from where you are. It is a way of finding shapes or images in the clouds, I saw a bearded Neptune and a lemur! My brain is working well then!

Panic! My incision started bleeding 2 weeks post-op

If it's going to happen it will happen on the busiest Friday of the year at 5pm......

I was daring to feel more positive about my body on its road to recovery, moving about more but not overexerting, resting a lot and eating sensibly. With support from my mum during the day I was really lucky, she had gone home and I pottered into the kitchen when I felt something dripping down my leg, looked down and saw blood - aaaarrrrghh!!!!

This is quite a shocking thing to happen when you think you're all glued up and told that nothing can drop out, but the blood was coming from my incision and had soaked through my dressing, saturating it and then when I stood up....drip drip drip....horror movie or what???

So my initial reaction was, 'ok I'm not going to die' so I shuffled back to the sofa and called my partner and my mum. Then I called 111, the NHS helpline and a nurse asked me several questions to ascertain what was going on. As the doctors surgery was shut for the weekend (this still makes me laugh as people get ill on a Saturday and Sunday too) I was advised to get to my nearest A&E or call an ambulance. So holding a towel against my belly I was driven to the A&E department where I hoped to get some treatment and also to find out why this had happened two weeks after my surgery. I have great respect for the medical profession but follow-up care is sadly lacking in the overstretched NHS.

After being poked, told that the gorier the better for one A&E nurse(!) and talked about while still in the room, I had my blood taken then waited 3 hours in a room with the door closed (and no call button) before having more dressings put on my seeping wound and told to come back tomorrow if it had soaked through. Apparently, a bit of blood can be trapped after surgery and needs to come out somehow, with me it chose to come out on a Friday evening. 

It was not an experience I ever want to repeat, not only was I told that someone would see me 'in a minute' (they didn't), they didn't let my partner and mum know I was waiting in the room alone and being an impatient patient I shuffled off the bed holding my belly like a pregnant woman (ironic as post-hysterectomy!) walked past at least 10 members of staff looking like death warmed up, and into a packed waiting room. I reckon if I was auditioning for a zombie movie I would get the star zombie role handed to me there and then!

I turned to mum on the way home in the car and said, if I need my dressing changed tomorrow I'm doing it, never, ever take me back there! I know I sound ungrateful but with the correct information and reassurance I would have been able to cope with what was happening to my poor healing body. If someone had said to me, it's just a part of the process, just allow it to drain and keep it clean, then I could have approached it with a better frame of mind. It's just as well I'm extremely positive and able to cope with these setbacks.

Imprisoned by my body

I feel yukky.....

Three days post-op and the dawning realisation that I am actually quite poorly has set in and my mind has decided to tell me that I actually feel really ill.

I feel imprisoned by my own body and it's attachments. The fucking drain, a subject of much discussion by the visiting team of urologists and gynaecologists is talked about, looked at and I'm told it can be removed but it hasn't. It sits in my side congealing making me feel sick, I'm surprised vampires aren't swarming around the ward - I'm easy pickings right now.

This catheter is hindering my already limited movement, on the plus side it is useful to not have to get up and down to have a wee. I feel sick today. It could be the thought of having to have a blood transfusion - do something new everyday - ok I'll have two big bags of someone elses blood please!

Oh and I feel dirty and smelly and can't do much about it other than sponge myself while sitting. My head aches, my neck is stiff from all this laying about. There is no striking pain but I feel grotty as if I've been put in a room with no air, had my insides ripped out, been drugged, and not washed for a week - I think that is pretty much what has happened.

Ok, enough of this negativity although I am justified to feel a little bit sorry for myself considering all the problems I've encountered with this hysterectomy.

THEN SOMETHING MARVELLOUS HAPPENED.....

I had a blood transfusion! If you can imagine filling up a car with petrol or a glass with some delicious nutritious juice or one of those charts you see on game shows where the tube gets filled up the more noise you make....that is what having a blood transfusion feels like.

Almost instantly my colour came back into my cheeks and I could feel my energy renewing. 

THANK YOU SO MUCH BLOOD DONORS OF THE WORLD - I REALLY, REALLY APPRECIATE YOU.

If you ever want to give blood (and you will definitely help people who are in need of it like me) then contact the NHS blood and transplant service.