Post Op Day 1: Cheeseburgers and Cranberry Juice

My biggest moment of fog was waking up in the recovery room. Everything was blurry. I’m sure it was due to the anesthesia, however, I had the added nuance that I depend on my glasses (that I didn’t have on) to see clearly. I can recall a nurse bringing my parents over and me asking for a cheeseburger and cranberry juice – neither of which were part of my normal diet. I don’t recall being in any pain in that moment, and I don’t know how long I was there. What I remember next is a male nurse rolling me from recovery on to my hospital room then removing the urinary catheter shortly after. At some point, I was also given a nasal cannula.

My pain relief was provided via a patient-controlled analgesia pump, which I used as infrequently as possible. With my background in pharmacy, my initial reluctance to use the pump was largely due to my fear of becoming addicted to opioids. In no way was I trying to be a super woman. Please believe I learned to use it when needed!

The first time I got out of bed was the next morning - to use the restroom. Slow and steady. The mere anticipation of the pain associated with standing straight up along with trying to maneuver while connected to IVs was a bit much, but I did it. I also actually didn’t have much of a choice. Dr. Hall had previously told me that she wanted me up and moving, as soon as possible, after surgery. The urgency of needing to move around after surgery was: 1- to increase blood flow and prevent blood clots & 2- to promote proper healing of the incision site.

HOWEVER, I was NOT warned about what to expect with that first urination. The best way I can describe it is I felt as though I could feel the entire journey my urine took to exit my body. It felt like the sound of fingernails scraping a chalkboard. I even shivered from the physical shock of it. That feeling created quite a bit of anxiety, with every trip to the restroom, until it eventually went away a few days later.

Continuing on, I was immediately overcome with nausea as I rose from the toilet. I sat back down and loudly proclaimed that I needed to throw up. My boyfriend tried to convince me otherwise and that I just needed to relax. I repeated that I needed to throw up, this time with a bit more urgency and frustration. He handed me the trash can and I proceeded to vomit the contents of that morning’s breakfast. After that, he quickly paged a nurse who immediately came in to check on me and helped to guide me back to the bed. The retching from vomiting also caused more pain at my incision site, which I still didn’t have the gall to check out for myself. I literally couldn’t bring myself to look at where I’d been cut.

My parents, who had previously left to get some rest came back and switched shifts with my boyfriend. After my vomiting episode, I agreed with my nurse that it was best that I pivot to a predominantly liquid diet. I ate soup and satisfied my thirst with cranberry juice. That’s literally all I wanted to drink. I never did get that cheeseburger. Lol I honestly, don’t even know where that craving came from because I lost interest in it VERY quickly.