The Surgery

I went in to surgery on Feburary 15, 2012. Although I didn't want to do it, I knew that the issues with my spleen would only get worse. So I showed up, checked in, got into the hospital garb and got poked to death with needles. My husband and I shot the breeze while waiting for me to be wheeled into surgery. 

Finally it was time.

I was taken down to the surgical floor and the first thing I noticed was it was freezing! I started to panic because I truly did not want to go through another surgery. It wasn't until they transferred to to the surgical table and strapped my legs down that I wanted to bolt. I think the surgical team must have realized how freaked out I was ( I really think my tears gave me away) and they sedated me. 

Next thing I know I'm waking up in recovery.

I have no idea what they were giving me while I was in recovery, but I felt no pain. It wasn't until I was wheeled to my room that I realized just how much I was hurting. 

I hated myself for going through with the surgery. I felt that the pain I was experiencing with my spleen was nothing compared to how I was feeling at the time. Then I realized I had like 10,000 holes in my body from IVs and a giant one stitched into my neck! I was so uncomfortable and could barely talk or move. I remember my family being there visiting and my son. Most of that first day is blurry besides the pain. 

I was in the hospital for several days and truly all I can remember is the pain. I also remember the nurses pushing me to get up and out of the bed and not fully understanding that I was in so much pain that I could barely move. The surgeon came in and explained that he had to cut through several layers of muscle in different areas of my abdomen. He also told my my spleen was so large they had to cut it apart inside of my body before they could remove it in pieces.

The only GOOD thing that came out of the first few days in the hospital was that my surgeon had a specialist with him from the Mayo Clinic. I used this opportunity to tell him that their website should be updated to include Sickle C and it's effects, such as an enlarged spleen, and other special considerations that apply particularly to this disease. Whether he passed that information on, I do not know. But I feel I have to try and get the word out some how, even if it's reliving sad and painful moments of my life.

I was pushed to walk the halls and had my catheter removed. I complained about how I couldn't breathe but I was not taken seriously. I was pushed to get off of morphine, even though I was in so much pain. I believe I was in the hospital for 4 or 5 days before I was released. I could walk although slowly, very slowly, but I still couldn't breathe. I was sent home on oxygen that I'd have to wear 24/7 until my oxygen rate improved.

Unfortunately, my breathing got worse and I went back to the hospital because I couldn't breathe without having sharp pains in my chest. At the emergency room they did an EKG and decided I wasn't having a heart attack. I had x-rays and a cat scan and labs drawn. They finally determined that I had pneumonia. Now this is the second time in 2 months that I have had pneumonia and this time was even more worrisome because I just had my body's first line of defense taken out. I was put on an array of antibiotics and stuck in the hospital for over a week.

I hated it. I officially hate the hospital. I view it as a source of loneliness and pain. Eventually they came to me and told me I had contracted something else and it pissed me off so bad. I was enraged and quarantined. Things went downhill from there as far as my attitude was concerned. I became less compliant and complained more. I questioned the tests they wanted to perform and who came into my room. I demanded to speak to people in administration.

They finally let me go with the expectation of me taking more antibiotics at home. I had absolutely no appetite, food didn't even taste the same for a long time afterward. I didn't even care that I was discharged and transportation didn't take me down to the car. I did it myself. I would have ran out of there if I could have breathed easier.

I thought that having my spleen removed would be an instant fix. Yet here it is, the beginning of June and I still have pain at the site of the incisions from the surgery. I may not have pain from my spleen anymore, but it seems that it was a trade off for a different type of pain. It also took a long time for me to recover from this surgery; longer than I had anticipated.

I find that there is always something that goes wrong in the hospital. I often left more sick than when I first went it. I have been neglected and mistreated and ultimately had to speak up for myself in order to get things done properly. So naturally my goal is to never go back. So far, so good.