Change of Venue

Saturday morning, I woke early. I lay there, waiting. But I wasn't expecting anything soon. I wish I could have slept in, because I knew I wouldn't get to leave until around mid day, but I guess the excitement got to me.

My breakfast was still full liquids. Blended oatmeal and stuff. I skipped the yogurt again.

My vital signs were fine, but my BP was creeping up a little. I had been restarted on my ACE inhibitor on Friday, I think. The nurse came in and talked about my discharge, but she said there were no orders for it yet. She said she didn't know when the doctor would be coming. So I waited.

I got up to the chair for a few minutes a couple of times. I didn't need the bathroom. I noticed that, but didn't think anything of it.

Liz came just before noon, and the doctor still hadn't come by. It was getting hard to be patient. Liz tried to help by reading to me some more.

Just about noon, the doctor came. He was from Dr. Paddy's group. He checked me over a little, listening to my tummy and looking at the incisions. He said he thought I was ready to go. He told me to call for an appointment to have my staples removed a week from Monday, and said I shouldn't lift more than 10 pounds. Then he left to look over the orders from Dr. Singh, written the day before.

I had to wait a bit more, because Dr. Lindsey had to read over the discharge orders, and sign off on them, and then the nurse had to look them over and prepare my discharge instructions.

Finally, around 1 the nurse came in with a few pages of instructions. We discussed my diet, because the instructions say to stay on the diet you had at discharge, which was still full liquids. The nurse suggested I advance to a regular diet as tolerated. She told me to use a pillow to splint my tummy, and to try to keep increasing my activity. She told me what to expect, and when to call the doctor. It all seemed simple and straightforward. I was going home.

Liz had brought some clothes. She brought my bathrobe, some scrub pants, a t-shirt, and a pair of slippers. The scrub pants, normally quite loose on my, just barely fit around my belly. The t-shirt was okay, but also seemed a little snug. I was happy about the slippers. Bending all the way over to tie shoes would have hurt.

The nurse took me down in a wheel chair, and we waited at the curb while Liz got the car. Getting into the car took some effort, and hurt, but I settled in. Liz had the seat reclined, which meant I had to lean back. I couldn't really lean sideways and then lift my feet, as I did getting in and out of bed. But once I was settled, it was comfortable.

Liz drove home as carefully as she could. I did feel some bumps. We got home about an hour before my next Percocet was due. I began to worry about that, even before I got into the house.

Climbing out of the car was easier than getting in. I could use my arms to pull better. I walked slowly into the house. Sharon was all smiles as I shuffled through the kitchen. Nala barked once in greeting, and wagged her tail.

Liz had put blankets and pillows on the couch, set up so I would be at the end that let me see the TV. I settled on the couch, covered myself with a blanket, and pressed a pillow to my tummy. Compared to the hospital bed, this was heaven.

By then, though, I had to pee. I found, after I got home, that I had to pee about every two hours, even through the night for the first couple of days. That first trip down the hall to the bathroom reminded me that I was still in the early stage of recovery from the operation. I set the pillow down, and lowered myself carefully to sit on the toilet, then picked up the pillow and pressed it too my tummy again. Peeing had become entirely passive; I would think about relaxing and letting it go, but didn't try to increase abdominal pressure. It was working fairly well, but it did take a little time.

When I got back to the couch, I was tired, and ready to try to nap.

Liz went to the pharmacy to get my pain meds. She got back half an hour before the pill was due. I was glad. I was beginning to feel the pain return.

After I took the Percocet, I picked up my book. I found it easy to read, then. I read two hundred pages before the end of that day. I pretty much read for the rest of the day, stopping briefly to eat a meal brought to me on the couch. Liz had to go the Pleasure with Payne that evening. Sharon stayed home with me. I just read, except for those regular trips to the bathroom.

It was good to be home, but I was still weak, slow, and absolutely dependent on the Percocet. I was worried about eating too much or the wrong food. I didn't try any salad. I ate cooked veggies and pasta. Real food, with real flavor, and it went down fine. It was very good to be home.