My first night Post Op.
It was early evening by the time I was ensconced back in my room, still feeling numb down to my toes. The night staff came to see me. A friendly nurse showed me the call button and encouraged me to summon help as soon as I felt the first twinges of any pain as it would be easier to manage if I was medicated quickly.
In the event by the time I noticed pain it was already too late. I don’t seem to respond well to painkillers compared to most people and before tablets could kick in I was gripped by a strong belt of pain around my lower abdomen. The nurses tried everything they could to bring the pain under control, but nothing made much difference. The most comfort came from the kind nurse holding my hand and giving my back a rub.
Unfortunately trying all the varying pain relief at their disposal included them resorting to codeine which really seems to disagree with my system. I became nauseous and vomited. It was quite scary to feel the pressure of being sick against fresh stitches. In future, if I have a procedure, I will make it clear that I cannot tolerate codeine! Lesson learned; you are not in a state immediately after your surgery to negotiate your care.
When morning arrived the doctor was back on the ward and he was able to authorise a morphine pump. At last my pain subsided. Bliss! Having intravenous morphine made all the difference and I wish I had said something before my operation as normal pain relief options have failed me before.
Day One
With the morphine pump in place I could press a button to dispense more pain relief as I needed it and I was delightfully pain free. I did spend a lot of the day drifting happily in and out of consciousness. I’d lost a complete night of sleep to the pain and I needed to rest. I have several partial memories of medical staff trying to ask me questions over the day. I felt slightly irritated by all the interruptions, I just wanted to be left alone to float on my morphine cloud!
As I wasn’t feeling at all sociable I was relieved that there wasn’t any hospital visiting. I would have tried to converse to make Steve’s two hour round trip worthwhile, but I really wasn’t up to it. I did manage a short phone call and Steve checked my energy field on the Astral plane. Steve is a Shaman. Consistent with his clients who have had surgery over the years there was corresponding damage in my aura. It seems you cannot make an incision into the physical body without creating some damage to the energy bodies. Steve repaired my aura. My sacral and base chakras had closed in self-defence, which wasn’t surprising considering where the operation site was. He re-opened the chakras and put me in some healing.
Steve also found an earthbound spirit in my hospital room which he whisked off to the Light. I hadn’t noticed it in my drugged-up state. I believe we all need to go to the Light at the end of our lives and usually there will be a loving reception waiting for us, including beloved family members or angels, ready to help us take this part of our soul’s journey. Whether it is the shock of leaving the physical body, or fear of punishment in the afterlife, some spirits don’t make that transition and stay close to the place their body died, usually feeling lost and confused. A large part of Steve’s working life is spent moving spirits over to the Light. If you ever need shamanic assistance his website is called Entity Removal.
My other memories from Day One are a lot of beeping machines. The drips seemed prone to air bubbles that needed sorting out and the nurses were concerned that my blood pressure was too low, as were my blood oxygen levels. A cheery pair of nurses came on shift and the senior nurse decided I needed careful monitoring. The junior nurse sat quietly in the corner of my room to keep an eye on me. I don’t know how long she stayed as I slept as much as I could.
Later in the day a Physiotherapist came and tried to get me out of bed. She was talking at me whilst I was floating in and out of consciousness. I was doing my best, but failing to focus on what she was saying. I think it should have been abundantly clear to her that I was not ready for her prescribed exercise, however she insisted on hoisting me up to sit on the edge of the bed with a nurse supporting me on the other side. She then asked me to stand and my legs immediately buckled and gave out from under me. They had to catch me and put me back to bed. At this point the nurse commented that the epidural had been given less than 24 hours before and clearly hadn’t completely worn off yet.
It might have been nice if the Physio had run some basic checks before expecting me to stand up. Instead, I felt like I had failed a test and she went off in a bit of a huff! I was glad that I didn’t see that particular member of staff again.
The student nurse came in to see me again later that day. She told me she’d really enjoyed watching the operation; it was her first ever time in the operating theatre so quite a milestone experience for her. She’d even been given my fibroid-filled uterus to hold. She had to ask to put it down because it was so heavy and described it as the size of a cabbage – I think she meant a white cabbage, not a great big leafy green cabbage!
Picture wise I could have treated you all to a lovely photo of my cabbage-sized uterus for this diary extract, but I decided that might be a step too far! Here is a bowl of rose quartz instead. I am looking back in my memory at the first 24 hours from a place of recovery and comfort. It is good to remember the phrase 'all things shall pass' when you are having a tough time. The intensity of that initial pain did not last and I choose to surround this memory with love and compassion.
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Note: I am sharing my personal experience of having a hysterectomy and letting you know what I found helpful or unhelpful. This is not medical advice. Please consult your medical practitioner if you have any questions or concerns about your own treatment.