On Monday Ryan and I got ready for my first venture out of the house. I had to go back to the hospital to get my drains removed. You kind of saw them in the brief picture I posted. They were little bulbs that hung down near my waist from long, clear tubing that went into my chest on either side. The drains had to be pinned to my shorts or tucked into my pockets of zip up hoodies from the moment I left the hospital.
They sucked and were more painful at times than my inscisions and stitches.
Twice a day Ryan diligently emptied them into measured cups given to us by the hospital and he recorded how much fluid came out on each side. God bless my husband. I couldn't even watch when he did it. Or look at the actual place the tubing went in to me. Luckily I could not see them unless I tuned sideways in a mirror. I never did.
It is my first time out of the house since returning from the hospital on Thursday and it is pouring rain. Tornado warnings. Windy. At least it was semi-warm. But we went out into the rain and journeyed back to the hospital.
We didn't bother to try the parking garage and opted for valet. We made our way inside and found the clinic and got up into the original office where I had my consultation. I was tired, but I stopped taking my percocet the night before in effort to ween myself off the pain killers. Mistake One.
The nurse comes in and changed my sterile tape over my stitches. Looking at them freaked me out quite a bit, but it wasn't too bad. After I get cleaned up she tells me my drains are coming out. I ask if they are going to give me a shot or something or just go for it.
We're just going for it.
Of course I had my percocet in my purse but it would take forty mintues to be any good so I didn't bother.
So Ryan takes my hand and the woman tells me to breath slowly and deeply to keep my muscles relaxed. I squeeze the hell out of my husband's hand and keep my chest relaxed. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth and the nurse counts to three. One... two... three.
Worst pain I have ever felt in my life. No dramatics. Honest truth.
Apparently there was still a clear suture holding the tube inside me still that the nurse was unaware of. I had to bite down hard to stop from screaming. Bless my husband for holding my hand, talking to me, kissing my forehead, everything calming and helpful. He only told me much later that the tube was about a foot and a half long inside me. Ugh. The second side hurt too but nothing like the first, she knew to look for the suture.
Honestly so glad that is done. I had to lie there for awhile before I could make myself move again. Then it was back out into the rain and waiting for the car. We went to grab lunch and I was pretty tired and sick to my stomach so it wasn't too great. I went home and just laid down the rest of the night.
I'll write about everything else later. This story just had to go out first for my own insane reasons. But I will say I am much more comfortable without the drains and can move so much easier. I didn't realize how in the way they were until I was gone. I am healing. Still sore and pretty sick to my stomach, but healing.