Back in blogland..

Phew, I'm back in blogland at long last. Even though I consider myself a bit of a surgery veteran (after C Sections and appendectomy), I still wasn't prepared for the shock of walking in super fit and returning as weak as a kitten. The breast surgery was a piece of cake but the abdominal surgery is a different story.

Here's my story:
Day One: Required to fast 6 hours pre surgery - decided to be very sparse with the oats (which was not such a great idea as my surgery got delayed by 3-4 hours). If you know how much I enjoy eating, you know how hungry I would have been by then! A long period of waiting and feeling nervous - met the anaethestist (sp?) who was a bit of a groover, got put to sleep and woke up four hours later in recovery with a pain pump full of fentanyl and being told by the recovery nurses to push the button for the pain. After hearing a lot of advice from others who have had the surgery done to really utilize the pain relief, I went for it. Unfortunately, I started throwing up everywhere and went on a 24 hour drug trip, so I voluntarily ceased it. After my fentanyl experience, I can't understand how some drug addicts find pleasure in a drug trip. I was continually stressing about making my RPM HiPerformance class, writing a novel and other weird goings on.

Day Two: Still so nauseated I could not eat anything. I celebrated with DH by knocking off a Milk Coffee biscuit for breakfast and lunch. I can't see anything, I am firmly wrapped up in a compression garment but look down at my chest and think, "wow".

Day Three: Feeling much better and as my implants were placed over the muscle, think that I can readjust my pillows and become more independent. Try a different narcotic which works much better. Turns out that all the moving around is causing the drains that have been inserted in my breasts and tummy to start producing more fluid than they should. Have strict instructions from the doc to start acting like a chicken and to keep my wings in.

Day Four: Constipated...ugh. Had to be the worst day of my life and had to bring in the troops ie enema to help. The student nurse that gave me the enema was luckily very patient and understanding and once things had improved, had got on to talking about personal training. She expressed interest in becoming a client.

Day Five: Feeling better and ready to go home. Doc thinks otherwise. Tells me to keep the marathon running to my mind only. Swing out of bed, feeling a difference in my abs - a lot more supported with them stitched up the middle.

Day Six: Still not cleared to go home. I am cheered up by a visit from Shannon and John and Deb E from Fitness First. I had been feeling so frustrated and it really made my day.

Day Seven: Finally get three of the four drains removed and get ready to go home. I get a peek of the girls for the first time. Panic that they look massive! Think this is going to take some getting used to . In reality, I'm not quite filling out the post operative 12 c bra, why do I feel so...uh..big? I'm not used to being a girly girl. Finally get the dressings removed from belly. It's rather swollen and angry, but there is not a stitch of loose skin, nary a stretch mark to be seen. It looks incredible.

I am sent home in a new compression garment with strict instructions to rest and then to shower the next day.

Day Eight: (yesterday). DH and I cannot get the garment off by ourselves so we are off to the surgeon to have him and his nurse remove it. This was something I hadn't been expecting. Wish me luck getting the sucker off.

It's great to be home and to catch up with the online world. I am looking forward to being able to move more freely and each day is a step in the right direction. The best part is that I feel like in the passage of time, I will come back really strong with my training. I know that I will probably become out of shape over the next few months, but I can focus on eating well and being sensible for a perfect recovery.

Thanks for everyone's well wishes - I really appreciate them!

I really enjoyed everyone's six word memoirs..

"I'm becoming a million dollar baby"