MushBellyBlog

I have had a few people ask me to chronicle the first week after my tummy tuck. Here you go. This is going to be long.

Tummy Tuck - Week One:


Day 1 - arrive at hospital at 6:30am. Nurse comes in, gives me a gown, starts an iv, puts on cute little compression socks that go to my knees. Dr Cheng comes in and draws on my belly with a purple marker. Anesthesiologist comes in. Great guy - puts me at ease immediately. They wheel me into the OR room where I meet Dr Todd, the surgeon who will be correcting my hernias. I am given drugs through a mask and I slip into sleep (this is my favorite part).

I wake up 5 hours later in the recovery room. A nurse is to my left. Discussing with another nurse what room the patient is to go in. The patient - me. They are talking about me. They are arguing with each other about where to put me. I decide to go back to sleep until they get it sorted.

I begin rolling down the hall, towards my room, I assume. I have no pain and am enjoying my ride to the room. I see my husband. He looks cute, but not worried. Shouldn't he be just a little worried? Once in my room, I take a dose of morphine in my IV and sleep for awhile. Still no pain.

Its about 5pm. We are in my room. Jacob leaves the hospital to get me a special wedge pillow, and to get himself a cheeseburger. (I'm guessing about the cheeseburger, but Id bet $100 on it) The pain starts to get pretty bad while he is gone. The nurses are being slow about giving me my drugs. I hate not having control. I pretty much lie in bed and watch TV and try to sleep. The drugs are not lasting very long and the nurses are always late with the new dose, so I ask that the morphine be delivered through a pain pump that I control. It takes them about an hour to set this up, and as soon as they leave, I immediately start pushing the button. It will only inject me once every 10 minutes, no more than 6 times per hour. I pushed that baby every 10 minutes for the next 12 hours. I was still hurting, but was much better than waiting for the nurse to bring me the drugs.

Day 2 - at 4am the nurse comes to remove my morphine pump and my catheter. Now I have to get out of bed to pee. I am now on percoset for pain, and it works much better than the morphine, lasts longer - but nurses are still not bring me my dose's on time. I decide I need to try to get up and use the potty. I call in the nurse. She comes and brings along a CNA. I slowly sit up and dangle my feet over the edge off the bed for a minute. Not dizzy. Feeling good. Slowly stand, grab my IV pole with one hand, and the nurse's elbow with the other. I am bent over at about a 90 degree angle. I shuffle my way into the bathroom. Sitting down is not as bad as I would have thought. Standing back up is not as bad as I would have thought. As I head back to my bed I start to wonder how I am going to get back into bed without killing myself, or at the very least, causing much pain and trauma. I turned around and sat down at the edge of the bed. I tried to put my bottom down as far back on the bed as it could go. I lifted my legs up to the nurse's hands and asked that she put them slowly down onto the bed for me, while I slowly lowered the top half of my body onto the bed. I kept up my end of the deal, but somehow, the nurse dropped my legs. I was laying with the top 1/2 of my body on the bed, and my feet touching the ground. If you have ever had a tummy tuck, you know that this was excruciating. I lay there screaming and crying until someone (the nurse or my husband, I don't know which one) picked my legs up for me and laid them gently on the bed. I was traumatized. I was in pain. I laid there and cried while Jacob wiped tears from my face. I tried to cry gently....sobbing was way too painful. I calmed down after a bit, took some percoset and went to sleep. A few hours later I needed to pee again. I was so scared. I called in the nurse, and was pleased to see that it was not the same nurse as before. I got out of bed, peed, and got back into bed with no problems. This nurse new exactly what I needed to do, and exactly how she needed to help me, in order for me to get back in bed without pain. I love that nurse.

Day 3: Drugs are still not coming on time. The nurse's are 1/2 to 1 hour late each time. I don't know if they are stalling to try to get me to take less drugs or what. We decide we are leaving, even though I have been written up to stay for one more night. I want to leave. MY bff, Teresa, and my husband are there. They pack up my stuff and wheel me out to Teresa's car. Teresa drives me home to her house where I'll be staying. Jacob takes my RX's to get them filled. Teresa's house is all ready for me. Nice big bed, clean sheets, fresh flowers, lots of pillows, even a seat riser on the toilet! I get myself situated in her comfy bed and fall asleep. Jacob arrives with my drugs. I lay in bed and sleep / watch TV for the night. I have to get up and use the bathroom about every 2 hours. Jacob goes home to sleep in his own bed at around 10pm. I wake Teresa up every 2 hours through the night. I need her to help me get out of bed, to the bathroom, and back in bed. I need her to give me my medication. I need her to give me food to eat with my medication. I need her to keep track of how much medication I've had and when I'm due for my next dose. I need her to check my drains, empty them, measure the liquid that comes out of them and write it down for me. I need her to help me give myself a heparin shot. Poor Teresa, did not get much sleep that night. Sorry Teresa! But, you were the best.

Day 4: Still at Teresa's house. Spend all day in her bed. She makes me delicious chicken and potatoes and I eat it! I am now able to get out of bed and to the bathroom all my myself. Feeling like such a big girl. Teresa tries hold back laughter while I try not to cough after choking on my water. I tell her "Teresa DON'T!" Meaning, don't you DARE laugh at me, this is PAINFUL! I can laugh about it now (I can also cough now). I sleep better at night, and I don't wake Teresa up once for help to the bathroom. Teresa is grateful.

Day 5: Teresa takes me to my mom's house. My girls are there - have been there for 4 days. I miss them terribly. I get comfy in my bed at my mom's house, and my girls come snuggle up with me. I spend the day sleeping, watching TV, playing the gameboy and snuggling with my girls. I am moving around so well. I am emptying my own drains, giving myself my heparin shot, and dosing my own percoset. What a girl.

Day 6: My brother takes me to my first post-op appointment, where I get one of my drains removed. YAY! It was painful, but it only lasted a few seconds. My Dr. tells me that I am recovering better than her patients typically do. Yay!

Day 7: Swollen, loving my percoset, getting ready to go home tomorrow where my husband and girls will take care of me. My mom has been making delicious meals every day and taking good care of my girls so I can rest.

Day 8: Home! I missed this place. Jacob gets me settled and then goes to the grocery store. He buys milk, yogurt, fiber one cereal, and Hamburger Helper. He comes home and makes dinner, probably the third time this has happened since we were married 7 years ago. He makes a mean Hamburger Helper Cheesey Mac.

So - that was the first week. The only day that I questioned my sanity in doing this was the first day home from the hospital. The pain was bad that day, and I couldn't move without wanting to cry. Today is day 12. I had my last drain removed yesterday. I screamed. I SCREAMED. It hurt like hell, but was over in about 10 seconds. I also got the stitches from my belly button removed yesterday. My tummy is swollen, but still looking much sexier than pre-surgery. Jacob is back to work today and I am alone with my girls for the first time since the surgery. I am off narcotics for the most part. Mostly just taking 800 mg ibuprofin every 4 hours. This has been difficult, but oh, so worth it.