Surgery aftermath.

Had a Cesarean? Hysterectomy? Hernia? Breast augmentation?
You can talk about those if you want. People have them. People aren't usually disgusted by the idea of those surgeries. Move to the posterior section of your body, though, and what happens?
Plug your ears!
Run away!
Avert your eyes!
Dry-heaving is heard!
Don't say a word!

Had a hemorrhoidectomy?
Forget it.
You have no bragging rights.
Hemorrhoid. People are grossed out by the word, and no one wants to admit they've had one, let alone surgery to repair it.

I (vaguely) remember a time before children. A time when I was perfectly unscathed, especially down south. I think that even though I have relatively minimal stretchmarks, I have plenty of other battle scars to prove my physical sacrifice of bearing offspring. I've mentioned them before.
My nose.
My tummy.
My ankle.
But by far the worst is my hind end.
I think that immediately after giving birth to your first child, where you've pushed something the size of a watermelon out of something the size of a lemon, every girl wonders if she'll ever look the same down south again. It's a horrifying transformation immediately postpartum, but luckily, things snap back to shape relatively quickly. Usually.

Sometimes you're thrown a curve ball. I, possessing an abnormally large quantity of the Johnson Jinx, was thrown that curve ball in a big way. (Did I mention that within a week of giving birth and suffering from the butt plague, Paisli had the bloody poo scare, I got a breast infection, and I've been battling a cold with lots of congestion? I'm jinxed for sure.)

Have you seen how a person who loses 300 pounds or more is left with sagging, flappy skin that requires surgical removal in order to look normal again? That's kind of how a massive hemorrhoid leaves you after the swelling subsides. What are your options? Live with the unsightly, embarrassing discomfort that inflames frequently...or have surgery. It's an ugly reality that some of us unfortunate ones are faced with.

(I love you, my children, even though you did this to me. I may hold it against you forever, but I love you nonetheless. And you each were worth every second of the agony you gave me. But come on, I wanted a normal life again.)

I chose surgery.

Because I didn't hear about anyone's hemorrhoidectomy until after my own (thanks for popping out of the woodwork AFTER the fact, fellow sufferers), I think I owe it to the women of the world, and men, to chronicle my experience with the surgery and recovery to help people be more informed so that if they're faced with this horrid twist of fate, they might know whether or not it's worth it for them to go through this surgical journey, like I did.

Friday 2/27: No turning back now.
Surgery day.
Did I mention I'm glad they invented narcotics?
Worst dry-mouth ever!

I couldn't pee for 8 hours after surgery. The nurses had to empty my bladder with a catheter since I couldn't release it on my own no matter what we tried. I went home at 8 pm since that's when the short stay nurses go home. I almost choked when I ate since I had no saliva. When I got home and inspected the damage, I noticed that it looked like I still had a bit of hemorrhoid left, but I'm hoping that's not the case and that it's just part of the swelling.

Saturday 2/28: I'm sleepy. So sleepy.
Sore.

Bruised. ("Black hole" has a new meaning.)

Sleepy. 

Thank heavens for vicodin.  I recovered at home with Hyrum and Paisli while everyone else played in Bandon. Hyrum's mom left. I had tons of help with Hyrum's sisters.

Sunday 3/1: Touch me and die!

Oh the discomfort!

Can't move.

Can't cough.

Don't touch me.

Stay away.

Stay far away.

I'm recovering okay, but still feeling pretty bad. I'm battling a cough and congestion which kills my hind end every time I cough. I feel like the pressure of the cough is going to send my butt rocketing off my back side. I know I can stand to lose a few pounds, but I don't want pancake butt! Did you know that almost every move you make affects your derriere? Even just lifting my head off the pillow creates pain.

Monday 3/2: Danger looms on the horizon.
Plugged.

Stopped up.

Bloated.

Worried.

I'm getting worried since I haven't had a "BM" yet (as the nurse calls it), and the doctor's office said if I don't have one soon, I'll have to take the nasty stuff I took before the surgery that about made me puke. I was informed that the other guy who had the surgery the same day has had 2, so I better get on the "move".  I've been eating a ton of fiber, but maybe that's just aggravating the problem. 

Tuesday 3/3: Better off dead!

Horrific pain!

Tears.

Panic. 

Screams. 

Shaking. 

Sitz baths. 

Pleading. 

Prayers. 

Gas pains.

Sleep. 

Vicodin.

I was up from 3 am this morning until 1 am the next, every few hours having "BM's" or threats of them.  I literally experienced pain pretty much identical to childbirth...8 times in less than 24 hours! I feel like I've given birth 12 times in my life now, 8 of the times in one day. I don't think I want to have any more children. The pain is too severe to go through so often and still have a desire to experience it even one more time on purpose.  Oh, the gas! It can't escape, but as it attempts to, it burns me like fire. It wakes me up with a gasp of pain out of a dead sleep. Since I have the pain tolerance of a gnat, I'm having a hard time coping with the pain. I can't talk about it without bursting out in tears. One of the hemorrhoids came back again with a vengeance. Because of this, I don't think the surgery was worth it. DO NOT do this to yourself!

Elisabeth left today. That makes me want to cry. She's been the BEST help in the world and she loves my kids, and I don't have to worry for a second with her in charge of the kids and my house. Maren also left. She's like my right arm now, so I miss her.

Wednesday 3/4: The calm after the storm.

Peace.

Sleep.

No gas.

No poo.

Relief.

Grateful.

No poop today, so I feel much better. I made it down to the house to check out the new plumbing and the walls Hyrum built last week. Maybe things will be better now. I did some laundry. I found my foam donut in storage just in case I can ever sit again. I attempted to sit today, but I can't. It stings.

Thursday 3/5: Rotorooter, where are you?

Doctor visit.

Bloating.

Embarrassment.

More gas! Drat!

Ohhhh, I'm feeling very plugged! I visited the doctor. When we arrived, the doctor was dead asleep in his office with the door open for us to watch him...pretty funny. He shrugged off my hemorrhoid that reoccurred as post-surgery swelling. We'll just see!  Hyrum had to go to the drugstore for me afterward to pick up reinforcements: FiberCon laxatives, Milk of Magnesia, and glycerin suppositories. He said it's pretty embarrassing to go up to the check-out counter with 3 laxatives, but I told him they shouldn't be surprised to see him since he's been there to pick up prescriptions for Norco, Vicodin, suppositories for swelling, foams and creams for hemorrhoids, ibuprofen, stool softeners, etc. I'm terrified to poo! A sitz bath and suppositories helped to make it not feel like childbirth. Did I mention that suppositories feel like shards of glass when they're being pushed up an injured hind end?

Friday 3/6: Take a seat!

Surprised. 

Hopeful.

This is the first day I can actually sit on the toilet. I can sit on a chair for a few minutes if I sit CAREFULLY on my foam donut cushion. I'm able to get up and do some things around the house, but I end up back in bed frequently. I've been living in a T-shirt and panties (no pants) since I live in bed. I'm still bleeding from childbirth, and now have weeping from surgery, so I have to lie on one of those blue hospital pads. Pants are worthless because I bleed on them when I lie down.

Saturday 3/7: May the stings of 1000 honeybees infest your buttocks!

Stings.

Tears.

Sobs.

Frustration.

Scalding hot baths.

My sitting privileges were revoked. I can't sit comfortably anymore. I randomly get attacked, without warning, by stinging sensations that feel like my injury is being lit on fire or stung by bees. When will the pain be over? The first part of the day, I felt okay, then the middle half I spent sobbing in the shower. I had more shards of glass (suppositories) shoved up my rear which about sent me into hysterics. The last half of the day was almost bearable. I know for a fact that Hyrum could be an amazing nurse. He has to stay in the bathroom with me while I attempt to poo so that he can fill my peri-bottles (the plastic bottle the hospital gives you to use after childbirth) with hot water so I can numb myself while on the toilet, otherwise the stinging is unbearable. He gives me suppositories. He holds me while I sob. He doctors my injury. He is unflinching in his devotion to helping me in any way he can. Nothing is too gross or too scary to him, so he'll do anything I ask him. Have I mentioned I'm married to the most devoted, supportive, loving, considerate, nurturing man in the universe? A girl couldn't ask for more. I ended the day feeling as though another breast infection was starting. Just what I need! Jinx!

Sunday 3/8: Burning in my bosom?

Shocks of pain.

Stinging.

Some relief.

Breast infection#2 hit full swing. You know you have one when it sends shocks of pain as the baby nurses, and no matter how much the baby eats, you seem to get fuller and harder. Maren gave me the tip with my last clogged duct to get in a scalding hot shower and unclog the duct in the way  you would pop a zit, then squeeze as hard as you can to express the milk. It works! The milk from the clogged duct sprays like a fountain...twice as much as the other ducts spray, and that's how you know you got the right duct unclogged. It worked for me last week and it worked again today. 

The bees stung my rear again in a surprise attack. Thank goodness for lidocaine and a kind husband with a day off! I can sit again. Hurray!