Surgical recovery reality

When my "it's a simple procedure" outpatient surgery was scheduled, I assumed it'd be a simple recovery.

A few minutes post-surgery.

I know, I know. Assuming is a good way to get into trouble.

In my defense, Hubby doesn't like it when I Google my ailments. He has a point. The more knowledge I collect, the more anxiety I'm able to conjure. So I resisted the urge to conduct online research.

Also, I didn't get a lot of solid information on what to expect once they sent me home. My providers debriefed me on everything from causes and symptoms to where the incision would be made and how well IV sedation would work.

No one mentioned how long recovery would take or what to physically expect. Then again, I didn't ask.

My surgery was planned for a Wednesday. I took off the rest of the week. Honestly, I felt a little guilty for requesting three whole days of sick leave. It was, after all, going to be a "simple procedure."

As my surgery date grew closer, I excitedly began planning activities for my recovery period. There were movies I wanted to watch, like "Aviator" and others that are way too long to watch on a weeknight when you have to get up at the crack of dawn the next day.

I was going to write. I'd knock out a few chapters of a book. I'm currently writing a middle grades chapter book in 15-20-minute increments before and after work and between activities on weekends. Thanks to my simple procedure, I'd have several days during which I could write to my hearts content.

My plants were going to get lots of attention, as well. I'd recently bought two purple passion angel plants — one for work, one for my fairy room — that needed to be potted. I've also got begonia clippings rooting in cups.

The surgery went terrifically well. No complications. Excellent vitals. I was home by lunchtime. 

Hubby kept the ibuprofen and acetaminophen coming and I took a nice long afternoon nap. 

The next day, I felt great. When Hubby offered pain meds, I declined. I was getting my own food, filling my own water bottle, and enjoying life. When the surgery center called to see how I was doing, I reported that I was doing extremely well. I may have giggled a bit during the conversation.

Other than that call and feeling confident about getting back to work by Monday morning, I don't remember much from that day. 

On Friday, I woke up and immediately cried out for ibuprofen. Also, it was time to remove the motion sickness patch. 

It might be worth mentioning here that the surgery was on my ear. That particular ear was stitched up and packed with what I can only describe as a tampon. And to think, I assumed I was done with tampons back when my uterus was removed. When will I ever learn?

One of my newly potted
purple passion angel plants.

Hubby helped me pot my purple passion angel plants. My shaky hands spattered potting soil everywhere. The hour I spent on that 15-minute job wore me slam out. 

I've been on a cruise ship ever since, unable to stay steady whilst walking through the house back and forth to the bathroom. Thanks to a medicine that reduces saliva production and a facial nerve that was temporarily disturbed, I've been drinking a couple of gallons of water a day.

I did not make it back to work on Monday. And Hubby must drive me to and from work for at least a week.

In hindsight, I asked the wrong questions. If I ever have to go under the knife again, I will ask detailed questions about the recovery time as well as what to expect once the hospital drugs wear off.

I will also assume I need a solid week or more with no activities planned other than "get well" — like what all the cards and social media sentiments said. 

Meanwhile, now that I'm relatively adjusted to the foam packing in my ear — or is it gauze? — Hubby noted that when they take it out during my follow-up appointment, my equilibrium will be thrown off again. I'll have to re-adjust. Again. 

Note to self: No potting plants that week.

"Simple procedure" is a relative term. It wasn't a highly invasive, six-hour-long surgery that required a hospital stay and physical therapy during recovery. Therefore, for the surgical team, it was simple.

But it was surgery. Any way you slice it, surgery is traumatic to the body. And when it's the ear, recovery is a dizzying, weeks-long adventure. 

That said, I'm quite thankful for the miracle of modern medicine, the skilled hands of my surgeon and the amazing staff at the hospital. 

The teddy bear Hubby handed me in the recovery room was pretty awesome, too.

Michele "Micki" Bare, mother of three, wife, daughter & marketing director is the author of Thurston T. Turtle children's books and an aspiring novelist. 

Email: mickibare (at) gmail.com

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Copyright 2018 Michele Bare