Holly’s Surgery Journey Day 6 & 7

Day 6 – Slow and steady

Today was not bad, not bad at all. Although, I think this may have been in part due to the fact that I mistakenly took a sleeping pill when I woke around 8:30 am. Back to dreamland I went and didn’t stir until nearly noon. 

Each time I wake,  I reassess myself.  I twist my ankles, then bend them. I raise my lower legs, then bend them, trying to determine the level of mobility and whether the swelling has increased. I have heard a great deal about the dreaded “swell hell” and I am praying I pass through it before I travel the long journey back.

However,  in that moment this morning, all I could think about was the short journey to the bathroom. It still requires an inner debate with myself,  urging me forward.  And each time, I still lose my breath momentarily when I stand. I never imagined standing in front of the mirror and saying,  “No, the teeth can wait.”

When I rose from the bed, I noticed much fewer spots of blood on the pads beneath me. I have been exceedingly diligent in protecting the bedding,  as witnessed by the many layers I dragged across the ocean. I replace the pads a few times a day, but today was happily much less. 

Around noon, Traci headed out to pick us up some wonderful light potatoes to go with the omelet she prepared and I ate a bit. I am still shocked by how little I can eat in one sitting.  I do my best but I seem full after just a few bites. I have no idea how long it will last and it is not something I have experienced before. 

One thing that continued to bother me was that I had yet to poop. I knew at some point this would become an issue and cause me pain, and I had been trying to offset it by taking a laxative for the last two days. This afternoon,  however,  I decided that I had to step it up. At home, coffee tends to make me go so Traci fixed me a cup of Java that I had brought along. And sure enough, shortly thereafter Traci watched as I left the bathroom wearing the smug look of success. 

I continued to doze in and out of sleep until Ifi arrived for lymphatic drainage around 5pm. She wasted no time getting me out of my flat knit compression and asking me how I had found them compared to the Lipoelastic I had been in. I said, I actually felt better since the waist was higher and these were made custom for me. It was just the pulling up and down that was the tough part. There were a few spots of blood on them and we discussed which ones I would wear at the end of the session. The idea of getting back into any was once again an unnecessary evil I would have to face, but I decided on my flat knit Bauerfeind pair.

The manual lymphatic drainage session though was much easier than the previous ones. I believe I yelled out just a couple of times with the hardness in my calves. We chatted a lot during the session and I was able to do so,  to be engaged. The mood was different for both of us. I had begun to truly heal.

She did tell me I needed to move more and Traci promised to get me out into the hallway for a few rounds. I think of the hallway as one in a horror movie since it has automatic timers that turn on and off after you pass each section. It’s chilly, there are no windows, and you end in darkness.  Not the most enticing but I agreed nonetheless.  

Ifi left and I snoozed again as Traci disappeared to get us some chicken for supper and we binged a little Netflix.  I say binged,  but two half hour shows are about the most I can do before dozing off again. 

I still seem to be operating on Canadian time as I am most alert in the evening.  Traci and I reminisced, vented, laughed, and gossiped as she cajoled me twice into the Hallway of Horror, each time pushing me to take a couple of stairs. I made her promise to give me a treat as a reward, which she did.

So, things are looking up, people! They truly are. This is doable.  I am doing it. And if you need to, you will be able to as well.

I am hoping to have a little visit tomorrow…so stay tuned! XoXo 

Day 7 – Swell hell and a sweet visit

I woke this morning feeling thicker and more swollen than ever. I clumsily rolled my enlarged legs to the side and basically toppled off the bed, making my way to the bathroom.  It felt as everything had stiffened up during the night, and, after peeing, I hobbled once more back to my bed. 

I tried the usual ankle movements and leg lifts, with little relief.  I really wanted to be more mobile today, not less, as I had two things to accomplish. I was meant to meet in person a surgery buddy who had been chatting with me over the past months, and I was also going to attempt a shower on my own. In that moment,  neither were looking good.

I rested a little longer and decided to fortify my iron with a bowl of Cornflakes.  Traci had told me that it can make up 57 percent for the day, and I was ready for an additional boost. Hoping to suddenly feel like a kid in a superhero outfit, I returned from bringing back my empty bowl with slumped shoulders of disappointment.  

Rachel and I intended to meet halfway between her place and mine, approximately 5 minutes walk for each of us. I had been continuing my walks in the Hall of Horrors regularly,  hoping to build stamina. But today I felt weaker than before.  

One of the first and perhaps most important steps in understanding and accepting a diagnosis of lipedema is connecting with others who have it. We scour the online forums looking for those most shaped like ourselves, and for many of us, finding this feels like kismet. When I saw images of Rachel before her first surgery,  I immediately reached out. She lives in California,  and was very close in height and weight,  and the lipedema seemed to have developed very similarly across her body. She had been through her first surgery, with the others booked, and her last one would be just one day after mine,  also with Dr. S. I soon began pummeling her with questions. From inquiries about pre-op, who to book for massage, what to expect in recovery, she answered it all, with a touch of humour when possible. 

We kept in touch over the months and arranged to meet today since she will fly back on Thursday.  I was so disappointed,  but I knew walking 5 minutes outside was not yet within my grasp. She graciously agreed to come by my place with her beautiful daughter,  and I was ecstatic.  I threw my arms around her and shared a look that only two people who get it can share. 

It was wonderful to talk about how I was feeling and ask her about the various stages she had gone through.  Afterall, I still need to get through the next two surgeries that she has finally completed.  To hear her gratitude for having done it, with no regret, was a relief.  “Every day is easier, you’ll see.” she said, and headed to the clinic for her final appointment with Dr. S.

Meanwhile,  I needed a little rest before tackling that shower on my own. This time, the plan was to remove my compression,  rest and let my body acclimate to the reduced pressure,  then slowly make my way into a lukewarm shower sitting on a chair.  Of course,  it did not go as planned since Ifi arrived downstairs just as I was about to start the process.  Traci didn’t want to leave me to let her in given that some people faint while doing this, but I insisted. And I made it! I let the water (a bit more than lukewarm, to be honest) run over me as I sat there, and it was bliss. I was able to wash and condition my hair even, then heard Traci tap, tap, tapping. “Ya still alive in there, m’dear?” I turned off the water and said, through chattering teeth, “Yep, but not for long. I’m freezing to death.”  

It’s something I have noticed since the surgery, that I have more difficulty regulating my body temperature and I don’t just get cold, I get teeth chattering, body convulsing cold. So I bundled up in the soft towel I had brought from home, draped myself in my robe, and was greeted by Ifi with a teasing smile. “Ummm, makeup today, I see.” I had made the effort to look alive before Rachel’s visit and hadn’t removed it before the shower, leaving me in my pale skin and blackened eyes looking like a drenched version of the lead singer of KISS.

Traci handed me a wet wipe and we chuckled as I cleaned up, and lay down once more. Ifi was pleased to see the progress. She acknowledged the additional swelling, but the bruising was better, she said. And this time there were virtually no leaks. I felt a bit less swollen than the start of the day, but definitely more exhausted.  Ifi left for her next angel’s errand, and Traci went to the clinic for more meds for me, supper, and some gorgeous treats. She is a godsend.

She did crack the whip later though, making me do additional laps and stairs in the Hall of Horrors, so it all balanced out.

Tomorrow I am going to attempt to rejoin society,  even if it means just  poking my head out the door. Anyone with canes, walkers, and scooters may be at risk once I get there.

Stay tuned! XoXo