Monday, September 18, 2017


I am not a proponent of self medicating - I do not take Nyquil, I do not take more than prescribed, I really don't like pain killers, muscle relaxers, etc. in general - BUT - when you have hives, nothing hits the spot like some dear sweet Benedryll and wine.....

My parents set up their wing-backed chair for me in the living room and tucked me in like some old woman that lives in a Victorian home by herself and spends her days holed up in her parlor. Propped up with pillows and my necessities in reach, I took one of my pain killers and then my Benedryll an hour or so later. This is probably an ill advised practice but I slept pretty well, I didn't itch, and I wasn't in too much pain. 

The rest of the first week continued similar to this. My in-laws came up that weekend to help at home, I was still "sleeping" sitting up, and I went back and forth from being thankful to miserable each day. I quickly went down to one pain pill a day (before bed) and saw an increase in appetite. My kids were more indifferent to my drainage bag than I thought, which was great, and Austin seemed to really enjoy "taking care of me" and respected and understood what I could and couldn't do around the house. My amazing friends brought over food and gifts and my village really came together in a big way. I was/am blessed!

I also had an odd craving for hot dogs. So wrong but so so right!

One week later, I went in for my follow up and things improved 1038532%.

My dad came with me to this appointment.  First I had an initial X-ray to make sure everything that was left was doing well. I guess I passed because I was sent across the hall to the thoracic surgeon's offices where Rachel, the nurse, changed my life.

She took that damn chest tube out.

Now against my better judgment from past years of IVF experience, I know better than to google anything but prior to this meeting, I googled the removal of this chest tube. First lesson - again, don't ever google procedures. Second lesson, make sure you are entering the correct search terms. Because I failed at #2, I had this painful, awful experience in my mind when it reality - it was glorious.

"Lay down on your side for me," said Rachel. "You are going to feel a little pressure but take a deep breath and hold it,"

And with one motion, only seen by my dad who said "whoa!", Rachel pulled the chest tube out of my side and whipped it on to the table beside the bed.

"Sit tight while I suture you and clean up the area".

She bustled around for a little and then said "Once you sit up, you will feel like a million bucks".

Although I had my doubts, she was so correct, it was uncanny.

In my mind the tube that was actually in my body was only a few inches long. In real life, it was 12-14 inches!! No wonder everything hurt! My insides were all "WTF is this foreign thing doing in here cramping our style!"

My dad described it as a slimy pink snake. I'm kind of disappointed it was cleared away before I saw it. In any event, now I could breath better, the pain in my shoulders and back was gone, and I felt like a new person. I could also sleep laying down! Win!


Today marks 2 months since my surgery. I ran 8 miles this morning in 1 hour and 11 minutes. 

Life is good! 

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