The oral Dilaudid Annie was sent home with is very effective at dulling pain. It’s like diligent traffic cop for your neurons, keeping them from firing and feeling much pain in your brain. An unfortunate side effect is some of these traffic cops got a bit lost. They wandered on down to her colon, standing up just as diligently to anything down there. “None shall pass!” they exclaim. And none do. In this way, Dilaudid’s a very effective constipator. Is that word? It should be.
Adding insult to injury, anesthesia has a similar tendency, as the colon is the last organ to “wake up” after surgery (slacker).
So, team, what do you get when you combine those two things? A couch potato bowel, still living at home and spending its afternoons eating Pringles, flipping the bird at the hard-working heart and lungs upstairs.
So yesterday we sent in reinforcements to deter the wayward colon-blockers, and Annie’s colon had no other excuse but to get it’s, er…butt in gear. Finally. And thankfully. Whew.
Moreover, until today her head had felt like level 10 on this scale. Her headache was most definitely not fucking around. Worse, it just laughed at the Advil Migraine she threw at it, sending it running home crying. Turns out this too was aggravated by guess who? Dilaudid.
It was time for it to go. Even good, smooth tequila can overstay its welcome. She took her last one yesterday at 11am, and as if by magic, her headache slowly but surely disappeared. The Valium’s serving as a good pain med now, as are the newly introduced Tylenol and Ibuprofen. At this point, muscle relaxants are the most effective way to control the pain. It’s still very much there, but is more manageable and tolerable.
During mastectomies, surgeons install temporary tubes a few inches below one’s armpits, which drain excess fluid away from the surgical site, keeping it from building up. It usually takes 2-3 weeks after surgery for the draining to sufficiently subside, but I’m happy to note Annie should have hers out by this Friday, when she has her first post-op appointment. That will be a huge relief for her, as showering with them is often charitably described as a “royal pain in the ass”.
Annie’s done really well, considering the assault on her body. Monday early evening we sauntered (a little slower than a walk) down to the lake to watch the sun set and listen to the geese squawk. She’s able to get into and out of bed on her own now (a very big deal), and is even able to shoot me that look she always does when I make a stupid or silly joke. So three cheers for Annie. This is far from over, and she has a long recovery ahead of her. But she’s making excellent progress. I couldn’t be more proud of her.
