Goodbye Wonky Lady Parts!

Well. I did not die in surgery.
I really thought I was going to. And more often than not (as my family can attest!) I often am able to oddly predict things (though John always complains that I'm unable to predict the lottery numbers)

So all those Circus Peanuts, Twizzlers, ice cream, potato chips I ate thinking it was my last time on Earth, are now clinging to my thighs saying, "Haha, don't believe everything your "sick" sense tells you. Sick sense is like "sixth" sense - get it? Unless you are on Oxycodone you probably won't.

Anyway. I not only didn't die, but my surgery allegedly went fantastically. I was asleep, so what do I know? I had no adhesion's, and even my cysts had disappeared. UPDATE: 8/29/2014 - I received a copy of the pathology report, actually, I did, indeed have cysts. I had cysts in both fallopian tubes, in my follicles, and I also had fibroids and mild cystic cervicitis and benign basal endometrium (say that 5 times fast!). Remnants of the hemorrhagic cyst remained.
I am so glad that I asked for the report, because had I not, I would have wondered if the CAT scans had been wrong, if the pain had been in my head, etc... End of Update 8/29/2014

WHAT?

Dr. Ianieri assured me that cysts pop up and go away quickly, so this made me rethink everything. Perhaps all the abdominal pain had been the cysts coming/going. It's just a bit odd since one box of tampons has lasted me 2 years.

I'm praying giving my lady parts the boot will resolve the lower left abdominal pain. If not. I'm done. I'm tired of being poked, prodded, and that getting a second opinion often is so opposite from the first opinion that a third opinion is required.

Anyway, back to surgery:

Doylestown staff is quite awesome. For the most part. I mean, nothing is perfect (other than, of course, my Jewish Apple Cake) , I try to keep that in mind. Nurses/staff prior to surgery, in recovery, and in my room, were awesome.

I came out of anesthesia and I didn't feel that bad! As the night wore on, however, I spiked a fever, started having irregular heartbeats (oddly prior to surgery, my heart was smooth and not spazzing out!)

(I did go into an arrhythmia under anethisa, but they were able to take care of it. I know this only because someone told be while in recovery. I was a bit spaced out, so I'm not sure exactly what happened, but would have loved to have been given paperwork so I could share it with my cardiologist and keep it in my file. They gave me my blood work results when I was discharged (which I thought was great! Didn't even have to ask!) and my red cells and hemoglobin were down - my white cells were all over the place. I expected that, though. I've finally come to understand this is simply how my body reacts to infection/injury.)

I felt so horrible as the night wore on, I considered asking them to put me in a coma until my body adjusted itself. But then my fever went down, my heart stopped being irritable, and I was able to watch the Food Network so all was good.

I felt much better as the morning wore on. I was eating! Eggs! Bacon! Pizza! Then I went home. Slept all of Saturday. Sunday was horrible. My fever came back, the only thing I could eat were popsicles and then I promptly threw them all up.

Thank God for Ambien. I went to sleep that night, woke up Monday, and my fever was gone. I was now walking without pain and by Tuesday, I could lie on my sides in bed. Today - 7 days after surgery, and the pain is hardly noticeable. I'm dying to walk Jack (who has been pouting since last Friday when I skipped his daily walk - the first time since June!) but he weighs like, 80 pounds, and he pulls (bad training - I know this is my fault!). My anemia has set in, however, and this is the frustrating part. After I do anything minimal; dishes, walk (I'm up to 10 houses), shower, I have to take a break. I have shortness of breath (almost feels like a chest cold). But no fever. And so, other than WANTING to do more but not wanting to overdo it and make recovery longer, I'm doing fantastic - if I do say so myself.

This has been a crazy journey. Learned so many things (good and bad) about navigating the medical system - how important communication is (and how lacking it can be which only adds to more grief!).

Most importantly, I think I've FINALLY learned how to spell Dr. Ianieri's last name. Ian. IE (i before e), RI (Rhode Island).  Pronouncing it, however, is still a bit tricky.

Love Dr. Ianieri!!