Random Recovery Stuff & Where We Are Now

I got back to my room after the fourth drain was placed, in more pain than from all prior surgeries. 

To be fair, I got the second drain just three weeks after the first. It hurt worse, being close together without a lot of time to heal.

I had the gallbladder surgery/third drain placed four weeks after the second. I never had a chance to recover from that to see how long it would take, because:

I was only one week out of gb surgery/third drain when the fourth was placed. 

Fourth Drain

I could not wrap my mind around how this stomach (mostly the right side) full of teeny-tiny holes and incisions could hurt so, so badly. It seemed wrong to complain about such small marks on my skin. And yet, here they were, making me cry out with every move. I felt like such a wimp. 

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I learned something disgusting in the longer hospital visits. Post-gallbladder bodily functions are... well, soft. Freshly inserted drains do not allow twisting and good muscle-movement right off the bat.

I also learned a fundemental of hospital living: it is always the prettiest nurse who has to wipe you clean after a visit to the bathroom. :/ :/ :/ 

*cue Debbie Downer wah-wah-wahs*

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SO, here we are on the Eve of Easter. March is winding to a close, and I am living life as I have lived it all year long: with a disgusting drain sticking out of my stomach, paranoid that it will have to stay in longer or be replaced yet again. 

Becoming septic and having my body completely crash like that added another layer to my emotional roller coaster. I am fatigued all day long in a way that reminds me too much of laying in that hospital sicker than I have ever been. Thus, being so tired that I cannot attain an 'awake' feeling makes me feel that I must be terribly sick. That makes me feel that I will not get to have this drain removed. THAT makes me feel that I will continue to live in an endless cycle of drains being moved and failing to fix my problems. 

I have also been on heavy oral antibiotics the entire month. They are ravaging my body on a whole new level. I finally hit the last day of their cycle yesterday. I was so excited, taking my final six pills through the day and night! In fact, I even felt awake and present in my body and my life! I felt like a person for the first time since the new year!

Feeling like that gave me something I have not had - hope. I was excited and hopeful that this process really is almost done. This drain has been in for almost three weeks. I will have another ct scan on Wednesday to assess the situation. If it is good, they will remove the drain! If it is bad... who knows what is ahead. 

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That brings us to today (now yesterday, since it is after three in the morning). I was so weak and tired that I fought all day to keep my eyes open. Instead of feeling awake and present in my body, I felt locked inside my head and had to force every word and action out of some hidden depths. This was very discouraging. It is easy to slip back into that traumatized place of anxiety and fear. 

I can't let that happen, though. I can't. This has been the hardest year of my life, health-wise. Even mentally, it has been a challenge. I've tried to keep smiling, keep laughing, keep being open and vulnerable - asking for help when I'd rather hide away and curl up and cry in my bed. 

This whole thing has made me feel weak. It has made me feel exposed to everyone. It makes me feel like a bad Christian to watch people with real problems like cancer have (at least outwardly) a much better attitude than I. After surviving Giraffe's horrific birth and the years of depression and trauma that followed, I finally felt like a strong person. This trial has stolen that strength. 

The thing is, the people who love me are being so gracious. They are giving me permission that I will not give myself to be weak, to take the time I need to eventually get better. They are upholding me in prayer and supporting me and my little family in many other ways. 

My girls, too, are showing so much charm and grace. They keep telling me how glad they are that I am home. The baby asks me if my belly is trying to get better, and is pleased when I tell her it is. :) 

My husband has been my rock. He is still working long weeks, but will hold me when I need held, or help me out in a thousand little ways. My church family, who have not seen my face in months, continue to pray for me instead of writing me off. My pastor calls to check in. My Lord sustains me by His grace. He brings friends to lift me up and pray for me when the fear chokes me and I cannot pray for myself. 

Yes, there has to be an end in sight. It is beyond time. I am ready. We are all ready. By God's grace, this journey - perhaps the longest gallbladder saga ever  - has to be winding down. Please, Lord, could it be this coming week? lol