Vibes

A month ago I went in to hospital to have my hernia repaired.

It was supposed to be day surgery but I packed a bag in case.

Juffin would say that I'm a pessimist but I'm actually a realist.  I've been to hospital many times before.

My hernia was much larger than they thought, no shock to me.  I was under for several hours and spent the afternoon feeling pretty fucking miserable in the planned procedure unit... which is not meant for overnight stay but apparently there were no beds. I had two drains because of the hole left behind after they stuffed my bowel and small intestine back where it was supposed to be.

I stayed there for two days.

At this point I would like to make an observation, please be nice to nurses. They're not arseholes sent to fuck with you, they're just doing their damn job and trying to look after you.  Don't be a dick.

I had sporadic phone reception, one book that I'd finished and no TV.  I was literally starting at the walls.  Juffin was busy kid wrangling and because I couldn't really reach anyone, and had no idea how long I would be there, I didn't reach out for entertainment.  It was the longest two days of my life.

Upon my return home, I realised how much fun it is recovering from major surgery with two children who constantly want to be on you and pull the tube that is still hanging out of your guts.

Yes.  I had to go home with a drain.

The following week I start to feel shady as shit.

I spend Tuesday night in a fever soaked delirium whilst also trying to deal with my teething 15 month old.  Life is good..

On Wednesday, the day my Mum arrives, 9 days after operation, the acute care Nurse who's been visiting me at home, tells me that I look like crap and if my temperature doesn't decrease I should go to the hospital.  After midday Juffin tells me it's time after taking my temperature and it's somewhere in the high 37's.  I text Mum and tell her we're going to Emergency and throw a book, nightie and undies in my bag.  Lucky.

In triage my temperature is 38.9.

Time to invest in a new thermometer.

I spend a few hours in ED, then the Short Stay Unit where I go to have a CT scan, then onto SCDU which means something like surgical criticial decisions unit or some such rubbish.  They're not sure if they need to open me back up see....

I'm taken up there pretty late, around 10ish or something, and the old dude they park me next to gets all ornery and keeps yelling out 'NURSE!  KEEP IT DOWN'.  Oh the irony.  He snores and wakes up frequently asking for coffee/orange juice/sandwiches at regular intervals.  He's an arsehole. If I hadn't been feeling so crap, I would have told him to keep it fucking down.

I spend another night in feverish delirium with Doctor's coming to see me as my temperatures spikes again up near the 39 mark.  I have cold sweats and then shiver uncontrollably.  It's pretty rubbish.

The next day I see my lovely surgeon again who asks me what the hell is going on, I joke and tell him he should have done his job properly so I don't have to be there again.  He puts me on hella IV antibiotics and I get the good drugs and am told I don't need to have more surgery, just need to rest, rehydrate and kill all the bad bugs.

I spend the rest of my time up on Surgical Ward One, in, get this, MY OWN FUCKING ROOM.  I was stoked.  The SCDU nurses said it was because I'm such a good patient, but I think it's because that's all they had, see?!  Realist.

I go home five days later, with the drain still in, yes, I hate that fucking drain.  My Mum is here, Juffin is best fiance/baby daddy ever, and my friends and work colleagues have sent flowers, food, chocolate...

Fast forward to today and I'm feeling beyond defeated.

I had my drain out 12 days ago and was feeling pretty good.

Now I'm not.  I went to my GP this morning as my guts has swollen up again and is tender AF, my legs are aching, I feel fatigued, dizzy spells, I'm not sleeping well and get up 4 times a night... things have gone downhill, again. GP recommended another 2 weeks off work and more rest but here's the kicker, Juffin got a job!  Yes!  And we're so fricking excited and proud of him but he starts next week and I can't look after the kids on my own and my MIL is away. I'm working on shuffling things around but he'll have to drop the kids off at daycare at 6.15 as he has to be at work by 7.  

I need to get better.  I'm sick of feeling like crap.  I'm over Juffin having to do everything while I roll around looking on and feeling helpless.  I feel like a useless turd.  This was supposed to be a day procedure and here I am a month later still feeling like absolute shit.  If I watch any more Netflix I will turn into the Cable Guy.  

Look I know I need to put things in perspective and I know that I need to stop feeling so sorry for myself but I'm currently spending most of my time on the couch watching Mad Men or in bed watching Mad Men and I could really do with some good healthy, healing vibes at the moment.  

And cigarettes.

And Canadian Club.

Ok, maybe not the cigarettes but yes to the Canadian Club.

Leaving hospital for the second time...

Monday's

I have a serious case of the Monday's today.

Last night I stayed up watching Heston Blumenthal, because I love him, then having existential conversations with Juffin about Interstellar and who put the tessaract inside the wormhole for Coop to find... seriously.  Watch Interstellar.  I've seen it 5 times now and I still don't get it but McConaughey is the best in it.

Anyway, stayed up far too late then decided to eat a bowl of chocolate mousse and leftover roast beef at midnight before yelling at Juffin to go to bed.

On Saturday night I was up half the night with braxton hicks and I honestly thought I was going into labour. Mushroom came into our bed at some point and commenced Operation Kick Mum's Butt so that combined with less than 5 hours sleep last night has made me one tired and cranky Mama.

I've also had a sore throat and a cough for four days and my motivation has gone out the window.  My head is killing me and I coughed so much earlier that a little pee came out.  Yep.  I pissed myself.  
This morning we all slept in until nearly 8am and it was frantic mad dash to get to the pool for swimming lessons at 9.  I didn't even have a shower.  As I was dashing around trying to get shit sorted, I decided that instead of laying around here we should play at the pool for a couple of hours so started shoving stuff into a bag. Poor toddler is being neglected by my laziness.

When we came home I literally lay down for two minutes and managed to pass out for an hour.  Of course during this time the Mushroom raided the fridge and ate all the lollies that he could find.  He then promptly shat his pants.  First time in a week.

Monday can get f'ed.

Could I get any bigger?!

Bed

Foreword - This post is not for the squeasmish. 

I'm writing this post from my sick bed.

Yes, you read that correctly.  Sick bed.

Again.

For goodness sake.

I have been struck down with the dreaded diarrhoea.  Or as Juffin likes to call it, the arse pissing.  Delightful I know, but strangely apt.

Last night I felt fine.  I watched my fave shows, MKR and Downton, and then I went to bed.  Channel Seven has not paid me for this post but they should.  I love MKR and Downton.

I was woken abruptly by the Mushroom crying outside our room trying to get the door open around 1am.  I got up and let him in and baby Beet started jumping around.  I lay on my side for a while as I got crampier in the guts and thought, maybe I just need to fart.

Instantly realised that I definitely didn't need to fart and I made it to the toilet just in time.

Also I should note here that our ensuite toilet is not working at present so I had to dash down the hall to the main toilet.

Heavily pregnant hallway dashing at 1.23am is fun ya'll.

So began my long night as my bowels evacuated themselves in a torrent and, in some sort of sick coincidence, the heavens also opened up and we got buckets of rain.

This morning it was ongoing and I can tell you something, I'm fucking over it.

Hydralite, water and a potato are all that have passed my lips and I still feel twisty and gross.

Weird thing is that on Saturday night I took myself to bed early as I was having stabbing pains in my nether regions and my vjayjay felt like it had been kicked by a mule.

On Sunday morning I felt an overwhelming urge to scrub our ensuite from top to bottom on my
hands and knees with a toothbrush.  In the nude.  As attractive as that imagery is, it's prudent to remember how much I hate cleaning.  Like so much hate.  Is this nesting?  Already?  Because it's way too fucking early for that shit.  (You should see the ensuite though, sparkling!)

24 hours later, it's the diarrhoea.  Bowels spontaneously evacuating themselves can also be a sign of pre-labour.

Now let's not jump to any hasty conclusions, but I am so not ready for this baby.  It cannot in no uncertain terms come out yet.  I still have three weeks of work left and 6.5 whole weeks of baby growing left!  I haven't washed anything!  I haven't put up the hammock or the change table.  I haven't washed the carseat or installed the new one.  I haven't settled on middle names and I am not ready to do this ALL OVER AGAIN!

Also, my midwife is on holidays until Easter.

This baby is staying in there until then.

Can someone please tell the baby that?

I'm freaking out.

Freak out Face

Sick... again

Today my food intake looks like this:

A carrot
Copious cups of lemon and ginger tea
Two lemonade icy poles

I'm sick. AGAIN.  This pregnancy has seriously been nothing but one shitful illness after the other!

First there was gastro, which I thought was morning sickness, but then turned out to be gastro because you don't nearly shit your pants when you have morning sickness. Dr's advice, plenty of rest and fluids... yeah, right...

Then the headaches kicked in and have been ongoing the entire time.  Paracetamol is balls by the way. May as well just eat tic tacs.  Just saying.

We hit the 20 week mark and I stupidly think maybe this is it, maybe I've been as sick as I'll get but no, because last week I ended up getting fucking conjunctivitis, yes, PINK EYE.  I had to have the whole week off work and looked like something out of a Japanese horror movie.  You would assume that childhood illnesses like conjunctivitis would be common in a household that contain small children, EXCEPT THE MUSHROOM DIDN'T HAVE IT!  Just me!

Yesterday I went for a walk in the morning and hung out at the park with the Mushroom and some friends.  Got home around 1.30 and felt absolutely flogged.  I put it down to broken sleep and not having done much in the way of exercise for a while.  I passed out on the couch with Thomas the Tank blaring and didn't wake up for 2.5 hours.  God knows what my toddler was doing in that time but he is still alive and managed to get his lunchbox out of the fridge and eat the entire contents.

I've now spent the last 24 hours in agony as I can't breathe out of my nose, every joint is aching, my back, my neck, my head... I am gasping for breath like a mouth breathing frog and honestly feel like chopping my own head off to save myself the misery.  My sinuses feel like they're full of fucking lead.

Actually dying

The Juffin has been very helpful today keeping the Mushroom entertained whilst I flop about complaining and gasping.  He even attempted to go Christmas shopping but returned an hour later.. amateur.

To make matters worse, I can't even go to bed early tonight as we are now off to see Star Wars.  I've already paid for the fucking tickets and I'm not wasting $45 so fingers crossed I don't die in the aisle on the way to my seat.

Apologies in advance to all those attending.  Undoubtedly you will get my pestilence now.  Sorry.