After days of agony in the hospital, I was permitted to go
home. The ride back was long and painful
and admittedly terrifying. There was
great anticipation of getting home and recovering in my own bed. Yet, there was the fear that something could
go wrong, since the doctors and nurses were no longer at my disposal. Nevertheless, I put on a brave face and
prepared for the next stages of my recovery.
It certainly wasn’t as easy as I had imagined. I got home that evening and really wanted to
take a shower, as I hadn't showered since the day before my surgery. However, I couldn’t get in by myself. Jonathan carefully and gently held me and
eased each leg over the bathtub as I winced in pain. He said outside the shower, just in case I
couldn’t stay standing and to help me when I was finished. It was a fast shower, as I couldn’t lift up
my arms to wash my hair and it made me too sad too look at my absurdly swollen
body.
I slept in the recliner that night, since lying flat on my
back was out of the question. Jonathan
had set his alarm to go off through the night to bring me all of my
medication. It was that experience that
showed me that he was going to be an amazing father, as he cared for me with
such love and concern. He woke up when
he heard me crying in the night from the pain, made sure I had my medication
around the clock, and helped me take care of my most basic necessities. Really, I had no idea how he could love me in
what I felt was such a pathetic and disgusting state. Yet, I couldn’t have loved him more.
Four days after surgery, waking up with lumps impressed in
my fluid filled skin, I noticed a horrific change to my abdomen. It was purple. Not the purple of bruises, but the purple of
eggplant. It wrapped around my torso,
from my front to halfway around my back.
It was an odd sight, seeing the beautiful richness of the purple,
deepening almost to black, yet knowing it was supposed to be my pale, ivory
skin. Something was wrong.
I was running a fever of 103 degrees. Way too high.
My torso screamed infection. I
called Dr. Beiter
immediately, who sounded deeply concerned.
“Get back here,” was his command.
I told him no. My home was
forty-five miles away, I was in agony, and I was not sitting in a car that
long. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go back! At the very least, he wanted me to go to a
hospital close by, but I again refused. Couldn’t I just try to bring the fever
down? Couldn’t I put ice on my side? I had one day. Ibuprofen and ice. If the fever remained in to the next day, I needed
to go to the hospital immediately.
Miraculously, my fever went down, but the purple
remained. Dr.
Beiter explained that it was just the pooling of the blood on one
side. Although it was truly awful to
look at, it was a relief knowing that it was not atypical. However, my other symptoms were more
difficult to explain. I couldn’t keep
anything in my system. No matter what I
ate or drank, even if just a sip of water, went right through me. I was so weak from the surgery and so weak
from not being able to get proper nutrition that my recovery took very long.
Two weeks after surgery and I was still horribly purple,
unable to stand up straight, and still going to the bathroom about fifteen
times per day. Dr. Beiter wanted to see me for a
follow-up to check on me and explain everything he did in surgery. My mom drove me back up to St. Peter’s for
the visit. She was so impressed with Dr. Beiter, his
knowledge, and his warmth. According to
her, surgeons are not usually so personable and caring. He was a rare gem.
He showed us on video my surgery. My exact surgery! He showed why I couldn’t go to the bathroom
after surgery – my ureter was so covered with endometriosis and the cutting was
so extensive, the ureter swelled up, preventing me from urinating. Dr.
Beiter found a significant amount of endometriosis under my left ovary,
the side that always gave me such pain.
He pinned the ovary up, cleared it out, and left the ovary there to drop
naturally after everything was healed.
The whole surgery was a work of art.
When he finished his explanation it was clear: I was free from endometriosis.
My next step was to get an HSG, or hysterosalpingogram, in the next few weeks. If there were any blockages IN my fallopian
tubes, this procedure would not only show where they were, but should also
clear them out. Once I had this
procedure, it was time to start trying to conceive. Dr.
Beiter had said that if it was going to happen for us, now was going to
be the time to do it.
It was game time! I was so excited, but also so nervous. What if it still didn’t happen for us? And what if it did?! Was I ready to become a mom? I prayed to God so hard, asked for the
intercession of St. Gianna and St. Gerard, and finally, to the Blessed
Mother. Lord, I put my life in your
hands.
St. Gianna, Patron Saint of Mothers
Up next, my plan for conception!
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