This time around

This may be a TMI post—you’ve been warned! Also no pictures because that would be even grosser. 

My recovery from the sinus surgery has been weird to me, mostly because the whole process has been quite different from the previous seven major abdominal surgeries. And while I do recall having my tonsils out quite well, that was also different and done long ago when dinosaurs still roamed the earth.

For the most part, this has been a pain-free recovery. Sure, I was in some pain the first couple of days (and took the pain meds as I’d said I would) but I was done with them three days later. Alas, those meds weren’t done with me.

You can get really bound up from those drugs and so it’s recommended you take an over-the-counter aid to help move things along. But I’ve never really experienced that side effect before so I wasn’t too concerned. Since I was also taking antibiotics (which have the complete opposite effect on me), I didn’t think I would have any problems this time.  Boy was I wrong.

By Tuesday, it was clear my gut was in full on shut down mode. By Thursday, I was in so much gut pain that I couldn’t sleep and I kept breaking out in sweat as my gut spasmed. Friday (Christmas) I texted my mother who is a retired RN and pleaded for advice. It was so bad Christmas night that I was 80% sure I had a gut obstruction. As I tossed and turned in bed, and sweated and tried not to puke from pain, I was trying to figure out how the ER would treat me. I’d eaten a bit of food so I’d have to be intubated, only I just had sinus surgery so the NG tube couldn’t go up my nose. Plus I have mesh in my abdomen so I could not for the life of me figure out how a gut obstruction would be fixed—would the mesh just get cut? How would that work?

Saturday was still pretty bad, although I was able to take my mom’s advice and thought that maybe things were improving. By Sunday, I could tell that yes, I would live and my gut wouldn’t need drastic intervention.

Now add in all the irrigation and stuff I had to do. Basically I was a walking bio-hazard site for a couple of weeks. As I’ve mentioned to some friends, I put an ocean up my nose three times a day and I believe I killed an entire sub-continent’s worth of trees with all the tissues I used.

I have my second post-op visit next week. I will be curious to see what my ENT says about how much longer I can expect to have so much gunk in my head, and when I can stop with the ocean up the nose.

Vertigo—vɜrtɨɡoʊ

Until recently—as recently as Sunday—I would have told you that vertigo and dizziness were the same. Not so! I know now because I looked up inner ear + nausea after a truly wretched night of vertigo (not dizziness) and puking.

According to Dr. Google, dizziness is more about feeling as though you’re going to faint. You might see black spots and things may whirl but the emphasis is on the lightheaded feeling you get. Vertigo is feeling that everything is spinning around even when you know for a fact it is not (and it most certainly was not on Saturday night—but you couldn’t have convinced my brain and my stomach otherwise).

Thanks to seasonal allergies and bad ears, I generally have a few weeks every year when I can’t hear well because my ears are clogged. I’m pretty certain that I have woefully ineffective Eustachian tubes that don’t do a very good job draining my middle ears.  This lines up with my childhood experiences, when I did have a lot of ear infections.

This year, the tree pollen count started quite early and has been exceptionally high. So even with my normal regime of anti-allergy medications, I’ve been struggling with my ears. I’d had some bouts of vertigo but nothing like what happened Saturday night.

For about two hours, I barfed every 10 to 15 minutes while Kent, who truly is a saint, waited patiently for me to sort of shove the bucket his way before I gingerly lay back down again on the bed. He told me later he really wanted to rub my back or something while I was so ill, which while sweet would have earned him growls from me. I hate throwing up, absolutely hate it and I can’t stand to be touched while it’s going on. Just let me be miserable and then you can rub my back when it’s all over.

The next day, though, I was really curious. I knew I didn’t have anything seriously wrong, this whole episode was so clearly tied to my ears and my allergies but I wondered if there was anything else I could be doing. And that’s when I learned about the difference between vertigo and dizziness. Now you know it too.

As a sort of gross aside, the vertigo is mostly gone. In addition to ditching one OTC for a different one, I also suspect that my very vigorous puking somehow opened up those Eustachian tubes enough for my ears to drain.

And just because, here's an ear worm for you. Ear worms are nothing like being dizzy or having vertigo.

This is spinal tap

A friend of mine had to have a lumbar puncture the other day (she is fine now) and unfortunately she developed a spinal headache as a result of that puncture.

Her situation brought back memories of my own spinal tap and spinal headache, although her treatment was different than mine. Let me explain.

I had c-sections with both my children and I chose to have a spinal block for the anesthesia. If you know me well, then you already know that I have an extreme phobia of needles and all things related to needle-administered drugs or therapies or really anything. I hate needles. I hate them so much that for the first three of my seven major abdominal surgeries, I refused all pain medication because it was administered by a shot. I’m not sure why my phobia is only about needles because my pain tolerance is actually quite high (see also no pain relief because it came by a shot). There’s just something about being punctured and feeling the drug enter my body that’s horrifying to me. No thanks!

So for me to have a spinal block was a huge act of love. I knew it was best for my babies and I steeled myself to endure those horrible needles both times. But with my second child, I developed a spinal headache. As my anesthesiologist explained it to me, I was leaking some spinal fluid through the puncture, and as a result my poor brain was sort of sagging in my skull and that’s why I was in so much pain. I’ve never been so aware of the anatomy of my skull and my brain pan as I was that day.

He told me there were several options for fixing this leak. He could administer a blood patch at the site of the original spinal block. Um no thanks, that’s a needle. What’s behind door number two? Well, he said, we could restart your IV. Oh hell no, that’s even worse. Are there any other options?? Yes, he said, we don’t know why this works but if you drink caffeine that can fix the problem.

I didn’t yet drink coffee (that love affair didn’t begin for another decade), but I did like drinking Coke so I told him line them up and I’ll slug them down! So I got a bunch of Cokes, slugged them all down and miracle of miracles, it worked.

My friend chose the patch. I’m guessing she doesn’t hate needles as much as I do.