Day 5: Pain Hits Big Time
oo-boy!! Hoo-boy!! After my pronouncements yesterday of managing the pain level with minimal drug intervention, the pain has decided to manifest itself. Dramatically.
This is unexpected. After four days of managing mainly on Tylenol, this morning the hips were really screaming. I wasn’t screaming, but my hips were. I could barely move or walk.
And, they felt weaker. I have to support myself much more on the walker and the counter.
Upping the Meds
So, I surrendered. I took a half a hydrocodone (opioid pain med). In the words of the physicians maxim regarding medication dosages: “Start low and go slow”
And, of course, with the hydrocodone use, I have to pay much more close attention to my bowel movements or, euphemistically, BMs — at the hospital they warned me about patients who had to return to have impacted fecal material removed from their colon from acute constipation.
Yeeek!
To avoid any of that, I’m have a whole medicine cabinet of laxatives and stool softeners.
Toilet Seat Adjustments
Before leaving for the hospital, I practiced getting up and sitting down on the toilet seat, imagining how it would work after the procedure. It’s a tall seat to accomodate my 6’2” height and legs that go with that.
My imagination was not vivid enough, apparently: although things seemed to go well during the practice, it’s a lot more difficult with the increased pain, especially with my long legs.
Noted. I’ve ordered a toilet seat extender from Amazon. We’ll see how that goes.
Getting Into Bed
One thing I’ve noted, also, is that it’s more difficult (and painful) getting into bed. We have a tall bed, so when I’m sitting fully on it, my feet just touch the floor. What I’ve been doing (after seating myself) is throwing one leg up on the bed and then pulling the other one up behind it until they’re both up there, and then positioning until I’m comfortable.
But, I think it’s stressing my hips too much with one foot up and one foot down.
At the hospital, it was much less difficult because they could lower the whole bed: we can’t do that.
Back to Amazon and order a step I can put at the side of the bed. We’ll see how that goes, too.
In the interim, Rose is helping me move both legs simultaneously up on the bed. It’s much better.
Summation
A lot of this seems mundane and slow bowel movements certainly aren’t a fun topic of conversation, but this is what is happening. Anyone undergoing this procedure might benefit from this narration.
And, I think that this is where I’m internalizing the “slog” aspect: before the surgery we talk about recovery in an abstract sense, because we’re not experiencing it. Even immediately after, when we’re still under the influence of the anesthetic and initial pain meds, we’re optimistically thinking, “Ok, I’ll have a few days of slog and I’ll deal with it.”
And it’s good — we’re determined to make the best of it and project good thoughts and vibs.
Now, on the fifth day, the reality of the “slog” is coming to the fore. The pain is making itself more known, mornings are incredibly stiff and hard to get moving.
It’s not unlike when you undertake some adventure — during the planning you imagine how it’s going to be, you anticipate the wonder of the experience and acknowledge the potential hardshps. And then the reality of that adventure sinks in once you’re underway. The reality trumps the imagination, in the end.
It’s not necessarily a bad reality — just different.
So, ultimately, it’s ok. I’ll up the pain medication a bit, try a couple of more devices to ease the effort of sitting/standing/reclining — tune the effort, if you will.
And watch those BM’s.