I’ve been MIA

This is my first post in some time, other than my pre-planned “Throwback Thursday” posts (I tend to prepare them in bulk when I have some spare time), and there is a reason for that.

On Tuesday 2 June I went in for surgery. It wasn’t something I was telling a lot of people because it was personal, and something I’d been considering on and off for a long time. It was recommended to me because it could help me with having less pain from my fibromyalgia, as well as some other health benefits.

Still, I was hesitant, because I hate surgery.

In the end though, I went for it, because everyone seemed very positive about it. It was a key-hole surgery and I should be home already the next day.

Except I wasn’t.

I should have gone with my initial gut feeling that I hate surgery. Because when they were putting in the first (or second, I don’t know exactly because I have yet to be given the papers from the day) instrument, they managed to scratch my aorta and cause a bleeding. Seriously? My aorta. There are a lot of crap in there, but they had to nick the fucking main artery in my entire body. (Sorry, I’m still somewhat bitter.)

Don’t get me wrong. I know there are always risks with surgery (hence my initial apprehension). But this is not a normal thing to happen. It does happen. But the odds are minimal. The doctors I had explained that they’d never seen it happen in all of their years there (15!), and I was the first patient of theirs to ever have this happen. I was worried about a lot of different complications. This particular one… Never even entered my mind.

So, they had to skip the key-hole surgery and open me up entirely. Then they kept me under for about 18 hours. I went in for surgery at 2pm on Tuesday and they finally woke me up at 9am on Wednesday.

I’m told that one of the first things I said was “Something is wrong”. I vaguely remember saying it too, and feeling it. Just this horrible feeling that things weren’t as they were meant to be. I was hooked up to a lot of machines and crap. Tubes going into my airways. Not exactly what I had expected to wake up to.

Funnily enough, I am told I spoke English at times and they had to tell me to switch back to Swedish. I would have thought that in like “default mode”, I would have stuck to Swedish, but apparently not. It took me a few hours to get back to myself a bit. I remember crying a lot. And panicking.

I stayed in ICU most of Wednesday, but finally got to go to a regular ward(?) around 7pm at night. Which was nice, since that was the first time they allowed you to use your phone. They’d contacted my mom on Tuesday, so she came down on Wednesday to see me and stayed the night. (I remember asking about her or saying “she’ll be here soon/should be here soon” like a million times while waiting for her to show up). Turns out you end up a little mama’s girl when something like this happens.

I finally got to go home from the hospital this Monday, but I’m still in a pretty bad shape. It’s getting better by the day though. I’m actually able to sit by the PC for a few minutes at a time now if I have a pillow behind me. Recovery is going to take a while though. Since they had to open me up, I’m not allowed to carry anything heavy (-ish) for two months. Which makes things kind of difficult. Right now I wouldn’t want to try anyway though, since it’s still fairly painful to move at all.

Anyway, so that’s why it’s been pretty quiet over here.

I have to say… There have been decisions in my life where I’ve gone “yeah, that was stupid – I really wish I hadn’t done that”, but I can generally say that I at least learned something from it. This time… This is probably the first time in my life where I truly wish that I could go back in time and and undo it.

The first few days in the hospital were awful. Any time I’d close my eyes and not focus on my breathing, I’d panic and think I wasn’t breathing at all. Any times I was nearly falling asleep, I’d panic and think I was never going to wake up again if I did fall asleep.

I’ll be fine though, I’m going to make a full recovery. I’m just still bitter, and I guess I will be for a little while.


I’ve been MIA — 9 Comments

  1. Oh my God, that is so scary! I am glad you are okayish now. You poor thing. πŸ™

    I hope you feel better soon, and that you get lots of help with moving!

    • Thanks, I’m getting slowly better – and I’m getting past the shock of it happening as well. So things are going well.

      I’ve hired a moving company (though we still don’t have a date), so not too much carrying for the move fortunately. And I’ve “hired” one of my brothers to help me sort out moving boxes and the remainder of things that needs to be packed just before I leave as well. He’s nice and cheap, can basically be paid in pizzas and other dinners πŸ˜€

  2. Oh, you poor thing! That sounds terrible. πŸ™

    I’m glad you came through, even with all the unexpected complications. I hope your recovery will go better than anyone expects, too.

    Many e-hugs and kisses from Scotland, while I’m still kind of close.

    • Thanks, I can feel myself getting just a little bit better every day – so that’s good πŸ™‚

      And, ooooh Scotland! I always wanted to go there. Is it as awesome as I always thought it would be? Maybe once I live in the UK I can manage a holiday north to Scotland. Would be great!

      • Scotland is way epic! I don’t want to leave. Unfortunately, I’ll be heading home in a few days. I’m sure that living in the south will make the north very accessible for you! Any time you had a long weekend, you could just dash up and then be back. I’ll be so jealous, you don’t even know.

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