I'll leave some of the post-op stuff to your imagination (emesis basins, catheters, etc.) but the morphine pump was my friend. The first post-op night was so long. I'd hit the pump, doze off for five minutes, and then hit the pump again. I could always tell when I was getting something, and those times when I was a minute or two shy of the 6 minute limit, well I really wanted to go back to sleep. And of course, the first post op night they came into my room every hour to check on me and do a vitals check. The next morning, I figured I had to order my breakfast, and really tried to get into this "made to order" breakfast. Yeah. Right. You know those omelets they serve at hotel buffets? Not even that good. And cold. Blech. Then there was the person who came in to see me about post hospitalization rehab. She tried to make me make a choice and I kept telling her I couldn't focus (being hopped up on morphine and no sleep) and indeed my signature wasn't anywhere near the line. When my DH came in that day for one of his visits, he commented on the form and my signature. I didn't even recall the incident until later.
Lunch was no better that day. I ordered a grilled chicken sandwich with no bun. I swear they boiled the chicken and then threw it on the grill as it tasted more like what I put in soup than on a bun! The fresh fruit was okay though.
Therapy of course started the day after surgery. They got me out of bed on the day of surgery, but I was so queasy, they didn't really push it. It was nice to put the tv on HGTV and snooze through most of the episodes of whatever they showed. I don't know why I found it easier to sleep during the day than the night before - um, pain, maybe?
I never did have a decent meal while there. Was really glad to hubby bring me some coffee one day since what they served at the hospital wasn't bad, it was always cold.
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