What was supposed to be a 2 hour surgery and a 2, maybe 3 day hospital stay eneded up being a five and a half hour surgery (with my truly brilliant, kind, badass surgeon calling her mentor in for backup) and a 6 day hospital stay. The last day and a half of which was a decent sized clusterfuck of just...miscommunication, frustration, surprise issues that have probably existed for months if not years, several tests, and a doctor walking into my room at 9:55pm, telling me that I could leave immediately, if I wanted.
(Ma'am, I was finally about 90 seconds from falling asleep when you walked in, visiting hours ended at 8pm, my mother re-arranged her entire everything 5 hours ago, and I can guarantee you she's fast fucking asleep, and even if she did jump out of bed and leave the hotel to come get me, I still wouldn't be packed up and leaving this hospital before midnight at the earliest. No, thank you, I'll leave tomorrow after breakfast. )
Turns out that the fibroid was inside my uterus, and ended up growing at a pretty good clip over the last 18 months, because when they took that fucker out last Thursday, it weighed fifteen fucking pounds.
I'm moving around better than my mom figured I would be (some stuff is still just exhausting, mainly having to re-think certain movements, that I'd already adapted in the last year and a half) and am off the heavy pain pills, fully untethered from the remaining bits of medical equipment. It is currently making me kinda queasy to look at my incision, even though it's healing great, because since it was a full mid-line vertical cut, my belly button now resembles nothing so much as a navel orange. Not a fan. (Also, sorry not sorry to anyone who hacks my phone, because you 100% will see a couple bloody OR photos, and some incredibly un-sexy post-op nudes.)
If anyone needs me, I'll be over here, playing Animal Crossing and watching who knows what on one of the 46 streaming thingies my parents have.
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