It Was the Best of Times, It Was the Nurse of Times

Here’s the blog I started almost a week ago which fell by the wayside.  In an effort to detract from my postpartum moaning, I offer you this:

Recovery was a bit different this time, but that may be a function of the fact that this wasn’t my first section.  Honestly, the first day was super easy.  I was up and about by 4 PM that afternoon, even before the nurses had intended.  This meant that I had to carry around my satchel of pee – with strict instructions NOT to raise it above hip level.  Apparently that’s “bad.”  Duh.  I had a total Ghostbusters/Don’t Cross the Streams moment there.  I also got to kind of squeeze my legs together to keep my pads in place as I had not yet been issued those fabulous mesh disposable post-baby panties.  Man, those things are horrendous to look at but practical!  By 7:30 that night, I had been liberated from the dreaded catheter and the obnoxious automatic compression socks they put on you.  Those are the things that are hooked up to air pumps so that your legs are alternately squeezed.  It’s like hip-hop for your calves.  When you factor in hormone sweats, they are hot and stupid.

By 6:30 the next morning, I had achieved freedom from the IV port (aforementioned whiskey still sticking out of my right hand) and dressing from my section incision.  This meant that I was able to take a shower (!).  The morphine in my IV right after the section had made my skin feel like it was crawling.  A shower wouldn’t fix that, per se, but psychologically it helped.  Then it was just a matter of waiting to go home.

All in all, the pain wasn’t bad until that second night.  For some reason at 7:00 that night, it spiked and spiked hard.  I had been gloating up to that point that it was easier recovering from surgery than it had been being pregnant at the end.  That didn’t last.  I guess it was because they had to tug so violently this time around.  I do have much more colorful bruising.

I will absolutely say this:  if you are in Baton Rouge, Louisiana and need to have a kid, I recommend Woman’s Hospital.  Those folks are positively lovely.  They have it down to a science and you rarely find someone there that could even be classified as “mildly surly.”  This is a good thing but for one exception.  All the nurses are super cute.  Normally I would never mention this or feel threatened, but when you’re bloated with about 8 IV bags of fluids, have no makeup on, are wearing grimy maternity-type clothes, and have just had a baby, you just don’t feel the most confident.  But they’re so sweet and competent, you just can’t feel bitter.

There was one night nurse that was, shall we say, different.  It was like she flunked out of the Suicide Girls and went to nursing school.  Now mind you, I have no problem with alternative-type people.  I’ve always kind of been that way myself.  But this lady was way more interested in the longevity of the ink on one of my tattoos than when I had my last batch of pain meds.  She was also terribly un-subtle about rolling her different carts in and out of the room and slamming the door at 3:30 AM.  I promptly named her El Toro.

Speaking of, it was par for the course that she was my night nurse.  Hospitals are the worst places in the world for sleeping.  I think it may be easier to sleep at a truck pull.  On Saturday, I just wanted a 30 minute nap.  Felix had been sleeping great so he was not a problem.  The problem was the hospital staff.  From 9:30 to 10:20, no fewer than 3 people came into my room for various reasons.  To round it off, a 4th came in at 10:30.  I gave up trying to sleep.  It was like a senior citizens center from hell, with El Toro as the BINGO dictator.  I finally started getting pissed off.  I told Will that if we ever had another baby (impossible now that the tubes are tied), I would pack a padlock and a bear trap to secure the room.  I know these folks have important jobs and functions, but geez…

Regardless of the lack of sleep, we were out of the hospital in just over 48 hours.  Not my best time but fairly respectable.  Getting settled at home has been more stressful.  I also don’t want to discuss the surgical tape adhesive I’m still trying to scrape off of my skin.  Anyone ever try Goo-B-Gone on that stuff?  Anyone?

 

P.S.  I want to thank everyone on both WordPress and Facebook for the kind words after my last post.  Just like everything else these days, the kindness made me cry, but it was nice all the same.

Stella actually "seeing" Felix for the first time in 2 days.  She promptly refused to "see" him again for another 24 hours.

Stella at the hospital actually “seeing” Felix for the first time in 2 days. She promptly refused to “see” him again for another 24 hours.

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About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
This entry was posted in Parenting, pregnancy and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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