It’s scary having three nurses and two doctors crowd around your hospital bed at 1.30am on Saturday morning, announcing you’ve had an ‘abnormal cardio event.’
Why is nothing in my life is EVER straight forward?
I had my fibroid embolisation procedure around lunchtime on Friday. It went really well, with me blithely chattering to the radiologist all the way through, worrying at times that I should maybe let him concentrate …
Things got a bit hairy in recovery. Wow did my womb start to hurt – it was HORRIBLE. I also wasn’t allowed to move for two hours because they’d punctured my femoral artery – on purpose – to do the procedure and I had to stay perfectly still to make sure it closed over properly and didn’t geyser my blood all over the floor.
After a while my pelvis started to hurt even more than my womb because my damaged sacrum (see chicken splits injury) can’t handle me lying on my back for that long.
I was given a self-administered opiate button to push every five minutes. I gave it a very thorough workout, but it didn’t really touch the sides of the pain.
I started to get really worried about what the predicted pain crescendo at 6-7pm would feel like …
Eventually, the cumulative pain relief made a dent in my misery and DD arrived to hold my hand.
After a few hours, I decided he had better things to do than witness my pain Armageddon, so I sent him off to do his Christmas shopping around 6.30pm.
And the weirdest thing happened … Or should I say DIDN’T happen. There was no pain Armageddon. Well, there was one, but it happened straight after the procedure. That was the worst it got.
Well, aside from being served this revolting dinner (that I didn’t eat) …
… and vomitting my guts up the first time I got out of bed to go to the bathroom.
I was feeling pretty cocky about my recovery until the nurses started waking me up every 20 minutes later that night and accusing me of over-medicating.
My pulse kept plummeting and they were so worried they called a doctor to examine me.
I love a chitter chat about my health, so when he asked me if I experienced shortness of breathe I regaled him with a description of the anxiety brick I carry around in my chest.
Next thing I knew I was having an ECG and that’s when things got freaky.
The doctor looked at the print out and scuttled out of the room. He returned with a second doctor who proceeded to quiz me about my chest brick and inform me I’d had an ‘abnormal cardio event’ and that the cardiology department had been contacted.
It was a bit scary to be lying there in the dark contemplating what an ‘abnormal cardio event’ might be and presuming something serious.
Two more ECGs were performed and many more questions were asked.
Then I was left in the darkness to fret.
About 10 minutes later the doctor returned, sat on the edge of my bed and told me how terribly sorry he was …
I swallowed nervously … then I burst out laughing. Because what he was sorry about was that they’d forgotten to reset the ECG machine after the last poor bastard’s dire reading.
My ECG was completely normal.
I think the doctor was a bit startled by my gales of laughter, but I told him it was waaaaaaay better that they’d made a mistake than me actually having heart problems.
I also thought that would be bloody right – why does this mad shite always happen to me?
I wasn’t traumatised, just astounded by it.
And then I finally got a couple of hours sleep.
Gawd I felt like crap yesterday, mainly from exhaustion. The pain was pretty minimal, I just gave myself a few fun drug squirts during the morning until they cut my supply off.
I ended the day tired, wonky, a bit sore, a bit crampy, but pretty good, all things considered.
And I’m only taking Nurofen for the pain. Amazing! (Well, I kinda regretted not taking them up on their offer of some take-home endone-style medication when I woke at 2am feeling VERY blah.)
But I’m not out of the woods yet on the Eff off Freddie front. The real test will come in three months when I get an ultrasound to check on Freddie’s size – he’s supposed to shrink by half, down to a level that doesn’t cause as many issues.
PS DD would like me to note that I’m a good example of why you shouldn’t be scared off by all the horrible stories you Google about medical procedures.