It has been a little over ten weeks since my bariatric by-pass surgery. The recovery didn’t go quite as expected. Twenty to thirty percent of people will get an infection. The surgeon has to pull a very large tool through the bowel and it can cause an infection. Not wanting to be left out, I guess, my body decided to get an infection in a really big way.
My surgery was on November 17 2015. I came home late on November 19th, the day before my thirty-second wedding anniversary. By Sunday, I was not doing well. Pain in the left side of my abdomen, extreme nausea, the largest incision was red hot and looking very angry. We can’t forget the rash. Oh my, it was over my entire torso. It looked bad. Late that evening I began to heave, a lot. Nothing was in my egg-sized pouch-of-a-stomach. I struggled through Sunday and early Monday morning called the surgery clinic. They told me come in around 10:00am. I went back to bed to try and get some rest.
At 9:00 am I got up and went to the bathroom and then began to smell the worse smell I have ever encountered. I thought it was my urine. As I looked down, I saw that my incision had burst open and gross stuff was pouring out. I started gagging. I ran out of the bathroom onto the nearby back porch trying to get away from the smell. No way. The smell wasn’t in the room. The smell was me. Oh my word.
My hubby, Seth heard the commotion and came running to my aid. Bless his heart, he had no inkling of the horrible smell or sight he would see. Between the two of us we got it bandaged up and I got dressed to go to the surgery clinic. The entire drive was awful with the smell invading our orifices. I was embarrassed, scared and in pain.
I prayed. Seth prayed. I continued to pray.
Seth drove. Seth drove quickly.
I prayed that I wouldn’t have to sit out in the waiting room. I prayed the room where I would wait would have a comfortable big chair. I could barely sit. I just wanted to lay down and stop smelling like the foulest thing you can ever imagine. I believe I now know how hell must smell. The nurses were wonderful. They rushed me right back into the care room. The chair was big and the music playing over the speakers were all songs from the 70’s, I loved that part. We were in that room for five hours before a bed/room was ready for me in the ICU.
My journey to health had definitely hit a major roadblock. I had no idea how far off track this journey would go.