My median sternotomy and thymectomy: Part IV – Hospital, cont.

I’m not going to try to do a day-by-day run-down of the rest of my time in the hospital, just some of my overall impressions and thoughts. I stayed in the hospital for 5 days total. Every day was better than the last, but every day sucked.

Respiratory: Respiratory therapists starting coming in to check on me regularly almost immediately. I was tasked with blowing into my little spirometer every hour I was awake to slowly get my lung capacity back up. Deep breaths followed by coughs. The coughs hurt. This is the part of a sternotomy that everyone seems to be aware of – hugging a pillow tight to your chest while coughing. That pillow, man . . . it is a necessity. So, the coughing. It hurt. Anything that moved that part of my body hurt and I could feel my bone slightly grinding if I didn’t have the pillow tight enough. Plus, all of my chest muscles hurt. It almost felt like they had been ripped apart. Huh, imagine that.

Getting up: I got out of bed on the morning after surgery. The nurse removed my catheter and my only requirement was to get to the bathroom and try to pee. It was hard at first. Standing up straight was difficult. I had a nurse on one side and a family member on the other to make sure I didn’t fall. After the first day, I just needed someone next to me as a precaution, but at first their support was extremely important. The first walk, as I reached the bathroom, I felt the need to cough. I managed to squeak out, “I need to cough. This is going to hurt bad, right?” to the nurse before coughing. And then screamed. I actually screamed. I’ve never felt pain like that. I was embarrassed that I screamed, but I just wasn’t expecting the pain. It is hard to describe; the best way I can explain it is like being stabbed from the inside every time I coughed. Once I knew what to expect, it was better, I guess. It still hurt like a bitch – for a long time, long after I came home – but I didn’t get caught off guard again.

Sitting up and walking: After I got out of bed for the first time, I was encouraged to sit up and walk around more and more. I had a spare wheelchair in my room and would use it as makeshift walker. Eventually, I started going on walks down the hallway and at some point, my mom started pushing the wheelchair for emergencies as I walked beside it. [I should mention – my husband got sick while I was in the hospital. I had to kick him out when he said he felt like throwing up and my mom stepped in for her turn as caretaker for a couple of days.] I didn’t really like sitting in a chair. It was very difficult to get back out of the chair I had in my room, so I mostly just used the side of my bed. By the fourth day, I could move back and forth to the bathroom without any support or extra precautions. I found the best way to get out of bed was to move the top part forward as much as possible. I then could be sitting straight up and slowly work my legs off of the side. This was a surprise to me – I didn’t really have the ability to rotate my upper body, so just swinging my legs off the side normally wasn’t an option. It took some work to figure it out. That was a bit shocking for me; something that I did every day without a second thought was now a carefully orchestrated process.

Eating: My appetite didn’t return to normal until the third or fourth day, but I started eating some on the second. I nibbled mostly. The toradol I needed for my stomach made my mouth extremely dry and I remember laughing hysterically [ouch!] with my mom as it took me nearly five minutes and half a glass of water to chew and swallow a bite of biscuit. There were no restrictions on what I ate.

Drains: The small drains came out on day two. The big chest drain came out on day three. That chest drain was awkward – I had to load the bubbly thing up into my wheelchair when I wanted to walk around. I hated the feeling of it moving around inside my body. I had already learned from the internet that removing the big drain wasn’t exactly painful, but was very uncomfortable. I held my mom’s hand and the surgeon just pretty much pulled it out in one swoop. It felt like most of my inside was going to come with it, but it didn’t of course. Once it was over, I had no pain or problem with any of my drain sites.

Bathing: I couldn’t take a bath until my last day in the hospital, so it was sponge bath city for me. I’m sure some of the elderly patients on the ward needed help from a nurse for this, but I was mobile enough to make due with just family and my private areas covered. I didn’t feel yucky, but my hair was a mess. I needed a headband from the gift shop to be presentable. I suggest bringing a hat.

TMI, bathroom time (you may want to skip this): I had great difficult wiping myself after using the bathroom. My range of motion was severely limited and I couldn’t rotate my body at all. I had to ask for help from the nurses every single time. You can imagine how embarrassing and degrading this was. Eventually, on the very last day (don’t know why no one else thought to show me earlier), a nurse showed me how to increase my range of motion by leaning forward and slightly squatting. It was very helpful. Not 100%, as I’m fat and that got in the way, but helpful.

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3 comments

  1. Oh, boy, do I relate to the hospital experience. I’m also a BBW and last summer spent two weeks in two different hospitals with cellulitis in my left leg and an UTI. After two IV’s blew, they decided I had to have a Pic line which was inserted in the batwing vein under my right arm.I know how embarrassing it was for me to have to ask for help. Having a herniated disc, vertigo, arthritis, and asthma among other things, having to jump up when getting the urge was a complicated process because I was tethered to a short line and I had to make sure it came with me or I was dead. I had a very good nurse who had been a teacher before switching careers to nursing and she taught me how to get myself up and ordered a port-a-potty to keep close to the bed. They didn’t explain when they inserted the pic line, that they were inserting a spaghetti tube into my body that had to be anchored at the skin and if got loose inside of my body, it would kill me because it was hanging over my heart. Scary stuff that!
    Didn’t like my bedside chair either. It had arms and came with my hips when I stood up. I wasn’t supposed to sit without my leg elevated and all they had was a trash can turned upside down at the first hospital, so I sat in my bed most of the time. My room also had an air conditioner with one setting — FREEZE OUT, so I had it turned off. But then it would get warm in there and finally my mother asked for a fan and it took the nurse two days to get me one. Actually it took my uncle to go up and demand one for me. I don’t know what he said to them, but we had one in five minutes flat!
    And to top it off, the television was stuck on for one week. The turn off button was broken and although I complained about it, the nurses “forgot” to call maintenance. The only way I could get any sleep was to turn the volume down as low as I could and try to ignore all that pretty flashing light up in that box on the wall.
    Other things that happened there too was one particular nurse didn’t like me, made rude comments about my weight and “lost” my meds.
    After I got home, the guest manager was notified of all the cr*p, I had put up with in their hospital. She apologized and said she would deal with it. I hope so, cause that’s my insurance’s network hospital.
    The most helpful thing I did was in the next hospital was to request an occupational therapist. She came loaded with gadgets to help me with potty issues, dressing, getting my socks and shoes on, and so forth. And she also gave me a list of groups and stores in the area that could help me get needed gadgets such as a new walker with a seat at a lower cost to me. I had one that somebody had given to me that wasn’t big enough and I consider my new walker a blessing because it fits my hips and I take it with me when I have to walk quite a bit in any place, so I have a place to sit down and stretch my back muscles and legs when they begin to hurt.
    I hope you are healing well. Boy, didn’t realize I was going to write a blog post too! *wink*

  2. Thanks for this. I’m going in for a thymectomy in August 2016. Can’t find much online either. This was the most helpful site I’ve come across.

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