So long, farewell....

I started to come back to life following the operation, those who have had general anaesthetic will know the feeling... that floaty, where am I, what the hell is going on feeling... 

As soon as I could speak, or thought I could, I was trying to say, 'what did they do?' It took about five goes until the nurse heard my whimpering's... Being 'impatient Annie' (as my mother calls me), I wanted to know NOW!! 

I then managed to say, 'did they do the hysterectomy' to which she replied, something along the lines of ‘yes, love and a little bit more too’. I of course thought that meant my ovaries were outta there and me and Mrs Menopause were going to become good friends. 

Fortunately, my ovaries were still in place, and what she meant by a little bit more was that I had had my front wall (prolapsed bladder) and also my back wall fixed, which hadn't been a problem before, but had fallen down in the year since I last saw my consultant. I think my love for lifting weights probably hadn't helped.

So now, I can happily say that my 'papaya flue' is as it should be, my uterus has left the building, my ovaries are just hanging around, probably wondering where the uterus has gone, and I'm hopefully not going to get to know Mrs Menopause for another 10 or 12 years (yeah, can't wait for that, said no woman ever), but actually, knowing my luck I will be in the 50% that get it within 5 years, probably next week...

So recovery..... Urgh! 

Hi I'm Kirsty, I never sit down, ever, I even think I am doing things in my sleep. I am a full on mum when I'm not working, I try and be a good wife, I play netball, lift weights, travel for work, I see my friends.... I DON'T STOP... I don't know how to.... 

Until now... 

I literally have no choice. Well, I do, don't do as I'm told, and probably end up back in hospital. And I don't want that, not even for a second. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel (no pun intended). It may be a 6/8 oh ok, probably in total a 12 week tunnel... but there’s a light.  

So here is the official recovery... well, how I interpret it from my first week and a half recuperating:

• Do nothing, nada, nowt... in fact, don't even think about doing anything, talk about doing anything, and don’t even JOKE about doing anything.  
• Don't drive for 6 weeks. *actually sobs*
• Don't even think about lifting, dancing, laughing, and for the first week, communicating with your children. In fact, if they come in to the same room as you, leave. *sobs again*
• Do your exercises, ooooh, yeah, I like this one.... Oh...rock your knees from side to side ten times and lift your bum up and down.... not a weight, squat or a funky soundtrack in sight. 
• Oh yeah, the lifting your bum up and down just reminded me of another, no sex, for 6 weeks. This of course means it’s all I can think about now. What’s that saying, ‘you always want what you can’t have’?
• Oh wait, there is a good one here, no housework (although if Matt was reading this now he would probably say, no change there then...). Again though, I’m dying to hoover. This feeling is a first, but tell me I can’t do it… (Matt’s missing a trick here isn’t he…?)
• One of the painful things is the random belly burning that has been happening. I must admit over the last couple of days it hasn't happened but imagine the burn from severe sunburn on your belly (complete with being hot to touch), then add the same burning feeling inside your belly too... you might just be slightly close to this horrid feeling. I can only imagine how women who have had an abdominal hysterectomy with stitches feel.
• Don't SNEEZE, don't EVER sneeze. Oh my, I have sneezed on three occasions. It's horrific. This wasn't actually in my official recovery notes of what to do, but that moment you feel a sneeze coming and the colour drains out of you with FEAR... What is going to burst, fly out, or explode… arrrrghhhh! I can confirm nothing did happen that drastic (well as far as I know) but jeeeeez, it’s not fun. 
• Similar wind expulsion that is a no no, not that you have much choice (mainly because during the operation they use a gas inside you (in my head, I'm blown up like a puffa fish on the surgery table), but oh my, it’s the most painful thing ever…yes, I am talking about shooting tiny puffs of glitter, that sound like unicorns laughter and smell like rainbows, out of my bottom. The PAIN!? This has by far been the most painful part of the recovery. Honestly, it feels like somebody is shooting fire arrows up my ass. Oh, but not just that, wind pain in my shoulders too, which the doctor did warn me about because of the gas/puffa fish thing during surgery.

That's pretty much my experience of the recovery a week and a half in. But I have to say, the absolutely amazing part of the recovery has been the wonderful friends and family who have sent me cards, flowers, postcards with clouds on, chocolates, cakes (yes that amazing cake that literally, let the uterus out of the bag) and well wishes.  It is humbling and I am honestly so grateful. My house has looked like a florist this week and it’s been amazing. They have lifted my spirits and been beautiful to look at while I have been shoving cake, chocolates and sweets in my mouth. (I'll be cursing you all in 6 weeks when I'm 20 stone. Oh God no, not another blog to get fit).

Thank you Chris Roche for this fab cake.

And I have to do a PDA at this point, even though, after the first post he hasn't read this blog because it's about 'papaya's n that'. (I've changed the word he used to papaya as his word is even more offensive than the 'v' word). But Matt my husband has been an absolute star and I don't actually know what I would have done without him. We still have a long road ahead but so far he has been (and I'm going to quote what he said to me last night) my 'celibate home help'. It's so hard for me stepping back and not helping but he has literally stepped up and is doing EVERYTHING. From getting the kids dressed, to school/childminder, cooking tea, tidying the house, keeping me topped up with brews, bringing my dinner to me, food shopping, just everything that we normally do as a team.

So THANK YOU MATT if you ever read this! I owe you a weekend (probably a week to be fair) away playing golf.... but not for another 10 weeks at least. Actually, he said he won’t read this so he’ll miss out on his golf offer…..

Right, I've waffled on enough. My next post isn't going to be papaya related for a bit of a break, but I will keep you updated on my progress. I also have another post in mind about the kids during all of this change, including berry-gate, which is a funny story, well, it is now that enough time has passed, it was far from funny at the time.... on day 2 of being out of hospital... 

I'm going to have some fun with my next post... I’m now at the point where I’m waking up in the night with blog content going around in my head. I have a lot of waffle to share. 

Feel free to use the comments box to tell me to bore off at any point…

Have a good weekend everybody.

#papaya

#unicorns

#sharingiscaring

#headinthecloudsKC

Instagram: @headinthecloudsKC

From my netball team mates @NewtonpanthersNB

From my in laws

From Vicky C

From my mummy

From Brigeroony

Couldn't post any pictures of the chocolates/cakes/sweets... come on, this is me, they were in my tummy in a nanosecond... 

xx

Is this year over yet...

2015, what an absolute stinker this year has been. It's been an odd one though, things health wise haven't been great, which we will get to in a minute, but also all around me things have been happening to people that I love and care about, things that I wish I could help with more or change. But those aren't my stories to tell but lucky for you guys, the papaya story is, I know, I know, contain yourselves...

So although the title of this post is 'Is this year over year', that really winds me up.... why do we think that at midnight on December 31st that all the crap of the previous year will just stop!? As if our health and problems think, 'Oh, wait a minute, it's now 2016, lets give her a break....' I guess it's just something for us to cling on to in the hope that it will get better.....but then, being British, we start moaning four days into January (when the hangover has finally gone) when the same problems are still sat there, laughing at us for thinking things would change because the year has.

Anyway, so the health thing... I kid you not now.... I have been in pain every single day since 7th January 2015. Not all the same pain, well, my knee has been the one constant (so I do understand why a lot of people thought I was having a knee op). I have had one day, when nothing on my body hurt me, which was 10 September. It lasted for one day, in fact, I think it was only 4 hours in total.

So here is the list of ailments... its a bit of a long one today so bear with....

7th January - I do something to my knee while doing Les Mills Grit - Plyo. I then do a really blokey thing and carry on working out. That includes, more Grit Plyo, Bodypump, Grit Cardio, running, basically all the sort of things that will make a knee injury worse... I know, I'm a dick.


March some time (still working out with my dodgy knee), I keep getting some crazy stomach swellings (the picture to the right isn't me sticking my tummy out, it was ROCK hard like that all the time) which then starts a number of tests... blood tests, scans, and eventually a camera up the papaya's neighbour, nice!

You would have assumed at this point that one of the blood tests they carried out would have tested my blood count.... but no...that would be too simple..

So now I'm at the point where I am getting ridiculously out of breath walking up stairs, chronically tired from the moment I open my eyes (I felt all day like my eyes had only just opened, you know, that bog eye type feeling), when I take my make up off, I look like Casper the friendly ghost on smack. I have massive black patches under my eyes and I'm deathly pale, I just feel like I'm falling apart and can't understand it, especially when I have had so many tests recently.

Being a mum of two pre school children and holding down a job, the time period between Feb - Aug was the hardest part of this year. To this day now I have no idea how carried on with my day to day life feeling the way I did.

Jump to May, and the mouth ulcers. If you're friends with me on Facebook you will remember mouth ulcer-gate. Nearly 3 weeks of the most painful mouth ulcers ever, all over my tongue and gums. Nothing, and I mean, nothing, would ease the pain. I used to get temporary relief from Orajel but apart from that nothing helped.

I kept googling mouth ulcers and the NHS website said 'Most mouth ulcers will clear up by themselves within a week or two. You only need to see your GP or dentist if the ulcer gets worse or lasts longer than three weeks, or if you develop ulcers regularly.'

So I didn't go to the doctor until week 3, where she did my bloods again.

Friday before we went on our first family holiday abroad, I get a call from the doctors, 'Hi Kirsty, can you come down to the surgery within the hour to see the doctor'. In my 'non dramatic' way I think, this is it, I'm a goner!

When I got there the doctor said and I quote 'your iron stores are depleted, you have no iron in your body whatsoever'. I was like, oh, ok and that means....? I was severely anemic. My red blood cell count was 5 (I think from memory) when it should be about 175. I actually burst out crying when she told me because I had started to question my sanity and although the symptoms I mentioned above were happening, I never put them all together and I never got them looked at individually because I just thought it was nothing, stupidly.

The doctor wanted to get me in for a blood transfusion but I begged not to because I was going on holiday two days later and promised that I would instead take the iron tablets and eat iron rich food while sunning myself in Spain. She agreed, phew.

The next step was working out why I was so anemic because I eat iron rich foods all the time and have a well balanced diet.

After a couple of months of taking the iron and my levels going up, then back down again, then up and crashing down again, everything pointed to the really heavy periods that I had now got used to living with.

The periods, however, were getting worse every month until at one point, when I was staying down in London for work I flooded everywhere when I was in the office. Being away from home, this was horrific. I actually cried in the toilet. I couldn't just run home and change and I only had enough clothes with me for my overnight trip. It was getting unmanageable.

So then begins the pills and potions to try and ease the monthly nightmare. The doctor gave me Norethisterone to take if I needed to delay my periods for times I was going to London for work, or had a social event. Not fixing the problem as such, but controlling it.

I then got to the point where I was feeling exhausted two weeks before mother nature showed up and felt the same the week when she was in residence. That meant I only had one week of the month when I felt ok and had energy. So the doctor signed me off work for a month to try and get this under control and  changed the Norethisterone dose to take 3 tablets a day from day 15 - 26 of my cycle.

Anybody that knows me know that me and hormones don't get on. I can't take the pill because I've had a blot clot in the past and I am hypersensitive to hormones and any side effects associated with the pill, I get. So now, I was looking like a hormonal teenager with shockingly bad skin and my periods were coming every 20 days and only slightly lighter so still not solving the problem.... arghhhh!

In the meantime my papaya fixing appointment was getting closer and I had my appointment for the pre-op with the nurse. When I get in she sits me down and said 'So Kirsty, we have you in for a prolapse/pelvic floor fix and a papaya hysterectomy'... I was like, erm, NO, prolapse fix yes, but hysterectomy, NO..... and then I thought, ahaaa.... this could be the answer...... The nurse reassures me nothing will be done without my consent and that the consultant will go through everything on the morning of the op... So off I skip home.... to google 'vaginal hysterectomy'.....

Which then leads me to papaya surgery day....

#papaya
#sharingiscaring