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If anyone has a Facebook account and wants to add me, I am Annie Trepanier on there. Just send me a message telling me who you are on here so I know who it is that is asking!

1:01 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Brain dump...

*walks in*

*barfs brains onto floor*

*walks away*

*turns back* Uh... you're gonna need me to decypher this mess wontcha?

OK... yesteday I went to see my GP because I am tired of my incision bleeding constantly and because I wanted a doctor to look me over and tell me I am on the mend. The visit was a mixed pot of feelings... My wound is bad. It is healhty. But it is bad. Wounds like this can take months to heal completely. They heal through a process called granulation; feel free to google it if you have a strong stomach! Basically, the skin needs to build itself back from the bottom up. Slooooooooooooow process. It may take up to a month before the bleeding and oozing stops. This means a month of being a slave to this wound. Cleaning, keeping clean, bandaging when I go out or sleep to protect it from infection. And there is nothing that can be put on it to speed things up. The wound will heal in its own time. And it will not heal pretty. It will be wide and the flesh will likely be thick and hard and ugly and discoloured. This bothers me a bit. I know it's not a part of my body that anyone but Vin sees and he doesn't care but... it's MY body. I do not want my body to be unnecessarily damaged. I suppose I could go to a plastic surgeon to get it fixed but you can believe me when I say that I am not going anywhere near a scalpel again unless my life depends on it!

Dr Godbout extended the script for one of my antibiotics just to be safe. And when he asked how the infection happened and I explained Dr Garcia's version that bacteria from my skin's surface just got into my abdomen during surgery, he gave me a look that suggested he thought that was bullshit. Later, when speaking to my father in law, we discussed how sterile OR's are supposed to be and how they slather the hell out of you with Betadine and often place a sticky film over your skin and cut through that... bah... in all likelyhood, the infection happened either because the OR was not sterile, the procedures were not followed or I was infected while I was in hosp in the few days after the op. If Gatineau's ER won the distinction of being the worst ER in Quebec, I doubt the rest of the hosp is any better!

Oh well... regardless of how or why it happened, it did. And now I am dealing with the aftermath. I am tired. Tired from the surgery. Tired from the infection. Tired from the ER visit. Tired from the stress. It will take time to get back on my feet. I must be patient and perseverant!

I'm also being a smart girl and taking my bloody Ativan daily now. I will take it for a week or so... remove the stress and anxiety and relax a bit. Stress and anxiety have been consuming me whole in the past few days.

In other news, I am drowning in the bitchiness of a few women and it's not nice and I don't like it and those of you women who know I love you and know they are not the sort to be bitchy will forgive me for being annoyed and shouting: I HATE WOMEN!!!!

*sigh* I am feeling like a very inept Aspie when faced with women's venomous side. I didn't do anything!!! Why am I being punished?

So there... I thin today I will go buy a couple of colourful chiclids to fill an empty fish tank I have....

5:42 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Not out of the woods yet, am I?

So... since my epic entry, I have had to battle nausea caused either by the new narcotics or by the fact that one or both of the antibiotics I am taking is turning my insides to sludge. I managed not to puke but now I have diarrhea. Yay me. I am off narcotics and taking Advil and Tylenol so I am in constant but manageable pain. Yay.

I'm constantly worried about the infection returning or resisting the antibiotics and getting really really sick. But my abdomen is supple, there are no outward signs of infection and no bumps or rigid areas forming around the incision. The incision itself it still swollen and seeping and bleeding occasionally but my best friend who is an ICU nurse came to check it and says it's clean and normal. Ugly as fuck, yes. But nothing to be alarmed or concerned about. Still... I worry.

And it is so ugly... Sandra warned me that it may remain this uneven and magled even after it's healed. At least now I know. The skin under the incision is higher than the skin over it... think of those earthquake models we saw in science class... where one piece of land moves above another... when I lay flat, my mons is higher than my belly a bit. It's ugly. I hate it. I'll just have to deal with it. I wasn't happy with the way my c-section scars looked... this... this is traumatizing.

Vin is a God. He is patient and caring through it all. Holds my hand and strokes my head while I cry from pain, exhaustion and worry. I am unable to nap in the afternoon because my body just cannot wind down enough. He bought me an insanely expensive heavenly body pillow by Tempurpedic. I call it my best friend. This afternoon, I wrapped myself around it and I would have fallen asleep but then I moved slightly and felt something wet. I moved and saw that my damned wound was bleeding again and I just started sobbing. So again, being a God, Vin has gone out to find me those thin adhesive film things they use in hospitals so we can make a waterproof bandage so I can take a nice looooooooong bath.

I want all this to be over. I want to heal and start feeling human again.

I'm done whining now.

3:52 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

26 hours in the ER... (VERY LONG entry)

So last wednesday was kind of rough... lots of pain and was feeling low. Late in the evening I started feeling like I might have a urinary infection because I felt a constant "gotta go to the loo now!!!" feeling. I started my usual regimen of cranberry juice and hoped it would pass. I had shivers during the evening and I think I must have run a fever during the night because I woke up soaking wet.

The gotta pee feeling did not pass. I spent all morning drinking tons of cranberry juice and it didn't help. I was also beginning to worry about my incision because the steri-strips were all still in place save for two and it looked like the wound was not closing. Any movement I made that required any effort caused the incision to start bleeding or seeping. Ann then there was the pain. I had to take my Demerol every 4 hours to keep it tolerable. I was also beginning to feel like I might have a yeast infection. Pure joy! I went to the pharmacy with Vin to get Canesten and hoped that a short car ride in fresh air might help. It did not! I got home, exhausted and in pain and my incision was bleeding. We called the health info line and the nurse advised me to stop taking my demerol and go to the ER.

Vin picked up the kids from camp and I called my mum to come babysit and we went to the ER at 4:30. We were incredibly lucky that it was very quiet; we got to see the triage nurse right away and she allowed me to wait on a gurney and even hunted down a few pillows to prop my legs up! (pillows are a rarity at our ER!) I got in to see the doctor within an hour. His examination revealed that there was swelling and a slight mass on the left side of my abdomen by the incision so he ordered blood tests. Nurse came in, took blood and we were sent back to the waiting room. We waited a good two hours before the blood test results were back; high white blood cell count. Infection. The ER doc had called and talked to my OBGYN surgeon already and they elected to keep me overnight and do an ultrasound in the morning. I was NOT pleased. I knew that keeping me overnight meant in the ER observation area. The ZOO!

I was wrong! The ER observation area was so full that they had to keep me in an exam room with an elderly gentleman. Thankfully there was a curtain to give us some sort of privacy. They installed an IV, started me on antibiotics, gave me Demerol, Gravol (nausea meds) and Attivan. I was propped up with a few pillows and was sort of kind of not too uncomfortable but still felt quite fragile and teary eyed. I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to sleep but ultimately, exhaustion and the meds got the better of me and I slept.

In the morning, the back pain was starting to get pretty rough but I soldiered on. They took me to radiology for my ultrasound on my gurney because I couldn't stand to sit for more than 5-10 minutes at a time. I waited an hour before they could see me. While I was waiting, my OBGYN surgeon came to see me and told me that they suspected the masses they felt were either blood or puss (a hematoma or an abcess). If it was an abcess, they would drain it, if it was blood, they would let it get reabsorbed by my body. The ultrasound revealed small pockets of air in the upper layers of tissue and fluids in the adbomen, no blood, no puss. They could see clear signs of inflamation but were concerned about theair pockets because after a week, these could no longer be air from the operation. They were a possible sign of bacterial infection by bacteria that release gas. So they decided to do a scan of my abdomen. I was then wheeled back to the ER to wait for results.

I mentioned the ER was full right? Well, upon my return, I was put in 2 1/2. 2 1/2 is the spot on the wall next to the nurse station that is between exam room 2 and 3! There was a hand scribbled piece of paper taped to the wall that said 2 1/2. That's where I was! Madness! Around noon, my doctor came to see me, told me that I had an infection, that I did not need to be reoperated (because that was a possiblity so they had kept me from eating or drinking since the previous night) but that they wanted to keep me on IV antibiotics and keep me in hospital until early next week and then redo an ultrasound. I looked at him, quite concerned, and asked: "You're sending me to a room, right? Not keeping me HERE in the ER!" He said he was admitting me to a room but just wasn't sure how long it would before they took me up.

A few more days in the hospital. One of those snazzy adjustable beds. Free meds. I took this all in stride. I ate a sammich and waited in "spot" 2 1/2 until an orderly came to get me... and took me to C-2 and told me it was unlikely I would get a room. C-2.

CORRIDOR 2!

It has a nice and proper blue plastic sign with big medical and serious looking white letters. C-2. The spot on the wall that separates the ER observation area's nurses' station from The ZOO. C-2 is different from the other assigned places in The ZOO; it has NO CURTAINS! Privacy? Bah! Privacy shmivacy! As I sat there, gutted, trying to grasp my situation, an orderly came by with two swabs and perkily explained that all new admissions need to be tested for nosocomial infections: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nosocomial_infection and for clostridium http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clostridium, so she was going to gently swab the inside of my nose and then she said my rectum needed to be swabbed too and since I didn't have curtains she had let my nurse know and the next time I went to the loo, I had to get the nurse to come with me if I couldn't swab the inside of my own rectum.

I felt like I was in a nightmare. There I was, in The ZOO, surrounded by elderly fart machines, coughing heaps of blubber, dangerous patients guarded by security guards and a mental patients gimgerly hopping in the aisles talking to everyone and they expected me to go stand in a filthy public loo and bend over and spread my buttcheeks so a nurse could swab the inside of my rectum.

Privacy??? HAH!

DIGNITY???? Apparently it isn't covered by Quebec Health insurance.

I was numb.

Now, by this point, my back was in excruciating pain, so much so, that the Demerol was no longer relieving the pain from the incision site/infection. I was hysterical and just couldn't fathom spending another night, let alone a few more days on a hard as rock gurney. There was no way of getting a hold on my nurse because she was swamped by patients so I laid there, shaking and trying to not lose my damn mind.

I wasn't strong enough. The pain and the anxiety, with the help of a second psych patient who was wheeling around the aisles telling elaborate stories about his native american ancestry, won out. I LOST IT!

I sat up a bit to try to relieve the pressure and the pain and I started crying uncontrollably. An orderly came by and went and got my nurse. They tried to calm me down, offerred to put a big fluffy comforter type thing on my gurney to make it more confortable and the nurse gave me Ativan. When they tried to move me, the pain was so much that I nearly blacked out. I screamed in agony and collapsed on the pillow that was propped up on the dusty dirty wall next to my gurney, my forehead pressed into the very serious C-2 sign. I was sobbing uncontrollably and couldn't breathe. They let me get my bearings, gave me pain meds and then they managed to get off the gurney and onto a chair. They put the fluffy thing on my gurney and laid me back on it. Granted, it was less uncomfortable but it didn't change the nastiness of the surroundings.

My nurse tried to get me a room in maternity but they refused to let me come up because I had an infected open wound. Then it hit me... if my wound was a threat to others... wasn't pretty much all these sickos a threat to me and my open wound? What was the wisdom in keeping me in the ER with open portal for infection and an already shot immune system? I told the nurse I just could not cope, that I wanted to see the OBGYN on call and be given oral antibiotics and let go. I waited.

My savior came! Dr Laliberte! (Ironic that it was Dr Freedom that made it possible for me to escape The ZOO!) He looked me over. He frowned at my incision and agreed I was much better off home than in The ZOO. He instructed me to go home, take off all the steri-strips still holding the incision closed, soak in the tub for 10-15 minutes, was the incision, pat it dry and then let it air dry and put no more steri-strips or bandages on it. He told me to apply humid compresses 3 times a day and wash the wound and pat away the blood and seepage. He prescribed 2 antibiotics to be taken simultaneously and new pain killers and Ativan and sent me home!

So here I am. Nearly 24 hours later. I am in little or no pain, high spirited and calm! The wound is UGLY!!! Man!!! What a nasty mess it is! I am taking pics daily to monitor progress but I get a feeling I am going to have a very ugly wide and ragged scar. But I am happy and healthy and home so all is good!

Man... this entry is epic! Felt good to get it all written though! If you've read the entire thing and are still here, you get a cookie!

10:08 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

I am home

ok... well... pardon thr typing, I am jacked up om demerol and attivan and out of praxtice on the small lappy keybosrd.

I woke up, not nervous at all on th day of the surgery. We made tbe finbal prepararions abs headed off to the hosp. Vic called from FL, that was so very seet! So off we went to hosp. We got there 15 mins early, they gave us the admission forms for the room and we dropped em off at billing and were told to go uo to th =e surgery ward.

My op was supposed to be 11:45 so this means the pre-op njrse was supposed to have well over an hour to prepare me, check I was jewelfree and shaved and ask questions... but when we got upstairs, we were told to sit and wait... and we waited a full 2 minutes becfore the nurse came, looking a bit frazzled and announced they wanted me in the OR right away.

So we sped through the stripping and checking procedure and I sat on the bed next to office anbd an orderlky immediately appeard and down we went! I kissed Vin good bye abd was parked with other people in bed in the operating room waiting area. At that point, I was stillnot nervous. The anesthesiologist (who looked 16 or so, geeky with glasses and pimples!) explained the pros and cons of epidural and complete anesthesia and I chose epidural.

I waited there for about 20 minutes and then the orderly came to get me to take me in. That i when I got nervous. The OR staff was nice and friendly. The asnesthiologist had trouble finding a good vein so he left me with two bruises before he found a veing on my right hand. He explained to me that he would administer a sedative before he installed the epi and then he
I'm gonna stop here for now because it is very hard fir me to oncentrate. I will continue klater.

Update on Annie's surgery

Hi,

This is Annie's hubby. Just giving everyone an update on Annie's operation... Everything went fine! YAAAAY! She went in at about 10h45 this morning, and came out at 2h30 pm. She was actually ready before that but a room was not ready yet for her (and I did not know that so for me she was 1 hour later than expected, so I was worrying a bit).

So there you go. I guess she will give more details when she's back home, but for now the important thing is that she's OK :-D

Good night all!

Vince

7:38 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Don't hate me because I am beautiful...

Because I am not.

8:01 AM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

I am afraid.
Current mood: anxious

For those who did not know... and that is probably most of you... on June 29th, I will undergo a hysterectomy. The operation is now 12 days away or so... and I am consumed with fear and anxiety.

I am afraid. I am anxious. I don't even really know what I am afraid of... afraid of pain? afraid of complications? afraid of waking up with more taken out of me than was initially planned? afraid of dying? I don't know.

I am not looking for reassurance. I am simply voicing my fear.

Do not dimiss me fear. Do not tell me that it is too early to be anxious. There is no predetermined period of time to be afraid of major surgery. Do not tell me that this is "routine major surgery". I don't care how routine it is. They're gonna slit me open and take out my uterus. They are going to do that to me. I'm the one who will go through it and I am the one who will suffer. The fact that it was my choice does make me less afraid. The fact that I know this is the only solution I have left does not make me less anfraid. Do not tell me that they can do it without cutting me open because they can not in my case. Do not tell me that you or someone you know went through it and it went well and the recovery was easy. What happened to you does not mean things will go the same for me. Do not tell me everything will be allright. You don't know that it will any more than I know that it will go wrong.

I am afraid.

I just need to say it. I need to own it. I also need to get the fuck over it or it will consume me but right now... right now, I am afraid and I can't shake it.

Say what you will. Say nothing if you will. But please... do not dismiss my fear. Do not try to reassure me. Just hear me.

I am afraid.

11:04 AM - 2 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

And for second lunch today...

...I shall heat up a nice can of gross.

10:12 AM - 4 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Tomorrow is another week...

Last week was rough. It's a big blur and it's gone and good riddance.

Here's hoping this week is better!

6:50 AM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment