The night before my surgery was very nice. We ate at a little Mexican restaurant, put both babies to sleep around 7:30, and spent the rest of the night relaxing in front of the TV. I went to bed at 10:00. Around Midnight, I woke up with a horrible pain in my ribcage. I spent the next 4 hours writhing in pain. Yes, I had a damn gallstone attack on the night before my surgery. What are the odds?
I got to the hospital around 10:00 am the next morning, eager and ready to have my damn gallbladder extracted from my body. The surgery went well. I woke up in pain and vomiting, but otherwise everything went well. I was in recovery for a long time, because I was so damn nauseous.
When the sickness finally passed, I asked to use the restroom. I REALLY had to pee. But when I got to the bathroom, I just couldn't urinate. I tried and tried, but I couldn't pee. The nurse explained that being unable to urinate is a common side effect of surgery. They performed an ultrasound of my bladder, and informed me that they would have to put in a catheter. I pleaded with the nurse to let me try to pee again, and she consented. After much effort and praying, I finally peed. THANK GOD! After a few more hours in stage 2 recovery, I was discharged. I got home around 7:00 pm, just in time to kiss my babies and put them to bed.
Today I am feeling pretty good. I have been taking my percocet every four hours to stay on top of the pain. John has been wonderful. He has basically done everything for me and the kids. As I type this, he is at the park with the babies. I am a lucky girl.
In other news, Izzy has been a fussy little guy lately. This past weekend he cried almost nonstop. I knew something was wrong. John took him to the pediatrician yesterday, and he was diagnosed with an ear infection. Poor little baby.
And also, my husband has taken it upon himself to wean Izzy off of the swaddle. The child has only napped for 30 minutes today. It has been a traumatic experience.