I don't know how those "Real Housewives" do it...

...Have all that plastic surgery, that is.  Those are some tough ladies.  Because surgery is HORRIBLE.  If, someday, I say to you, "You know, I'm going to get a boob job," or "I feel like getting a chin implant," just punch me, okay?  I mean, neither of those things was going to come out of my mouth anyway - let's be honest.  But just in case.  Punch me.  Hard.  And say things like, "Catheter."  "Peeing yourself."  "Dripping bag."  That ought to bring back some pretty fierce PTSD moments and snap me out of it.

I think it says something for how terrible surgery is that here I am, ONE WEEK after surgery, just NOW barely lucid enough and un-nauseated enough to sit at a computer.  For now.  If I don't finish a sentence at the end of this post, you'll know why...I ran to the bathroom.  To try not to throw up, because throwing up really hurts my stitches.

Kay, so here I was, almost one week ago, in the "holding area:"

They had the coolest hospital gowns there.  They're hooked up to these awesome heaters in the wall.  They get all poofy and completely surround you with warm goodness.  Can I get one of those in my house??  They were also fun because they made my boobs look really big.

I had a nurse-anesthetist put me under, and I assured him that I was "okay with that," because that is exactly what my brilliant sis, Beads, is going to be in just one month!!  He seemed surprised that I knew what a nurse anesthetist was.  I don't remember counting backwards or anything.

Oooh, but I do remember my phlebotomist doing a really, really horrible job.  I have this girl who is my favorite phlebotomist, and I seriously wish I could pay her to be part of my entourage.  Then, if I ever needed blood drawn, boom.  She could do it.  And not leave me with a bruise on my arm one week later.  After Bad Phlebotomist left, Ben said, "I'm so sorry.  She used to work at the plasma center.  She was the worst one there."  Dang.

When I woke up from surgery, I felt great.  I slept a lot that day.  They wouldn't let me drink anything or even suck on ice chips or anything, which I was pissed about.  My mouth felt so dry.  One nurse finally took pity on me and let me suck on lifesavers.

I thiiiink my parents and my friend Megs came to visit me that day?  Not sure, seriously.  I'm sure I sounded ridiculous.  One of my favorite things is making fun of family members when they've had surgery and are stoned in the hospital.  So I'm sure my friends and family members have had a good time with that.

That first day, our goal was to have me sit up and stand up.  I reached that goal, and it exhausted me for the rest of the day.  I kid you not.  I fell into a stoned stupor for the rest of the day and night.  My cute nurses would wake me up to do stats and give me pain shots (the sites of which are still really sore), and that was it.

The second day, I had to go on four walks.  The walks could include trying to use the bathroom.  You see, I had to re-potty train myself.  When you get this burch bladder pin thing, they set up a catheter that comes through your skin above your pubis.  You clamp it, let your bladder fill up for a couple of hours, then go try to pee.  Then you unclamp your catheter, and the rest that you couldn't pee out, comes into that catheter and into a bag.

Oh, how I hated that catheter.

It was stitched very painfully and tightly.  If the bag got bumped, that area of my skin stung so badly.  Same with my "drainer of gross surgery liquids" catheter that was a couple of inches away.  So much pain.

Some people graduate from the catheter and get to go home without it.  Not me.  I didn't get that dang thing out until Monday, people.  Nightmare.

I had a ton of visitors that second day.  Maybe 8?  It was great.  And I slept in between.  And I graduated to "clear fluids" that day.  Broth, jello, apple juice....I wolfed it all down.  Or, I guess the better phrase would be, "I lapped it all up."  I was allowed coke that day.  So all was well.

The third day, I just worked more on potty training and sleeping and just really enjoying my time.  Seriously, Ben didn't bring the kids the whole time I was there, and I was sooo okay with that.  And that day, I got to start eating solids. Ben brought me some bean burritos, which was awesome.  I got to go home that evening:

And look at the cuteness that was waiting for me when I got home:

Welcome Home signs from Dylan and Sadie.

 Along with some really great works of art using my "every holiday you could ever celebrate" stamps.

 Micah and Sadie did these for me.  I've now been officially wished a Happy Hannukah, Happy New Year, everything...

Oh, and look at my welcome-home gift from Ben:

A stackable unit for my kitchen!  It's much, much needed.  I'm thinking of moving it over to that out-of-the-way corner, though.  It makes the kitchen a little shadowey where it is right now.  We'll see.

Ben took great care of me and the kids all weekend.  Dylan has a small TV in his bedroom where he can play Wii.  Apparently, he got grounded from the Wii, so Ben set up an extra cable box down in my bedroom and brought Dylan's TV down.  So I can watch TV down there whenever I want! And he kept the kids out of my hair so that I could be in pain and stoned all by myself.  I worked on potty training and got caught up on all of the episodes of "Love it or List It" that I could ever want.

I finally sufficiently potty-trained myself enough that I was able to get my catheter and blood-letting thingey (?) out on Monday, and dude.  No numbing shot.  The doctor and nurse just ripped those stitches out and then rrrripped those things out of my body.  After I sufficiently recovered (I blacked out, my ears started ringing, and I almost threw up), I was pretty pissed about it.  I mean, where is the bedside manner???  Where is the care??

So then we drive home, and the doctor had failed to let us know that the extra pee from this gaping hole that he didn't bother stitching back up or anything would just overflow all over me in the car seat.  In essence, I peed all over myself.   As Adam Sandler would say, "Peeing your pants is the coolest." Mom brought me over some Depends.  I am a fan.

I really thought I had reached the lowest of the low when I peed all over my nurse when I was in labor with Dylan, but this may have beat the Most Humiliating Peeing Incident Record.  Peeing myself in the car and having to wear Depends for awhile.

My sis, Lex, and my mom have been taking care of us each day this week while Ben has been at work.  My mom brought Fancy Nancy paper dolls for Sadie, Lincoln Logs for Dylan, and a Memory-type game for Micah.  And today she was especially brave and brought play-doh.  Lex would have her "shift" in the mornings, and she was so adorable.  Yesterday, when I woke up, a meal supplement shake, scrambled eggs, and toast were waiting for me on my nightstand.  A couple of hours later, I saw my cell phone resting by my hand.  It was like a little fairy came in and bestowed the things I needed while I slept.

Last night I felt really, really horrible.  I didn't eat much for dinner, so I think maybe that's what happened?  More ear-ringing, blacking out, and nausea.  I was alarmed and really really cold and scared.  But I slept all night and seriously ALL DAY LONG, and I feel awesome right now.  I'm going to actually go hang out with my kids while my hubby makes Thanksgiving pies and yams.  The man does everything.  He's the greatest.