-- by Randy
So Holly slept in her own bed last night and it is a pretty happy day today. I'm happy. The Dog Fairies are happy. At some point we should begin to hear from the patient herself and her side of the experience.
We still haven't gotten any information about the kidneys so we have to wait a little longer on that. However, from the time she was weighed minutes before surgery to now, Holly's lost 15 pounds! That's a "so far" weight -- after spending days on continual IV fluids, her tissues will probably keep throwing off water for up to a week after she gets home.
-----------Holly, later--------
Getting home was so great. It's easy to forget when you're well that being able to sleep when you're tired, drink when you're thirsty and eat when you're hungry are so essential.
Yesterday, when I got home, I called my transplant coordinator, who admitted she'd panicked a little when she saw the call come in so soon after discharge. I just wanted to get clear with her on when I should have labs and where.
I then told her I'd only had a pain pill to nap that day. "I can't believe it," she said. "I just can't believe it."
Well, there's my theory that I heal like a dog -- a couple days down and then you've gotta keep up with the other predators. I've told several RNs this theory and not had any argument.
Meanwhile, I only found out tonight that, as Randy puts it, "they had to unzip your large intestine from your abdominal wall." No wonder it took from Wednesday night to Monday morning to be able to eat oatmeal!
I notice this when I've been "vertical" -- walking or sitting up -- for a while, then go to bed and try to lie on my side. I can feel things slowly sliding downhill in there. It's not painful, but unnerving enough that I switch to my back.
I still have some kind of echoing pain in my lower left back, from the place I assume that kidney was pressing on a nerve. But the regular dull ache is gone. It actually surprises me sometimes -- hey! No kidney pain!
As I left work, I told the folks there this should put a stop to the grunting and groaning coming from my chair at random times during the day. "That's good," my staff writer said. "When that happens, I always assume it's because you're reading one of my stories."
The fact it'll also stop my mutting "Damn kidneys" as I stop midstep and hop around on one foot as I pull the other knee to my chest should probably go unspoken.
