After the Embo

The days after the embolism seemed to just get better and better. I was working out just a week or so after my return home. As much because of continued jet-lag made more complex by narcotics. I was off narcotic pain killers quickly. I hated them -- I contend that rather than taking away pain, they just make you too stupid to complain. My hiking, clot naming friend came and nursed me and fed my kids and behaved like the family that she is. A nurse called me every couple days post-op. I had had an argument on the phone with a family member the day after my surgery. The nurse said "there are only two kinds of people in your life when you are in recovery -- those who are part of the solution that is your recovery and those who are a challenge to it, and may even be part of a problem that is the reason you are recovering... you don't have to apologize to the later; just avoid them until you are recovered and strong and able". It gave me permission to snuggle with my kids and watch television. It gave me permission to not answer the phone. It gave me permission to say yes when help was offered and no when demands were made. Some of the best medicine can be administered over the phone.

I tried eating some meat, but that was slow going. It was hard to digest. I went little by little. I was working out again. I resolved the long distance conflict with my extended family. I learned to demand some of my rights, so to speak. I embraced the possibility of more challenging work. I talked with my daughter, about pain, about being a woman, about how much having a baby, having her, had been worth the pain, and listened to her thoughts and fears and anger. This thing had taken me away from her at times. It hurt the people around me.

My first period after the embolism was a revelation. Gloriously lacking in eruptive mess. No clots. No serious cramping. I felt out of the woods. I had done the right thing. It's true of course, I had, but I wasn't prepared for what was just around the corner.

Three months after the embo, though no longer in fear of blood loss, I started to have pain again. Cramping. Painful and intense and rhythmic. At first I tried to wave it off. I tolerated it for about 2 months. Then I called my Embo guy. He referred me to two doctors; a GI guy, and another OB/GYN. GI guy first, lots of fun. I had gained a little weight, but I was definitely having some GI issues, just not sure why. He recommended a high fiber diet to help with elimination and talked about the effects of narcotics of the digestive system. You should have seen that waiting room -- not happy people.

Then I met this new OB/GYN. A new chapter begins.