Oh, the drama.
I admit, freely and without reservation, that I have been a complete and utter nut-case since the laparoscopy. Just ask My Beloved (I'm sure he would be utterly thrilled to have a good old fashioned vent about me right about now...).
The thing of it is, after my c-section with Thomas I developed septicemia - a blood infection - and was very sick. I responded really well to antibiotics and the IV blood pressure medication they gave me the night things went to hell in a hand-basket (as far as my post-op health was concerned, anyway), and I recovered quickly and was discharged four days after the drama, but it has left me a wee bit, well, insane.
Every little cut - every scratch - brings with it the fear of that night in my hospital room.
And yes, for what it's worth I know it's insane. But I think I've focussed so much of my energy on surviving losing Thomas that I haven't really given enough energy to coming to terms with the scary things that happened to me.
Which brings us to this past weekend when I was convinced that I was going to develop another blood infection. No amount of reassurance from My increasingly frustrated Beloved was able to completely ease my fears. Only when I passed the two days post-operative mark (which is when the infection made itself known after the c-section) did I relax a little bit.
Until this morning when I noticed that the previously excellent looking bellybutton incision was gaping a little on one side. Maybe a 16th of an inch. It wasn't red. It wasn't pus-filled. It was just a little open.
And so of course, I called the hospital. That's a perfectly reasonable thing to do for a 16th of an inch hole in your body, right?
Shut up. It is.
Anyway, the reasonably patient nurse suggested I call my OB. My kind and very patient OB passed along a reassuring message through his nurse that all would almost certainly be well. All I have to do is flush out the wound with hydrogen peroxide 3 - 4 times per day to keep it clean and it should re-close on it own.
Well, mostly. I'll be much happier when I see that little hole closed up tight as a drum.
It really is amazing how deep those invisible scars are, huh?
The other amazing thing is that My Beloved still actually wants to come home to me everyday. Yes, even today when the focus of virtually all of our e-mail correspondence and telephone chats has been my bellybutton.
This must be love.