Okay, here is a long and hopefully not too convoluted post about my recent experiences with the hemmoroid surgery (plus I have nothing better to do while I am on bed rest). Here is a new twist to the sad saga I find myself embroiled in: it turns out I seem to have been labeled a "difficult patient who is seeking opiod drugs." That is making me so spitting mad on top of the physical pain I am in.
A timeline:
Last Thursday was the surgery. They sent me home with 5mg Oxy-325 Tylenol, otherwise known as Percocet, plus the usual post-op instructions, which included alternating Ibuprofen and Tylenol in between the Oxy dose, lots of Sitz baths, Metamucil and stool softeners.
I followed all instructions, but by Friday night I was in such dire pain I end up in the ER. They gave me a shot of Dilaudid and a prescription for 10mg-325 Tylenol. The higher dose helps somewhat but I still unbelievable amounts of pain, which involve (and continue to involve) uncontrollable screaming and sobbing while on the toilet and crawling in and out of a warm bath to try to ease things up. Sometimes I practically pass out from the pain and see spots in my vision. I have probably done this cycle 25 times in the last 48 hours. I called the on-call doctor over the weekend to see if they had any more advice. He said to try adding Magensium Citrate to my regime to help things along (I have religiously been drinking my Metamucil and taking stool softeners and drinking as much water as I can). Meanwhile my appetite is plummeting so I am barely eating because I don't want to add more food I need to digest to everything that I am somehow going to have to pass. Sorry for the TMI here). On call Doctor (not my surgeon) said it is a notoriously painful surgery and you just have to "get through it." So I manage somehow all day Sunday, by Monday I wanted to see my surgeon to make sure nothing was wrong so they got me in for an appointment yesterday afternoon. Mind you, logistics where I live is always a problem - with phones, with getting messages, getting someone to drive me into town, etc. It requires planning.
I saw the surgeon yesterday and she said the surgical site is fine and everything was "normal"; she told me to stop everything in my life and do bed rest (which is pretty much what I am reduced to anyway at this point. I can't leave the house, can barely stand up and move around for more than 15 minutes). She reiterated again that everything was "normal" and it is a notoriously difficult and painful recovery. I mentioned that I missed one dose of the Oxy because I was afraid that it was part of the cause of the constipation and I was going to try to start using less of it. She said don't worry about that since I am taking all the stuff to combat the constipation that often occurs when taking it. So I agreed to try the Miralax she recommended and left there with my friend who drove me into town. We went to a Walgreen's on the way out of town so I could pick up the Miralax. My friend asked if they had given me a new prescription because I will run out of the pain meds in a few days - they hadn't, and since we live so far away I called the office back to see if we could go back and pick it up the prescription (that is the only way to get pain meds anymore - a written prescription that you hand deliver to the pharmacy) I could get it filled now because I will run out over the weekend and it is a 60 mile round trip to go to the pharmacy. They agreed, so we went back down the street to the office to pick it up.
We then dropped it off at my CVS where I get all my prescriptions filled and instead of waiting for an hour, my friend needed to eat lunch so we left for a bit. By this time I am already in a lot of pain just being in the car; I can barely sit on the donut cushion and have to have the seat reclined all the way back). When we got back to CVS they said they couldn't fill it because I still had the prescriptions from the surgery and the ER. So much for trying to be efficient, so we left. I do completely understand that they are trying to crack down on prescription abuse.
By the time I got home from Santa Fe, I had a nightmarish three or four hours of alternately sitting on the toilet screaming and crying, then lying in a hot bath. Must have done that regime at least six to eight times. By midnight, I was so completely exhausted, spent and miserable I took an Oxy 10 and an Oxy 5, so for about two hours I was on somewhat on top of the pain, getting a little much-needed relief. I was lying in the dark with my phone and came across a website called "hemmoroidectomy surgery stories" and came across a whole slew of people, for whatever reason, did not tolerate the surgery well at all, and every single one of their symptoms matched what I have been experiencing exactly. So I am not the only one who is having a completely horrible time. I should add here that my surgeon said yesterday that she has never had a patient have such a difficult time with this than me.
So by this morning my boyfriend (who has been taking great care of me) is really pissed at the surgeon for lack of better aftercare from the surgery (I get the feeling that after she's done the cutting, everything else is someone else's responsibility, hence me having to go to the ER to get better pain relief because everything is supposedly "normal." So the BF called the doctor office this morning to tell them how difficult this has been for me, having me screaming and sobbing in pain, getting weaker and more exhausted, not eating, feeling like I am dying all because I need to take a dump and can't. Apparently the physician assistant (because the surgeon won't talk to us) told him I was non-compliant about taking the meds (all because of the one dose I didn't take because of my worry about constipation???) and that I had tried to take yesterday's new prescription and get it filled at several different pharmacies (which is a complete and outright LIE - my friend who drove me can back that up, as we only went to my usual CVS).
All they could offer to help me was to tell me to go back to the ER if it is that bad, thereby absolving themselves of the responsibility of treating my pain. In a perfect world, this is what I want: enough pain killer so they can do an enema and get me cleaned out without me passing out from the pain. That is really all I want. When I am in the thick of the pain I could see how dying would be a nice alternative, it's that bad.