Unhelpful Surgical Staff and Surgical Complications, part deux

The day after I had my gallbladder surgically removed I started having complications. Off to the surgeon we went, hi ho, hi ho.  A quick visit later I had fresh clean bandages (yay me!), and an assurance that my stitches hadn't popped.  Rather, I'd developed a small acute hematoma that had leaked out, and now I would have a more colorful belly whilst I was recuperating.  Yay me!

So, like a good patient, I took my medications as required, and after the first two or three days of sharp, searing pain from having been stabbed four times, I started to feel much better.  No more gallbladder pain.  No more stabbing pain.  Everything was moving along splendidly.  Until it wasn't.

Complications from surgery happen a lot more often than I think people realize.  I must say it certainly  surprised me.  Several days after I'd stopped taking the medications, I started having difficulty sitting up.  Standing was fine.  Laying down great.  But if I tried to sit up, it felt a bit like there was a very hard baseball just under the skin of my belly button cave, right above my hernia scar tissue.

Hi ho,  hi  ho, back to the surgeon we went.  Five minutes later my surgeon scheduled me for an ultrasound.  And first thing the next morning my surgeon called me (!) to confirm that my little tiny hematoma had been growing on the inside.

Hi ho, hi ho, back to the surgeon we went.  This time, he injected my belly button cave with lidocaine (which didn't hurt, despite his warnings.  Hello?  I've endured two hideous foot breaks.  I've suffered through countless cortisone shots.  I've given birth without drugs.  Lidocaine in the belly button cave?  No biggie!).  He then, however, introduced *THE NEEDLE.*  I swear it was the size of a pterodactyl beak.  Good Grief it was ginormous!!!  After shoving that sucker into my belly button cave, he was only able to suck out 1 cc of fluid.  Sigh.

Hi ho, hi ho, back to surgery I went.  The next day I found myself in the surgical pre-op waiting room, spending hours listing all my medications and getting the IV inserted (*in my hand,* which still had bruising from the surgery I had 10 days before.  And which evidently didn't reallllly get inserted properly, which I found out later when they tried to inject my go-to-sleep medications, and Yowza!!!  I sat there listening to my heart rate skyrocket on the monitors in the operating room while the pain meds hurt so very, very much going in, and took forever to take effect.  I had bruising in my hand for a full two weeks afterwards.  But alas, I digress.).  The rest of the time we generally just sat around waiting around for my surgeon to arrive.  Then it was time to go, so off we went.

So this time, having had such an amusing experience in the operating room just ten days before (even if I didn't get a Dyslexic Zorro scar, much to my chagrin), I decided to introduce myself to my surgical staff.  Thought we could have a little fun.  I even sang them the hematoma song.  It's sung to the tune of "The Lion Sleeps Tonight."  I prefer The Nylons' version of the song.  You can find it here:

I changed a few of the words to make it work, but it goes something like this:

"In the belly, the fat, fat belly, the hematoma grows tonight.
Oh in the belly, the fat, fat belly, the hematoma grows tonight.
A hematoma, hematoma, hematoma, hematoma, hematoma, hematoma, hematoma, hematoma…"

So the surgical nurse cracks up, the anesthesiologist cracks up, there is generally snickering all through the freezing cold operating room, and I'm feeling pretty confident that I've got a great group of folks who are going to take care of me in this hematoma-ectomy.

So the anesthesiologist was having a few problems setting things up -- a machine wasn't working, some cords were all tangled up, things weren't going smoothly for her.  She seemed a bit flustered, but things finally cleared up, and the surgical nurse standing next to me asked me what I was in here for.  So I said, "Liposcution and a tummy tuck!"  Snickers all around.  I smiled at myself, thinking I was being cute, funny, and charming. I'd blame it on all the good drugs they'd injected me with, but I hadn't been given any yet.

In a stern voice worthy of a drill sergeant, the surgical nurse barked, "Ma'am, seriously.  I need to know why you are here today."

I turned to her, and enunciating as well as I could I said, "Li-po-suc-tion and a tum-my tuck."

Two of the nurses laughed out loud, and I swear my surgeon snorted.

"Ma'am, I need you to be serious now."

So I said, "I am serious.  I asked him to do liposuction when he was removing my gallbladder last week, and look at the terrible job he did!"  I wiggled my big belly around with my one non-strapped down hand.  "I'm so disappointed."  I turned to my surgeon and smiled and said, "Seriously?  You didn't suck out enough fat!"  He laughed.

Ms. Drill Sergeant was not amused.

For the third time, "Ma'am.  This is for the record.  I need you to tell me why you are really here."

So in the most serious voice I could muster, I told her, "I'm here to have a hematoma removed from my belly, immediately above my hernia scar."

"And how did you get the hematoma?"

I turned to my surgeon and pointed at him.  "He gave it to me!"

I'm not sure, but I think Ms. Drill Sergeant swallowed a brick.  My surgeon, however, laughed.

Ms. Drill Sergeant's face had grown into a what would have been a lovely shade of mauve, had it been on oh, say, a throw pillow.  But on her face?  Well, let's just say it wasn't as flattering.  "Ma'am?"

"He stabbed me four times last week, and I ended up with a hematoma right above my belly button cave!"

This time I think the brick came out the other side.  "Ma'am!!!!!!"

Okay, so I know when I'm in trouble.  I got in enough trouble as a kid.  You can tell it's bad when you get shivers, and the little hairs on your arms start standing up.  I know it was colder than Alaska in January in the operating room, but still.  I'd gone too far.

So I sobered up and recited in my most serious and proper voice, "During a routine laparoscopic cholecystectomy last week, my surgeon also repaired a pre-existing umbilical hernia. I developed a small hematoma the day immediately following the surgery.  The acute hematoma was treated by repacking the wound.  The hematoma continued to bleed internally, however, and today my surgeon will surgically remove the subacute hematoma, slicing through the same incision in the umbilicus."

There was a very long, awkward pause.

She cleared her voice and said, "Fine."

Party pooper.

Just for that, I started singing, "Hematoma, hematoma…" under my breath until the anesthesiologist started chuckling again.

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