VATS pleurectomy: Day four post-op

Friday 15th May 2015
Recovery from a pleurectomy and bullectomy to treat reoccurring spontaneous pneumothorax.

Wow...Backache

After finally settling down to get some sleep in a comfy position, I apparently slept through the night soundly. The nurses must have been thrilled that I was no longer buzzing them every 10 minutes throughout the night. It was about 5:30am when I woke up and I felt more awake than I had in a long while. Deciding that laying in bed for longer than necessary would do me no good, I got up and had an early morning stroll of the ward. 

I walked past the nurses station and spoke of my excitement at not having had to buzz them even once all night. They acted like it was no big deal but you could see the relief on their faces that that had been the case.

I'm not sure what I was expecting from this morning stroll but it turned out to be quite boring. There wasn't much to see as all the lights were off and I soon became quite bored. I also began to realise that my back was in pain due to lying in one position for so long. I've always had back problems and so recognise the symptoms well. In fact I think of it as a blessing in disguise really at the moment. I am far more aware as to just how much pain can be referred to the chest from the back and ribs and therefore am less inclined to panic that my lung has collapsed every time I get a twinge. 

At the time I was not thinking like this however. It was once again agony and I found that I spent the rest of the morning moving from the bed to the chair and up onto my feet. I was in so much pain that I couldn't even manage to eat much of my breakfast, purely because I couldn't sit there to eat it. I put on the TV and tried to take my mind off things and due to the time of day ended up watching a place in the sun with as much interest as I could possibly muster for something so dull. 

The wait

I was told yesterday that I would be needing an x-ray before going home to ensure that the small amount of air above my lung had either gone down or at least stayed the same. I had spent the night and also a lot of this morning doing the breathing exercises to try and ensure the scan would come back OK. I was relieved to find that it had actually improved since going to bed :)
During morning observations I was told that my X-ray would be booked as soon as possible. Likely I would get it before 11. Great I thought, if it's OK I can go. I went to my locker to start packing and then realised I didn't have the strength, so sat back down to more TV. 

As the hours wore on and 11 came and went I began to feel quite down. I kept being told I would be going home, but the progress seemed so slow. I had even been told that all my prescriptions had been sorted the day before so I could be out in the morning. But still no x-ray. On top of this I was still constipated...my stomach was as hard as a rock, and this just made my back ache even worse. It became agonising. I asked for more painkillers but was told I had to wait, I'm not sure they were doing all that much anyway. 

Movicol

In the end I was given Movicol to help with my digestion, however this then led to a hold up later in the day with my prescriptions, as it was yet another item to add to the list of what I need to take home! 

X-ray...finally!!

Eventually I had my X-Ray at around 1:00pm (only two hours late, but felt like forever!). This time I was asked to walk to the X-Ray department rather than have it at my bedside. It wasn't far and it was nice to get up and walk. Within about 20 minutes I was told that the X-Ray had improved and I could go home :) Wooo!!! I rang the boyfriend and the family to let them know and they had arrived by 1:40pm. 
But then we had to wait for the meds....and wait we did! It took ages, but I was later informed this was due to the fact that it was a Friday and they twice as busy having to organise meds for those leaving today and Saturday as the pharmacy is closed on weekends. 

What made me laugh/was a little worrying in terms of staff communication, was the number of people who came to tell me I could go home after 1:20. It was as though each person who came to tell me (a nurse, another nurse, a doctor, a surgeon) thought they were handing me the news for the first time. I sat there just thinking 'I know! Can you stop telling me this and actually do something to let me go please!'

Numbness

One of those surgeons that came to deliver me the good news asked how my arm was doing after the removal of the chest drain. I told him it had not improved and that my armpit and the majority of the underside of my arm the wholew ay down was still numb. His reaction was the same as every other doctor or surgeon I had mentioned this to previously, a brief look of confusion (i assume I am not supposed to notice this), and then the usual phrase "not to worry, it should come back over time, it happens sometimes." I have since done some reading of my own and spoken to others in my situation. I am well aware that this could take a while to get better, but I would have appreciated this honesty from the doctors. I would also like to have been informed what I could expect during the healing process, as at the moment I suffer with sharp pains, tingling, weakness and high skin sensitivity. Had it not been for the internet I would likely be back in hospital thinking something was very wrong with my arm. 

Hometime

So at last the time came to go home, I was given a lovely green bag filled with medications, spare dressings and the wonderful stockings that I would have to wear for 4 weeks! 
I sat in the car feeling quite strange, it was odd to be outside and my back and chest felt at a funny angle for breathing in the car seat. I managed to adjust the seat with help to a more upright position as this was what I was used to and we set off. My mum drove with care, but even so the roundabouts were unpleasant to go around and braking and accelerating applied pressure which felt uncomfortable. Soon enough I was home though and it was nice to see my room again and try and get comfy.