I haven’t posted here in quite a while – deliberately, for the most part. It was actually very relaxing to not have to worry about coming up with words when I didn’t feel them. But that doesn’t mean that things stopped. Here are the highlights.
I spent the last 18 months working as chair of my national association’s annual meeting & conference. It was lots of fun but at the same time, an enormous amount of work at a time when I was moving into and learning my new position at my paying job. Everything came to fruition at the annual conference in Philadelphia in July.
It was wonderful! Simply wonderful. Everything I had worked and hoped for came together in what I’ve heard some people call the best educational programming in years. Our meeting had no theme, just the best programs we could put together, and I think that not having a theme actually worked in our favor. Poster sessions were a part of the meeting for the first time, a suggestion made by one of my committee.
And our keynote speaker, Dahlia Lithwick, was a breath of fresh air. Instead of starting in by telling us how much she likes libraries and librarians, she launched into an animated, insightful, and humorous address about the Supreme Court and freedom of speech, both within the Court itself, between the Court and the press, and on recent decisions. We’re law librarians – talk to us about the law! She did and it was great.
A month ago, after three months of mild to growing concern and discussions with the plastic surgeon’s office, I finally learned that those funny lumpy hard places on my left incision line were actually abscesses from popped stitches.
How did I learn this, you ask? By ignoring the “you’re still getting used to your ‘new normal’ post-op body” messages from the plastics’ office and going to the university’s Acute Care center when I noticed blisters were forming. I left with strong antibiotics, instructions to apply warm moist compresses, and to return in 2 days. By then the abscesses had started draining. They actually still are, a little bit.
I did go back to see the surgeon’s office with a sort of “screw you” message: I told people for months something was wrong, and no one listened to me – and look, there was a problem.
Not only did I have abscesses, it seems I also had been harboring an infection in my lapband port area for almost three months. I’d reported a swollen belly several times to the plastics people but heard back that “it’s your new normal” thing that I was starting to hate.
When I lay down in bed and ran a hand over my tummy, there was a visible and tangible lump where the lapband port was. But stupid me assumed that post-op my port was just closer to the surface and therefore more noticeable. However, when I got to Philly and saw myself in passing in one of those hotel mirrors, it looked as though I had a second belly button: the area around the port had swollen up around it.
Something was clearly wrong, and at the urging of a friend, I called the lapband doctor from Philly. They wanted me to come in the next day which was impossible since, uh, I was in Philly. But I was in the office the following Monday morning. The surgeon took one look at it, and at me, and said, you are having surgery tomorrow.
However we sliced it, the lapband port had to be removed. The entire band & tubes might have needed removal as well, if an endoscopy showed them to be eroded. I was lucky and it was just the area around the port that was infected – and it was badly infected. The doctor told me they removed about 1/2 cup of drainage along with the port.
I now have an open wound in my belly about 1.5 inches wide and 1.5 inches deep. It has to heal from the inside out so I have home nursing care to do wound care & change the dressing every day until the wound doesn’t need to be packed anymore. It’s sore and tender and I was out of work for another week post-op. Not in the plans but necessary, I know.
I am responsible for the whole me, who knows when something is or feels off. Just talking to a doctor or doctor’s staff doesn’t mean they are looking at orfor the same things that concern me. If I feel ignored or simply want another opinion, find another doctor and ask – even if it’s back to the primary care doctor who sent me to these people in the first place.