I want to share the experience of these because there were a couple things I went through that I would liked to have known about ahead of time. Hopefully this info can help someone who needs it.
I had my first Laparoscopy, D&C and Septum resection for my bicornuate uterus in June of 2013. That procedure pretty much went off without a hitch. Of course I was terrified in the days leading up to it because I am a frightened diaper baby. I was a little sore after but slept all the way through to the next day when I felt much better. The doctor put a balloon filled with saline in my uterus to hold the walls of it apart until they healed so they wouldn’t grow together, which is pretty standard I believe. That wasn’t a problem either. Sometimes I swear I could feel it sloshing around in there, but I think that was just my imagination.
Getting the balloon out wasn’t a huge deal, but I hated it. Anytime a speculum comes out, I’m instantly in tears. I don’t know if I’m just super sensitive down there or what, but that is seriously torture. After all the things I’ve beed through medically in my life, and it’s a lot, I can’t believe how excruciating that is for me. It just feels wrong, wrong, wrong, so I tense up, and those muscles are strong! I must be the Arnold Schwarzenegger of kegel muscles. Anyway, once the speculum was in, the balloon was out almost instantly and it was over. I felt none of that.
My doctor had warned me that there was a slight chance some of the uterine septum could grow back, and for me it did. So I had another resection in September of 2013. Again, the doctor put in a ballon, and again I felt just sore but groggy immediately after. I started to get really antsy after I woke up and I asked if it was ok if I went home. They gave me some more pain meds and released me to my husband.
As we started to drive home, I became increasingly more uncomfortable. We only live about 15 minutes from the surgery center, and by the time we got home, I was in more pain than I have ever felt in my life! I laid down on the floor of our bedroom in the fetal position and groaned and cried until that turned into screams. The pain just kept getting worse and worse. My husband left immediately to go fill the pain prescription for me, and I swear he was back in 30 seconds. At this point I was on the toilet, I couldn’t even tell where exactly the pain was coming from, but my subconscious was telling me I needed to push it out. So, I tried to poop. Pushing would relieve the tiniest bit of pain for a second, and then it came back, much much worse! I took the pain pill, it did nothing. I can’t even explain to you what this felt like.
At this point my husband is almost in tears, he has no idea what to do for me. He called the surgery center and told them what was happening and they were clueless. They told him to bring me back in, which he relayed to me right there while still on the phone. I think my response was something dignified like “There’s no FUCKING WAY!” as my head spun all the way around. They called in a much stronger dose of pain meds for me, and again my husband flew there and back in no time delivering them to me. These also did absolutely nothing.
It had only been about 2 hours since I left the surgery center, but it felt like 5 days. I think there’s something about not knowing why the hell you’re in pain that makes it a million times worse. I think if the nurse would have even said, “Oh, ok, that’s just her uterus falling out.” I would have felt a little better. But instead she said something much worse, “I’m sorry, we won’t know what’s wrong with her unless you bring her back in.”
My poor husband. He has no training in handling wild animals, nor did he study the art of exorcism. He was completely unprepared for dealing with me. Getting me down the stairs and into the car was like a scene from Jurassic Park where they try to corral the raptors back into the cage. Putting a seatbelt on me was not happening. At that point I was kind of hoping we would go careening off a large cliff in a fiery death. I rode pretty much on my back with both feet pressed firmly against the windshield doing lamaze the whole way.
The scene at the hospital did not get much prettier. I was literally begging the nurses to help me, mixed in with a lot of screaming at them. Within seconds I was back in the surgery prep room wearing that piece of Kleenex they call a hospital gown. They gave me a shot of Demerol while a second nurse searched for one of my shitty veins to put an IV in my arm. “This is going to pinch a little,” the first nurse said sounding nervous but sweet. At this point everyone there was afraid of me. I turned to her as flames shot out of my eyes and my voice dropped 6 octaves, “GIVE ME FUCKING NINE OF THEM.”
The adorable, sweet and VERY soft spoken anesthesiologist came over to ask me a few questions, the poor man. He was very shortly joined by my doctor. They stepped aside to converse for a moment and I could tell they were still a little baffled. I decided I had to take matters into my own hands now and it was time to push again.
I stood up, grabbed my IV bag stand, and booked it for the bathroom with my gown flapping in the breeze. The nurses shouted after me to please wait for them, but I did not. My bare butt exposed to them, the doctors, and about 5 patients and their families I charged for the bathroom, sat on the toilet, door open wide for my adoring audience, and tried once more to poop.
This, of course, did nothing. The door remained open as nurses came flooding in. I sat hunched over, rocking, holding my face in my hands. Finally they got me back in the bed and wheeled me into the surgery room. The doctor put in a speculum, at this point not even that could phase me, and he pulled out the balloon. And just like that, it was over. The pain was completely gone.
And here I am doped up on more drugs than Courtney Love at the VMAs. I looked around the room at these people I had terrorized and felt awful for about 1 second until all the endorphins kicked in. Then I felt WONDERFUL.
Apparently, the second time around, the balloon had sent me into advanced labor! That on a freshly wounded uterus, with no build up and not knowing what was happening, it was terrible. At least it explains why my subconscious was telling me to push. I didn’t need to poop, my body was trying to birth a balloon!
Anyway, I say this not to scare anyone that’s going to have the procedure. My advice is that you stay there for as long as they will let you to make sure that your body is reacting ok to the balloon before you leave. And if this crazy pain starts for you, at least you can tell them right away it might be the balloon and it can hopefully save you from the hours of pain I went through. Literally the second the balloon came out, my pain dropped to zero, and it only takes a second.