Monday morning my nurse was Tamara. She was an importantly strict nurse. She made me get up and walk. She pulled out my epidural first thing (after 3 days!), and then we practiced sitting up. I couldn’t believe how much energy it took. I seriously wanted to pass out just from sitting up. She told me by the end of the day I was going to walk to the bathroom. Maybe I would even get a shower. As soon as I could walk to the bathroom without passing out, we could take my catheter out.
Tamara and me, sitting up.
My epidural. I wanted Nate to take a picture of it so I could see what it looked like since this will be the only one I ever have.
Spinal taps from here on out, baby(s)!
Several hours later, when I first stood up.
I kept closing my eyes and putting my head down.
I think I thought, “maybe I’ll just take a little nap to get some energy, then keep standing up.”
But Tamara wouldn’t let me, she kept saying, “EYES OPEN, HEAD UP!!”
So importantly bossy… good nurse.
By the end of Tamara’s shift I hadn’t made it to the bathroom, but I had walked about 10-15 steps, and climbed back into bed. It was a workout!
I managed to walk to the bathroom that night, but Keisha (the night nurse) wasn’t as bossy and only made me do it once. The next morning I practiced more and felt good enough to finally get my catheter out. By Tuesday afternoon I was out of bed and sitting in a chair!
(Exhausted from walking the 6 steps to the chair!)
Tuesday afternoon I walked to the bathroom and Nate gave me a shower! It felt so good.
(By the way, I use ‘walk’ very liberally. It’s more half walking/half being carried by Nate.)
Post-shower. Feeling clean!
(And wiped out!)
The incentive to use this is not having your lungs collapse.
It was perfect timing too, because Tuesday night was Christmas Eve.