7 Days Post-Op

I didn't feel up to writing at only 7 days post-op, so most of this is written in retrospect. I will try to be as accurate as I can.

In ICU
I don't remember much from the first few days post-op. I was heavily sedated and slept A LOT I do remember the first time I looked down at my new penis and thought, wow that looks pretty good and kinda plastic-like. It looked a little fake. I think this was due to the fact that my body had been shaved from my belly button to my knees and my skin was tinged a bit yellow from whatever they put on me from surgery. It didn't look like my normal skin, and because of that, it didn't really look like it was my body. Granted, I think the heavy duty narcotics played a role in this semi-dissociative feeling as well.

I remember having waves of serious pain in the ICU and the nurses were on top of it. It's kinda funny, actually. I was hooked up to an IV that would administer pain medication at the push of a button. Of course, the button could only be legitimately pushed once every several minutes to keep you from overdosing. If it was "too early" and I pushed the button, the machine would beep several times. If not, it would just beep once and administer the drug. At one point I was soooooo out of it and in pain, I kept pushing the button over and over again (with the subsequent multiple beeps in response), but in my mind all of this time was passing in between each push. I literally thought that I was pushing the button and waiting several minutes, then trying again. Nope, I was pushing it over and over again. At some point, a nurse got on the intercom and told me to stop it. Hahaha.

I was also incredibly thirsty. They don't let you drink any water for at least 12-24 hours after surgery in the event that you need to be rushed back in. And, after not being able to drink for several hours before surgery that leaves you in a state of incredible thirst. I've never felt that thirsty before in my life. Their fix was taking this sponge on a stick, dipping it in icy water, and wetting the inside of your mouth, gums, and lips with it. It was "flavored" and I use that word generously because it was gross. I'm sure that some people like the berry? flavor, but I didn't. Yuck. Eventually, I got to drink water and I was pounding it down like it might disappear again. I discovered later that one of the medications they had me on, for bladder spasms, made me super dehydrated and I'm sure for days 6-7 that contributed to my unquenchable thirst and extreme cotton mouth.

It was evident early on, let's say, that I wasn't going to have a problem with constipation, which many people experience as a reaction to narcotics and the anesthesia. I'm generally a regular person and I'm pretty sure that bowel prep had long-lasting effects. Within a day or two after surgery, I was having some consistent loose stool, which was "fun" because every time I had to go, I had to call a nurse to get me a bedpan and then clean me up. God bless his heart, my partner started doing this for me throughout the last two days of my stay in the hospital. He told me he thought I'd be more comfortable with him doing it than some stranger. I don't know how I got so lucky with this guy. That's love.

Out of ICU
Other things of note - on the fourth day, they had me stand up and sit in a chair. Not a problem for me. It was awkward moving around, but it didn't hurt at all. I thought it would since I had heard from a number of guys that this was a particularly painful experience. I also haven't struggled with pain at the vaginectomy site (yet?) and I know others have. We all heal and recover differently, and I'm grateful that this was an easy process. After a short time, I started to feel achy and asked to get back into the bed. It was also around this time that they transitioned me to oral pain medications that I continued once I left.

On day 5, I was ready to leave. They pulled out my Foley Catheter (the one that goes through the urethra), my IV, a drain that was in my hip, a drain on my right thigh, and a drain hooked up to my scrotum. They also took off the wound vac on my left arm, changed my dressing, and put my arm in a brace. A hand/occupational therapist came by my room to show us how to do the wound dressing changes and sent us home with care-taking instructions. I promptly forgot all of the details, so I'm glad I had my partner with me.

Reflections on Nursing Staff
The strength of the nurses varied. Some were particularly amazing and others seemed to be new or immature. The ICU nurses were on point and I was with them for the first few days before being transferred to a different room where I recovered and began my transition out of the hospital. I could, but I won't do shout outs by name given that they may not want to be known in the public sphere.

I don't want to freak anyone out by airing some dirty laundry, but I feel the need to share some of the less glamorous parts of this experience. Know that I did address this with several hospital staff before leaving. One of my last days in the hospital I was itchy and asked for Benadryl. Instead, the nurse gave me something else and I woke up about an hour later overheating, woozy, and with my heart beating out of my chest. I was in such a state of panic that I called my partner who had left a few hours earlier to come back to the hospital. I was freaking out and was afraid that I would pass out or something and no one would be there to help since the nursing rounds were few and far between. I hit the call button for the nurse and someone came in and said he was on his lunch break and they'd give me pain killers. I refused the drugs and said I'd wait to talk to the nurse. When he finally came in (about 30 min to an hour later), I told him what happened and he said he had given me something different than Benadryl. I don't remember what it was called, but he said that sometimes after a long night of work, he would take one and it made him feel "wooo" (yes, he literally said that) and helped him fall asleep. He said it was his error in giving me something I hadn't had before. I must admit I was fucking pissed about this. This guy knowingly gave me something I had never had before that he knew made people feel fucked up because in his deluded mind he thought he was doing me a favor. Next time, don't do me any favors bud. Just give me the damn Benadryl and get a job where you have less access to pharmaceuticals. Thanks.

Leaving the Hospital
Leaving the hospital was a welcomed event. I was happy to be out of that setting, to start eating better-tasting food (it wasn't great), and to start feeling like I was on the mend. We rented an in-law apartment type unit on AirBnB that was about a 20-30 minute drive from the Hospital and Crane's Office (same suite of office bldgs), which ended up being cheaper than a hotel and way nicer. It was a stand-alone small house with a patio and a fenced and gated yard, which gave us the necessary privacy and the ability to bring our dog. I made sure that it was on the first floor (no stairs for me in recovery), that it had a roomy shower, and that it had two beds. In our case, one of the beds was a pull-out sofa bed in the living room. This ended up being ideal since it allowed me to be in a room with good natural light, right in front of the TV, and I know I would have felt more cooped up and unwell had I been stuck in a bedroom the whole time. It was a bonus for my partner to be able to have room to himself (important when caretaking me) and to not be bothered at night by the constantly ringing alarm reminding me to take my medication. It felt like a home. We were able to cook meals, move around, and be in our own little world.

The first seven days have been largely uneventful, which is a very good thing. I've had no complications or issues, no infections, nor any indication that I might need to stay in the hospital longer or go back in for surgery. This is a huge relief. After leaving the hospital, this is what my days have looked like: wake up and shower with a cover on my arm, change the dressing on my arm, then a heavy rotation of medication, sleeping, "peeing" through my catheter, and once a day I'd get out for one trip, which is usually to a grocery store. It is wonderfully predictable and is passing quickly.

I'm looking forward to my first post-op appointment, but Dr. Crane won't be there. He's in Israel right now doing back to back phalloplasties for several days. He and his partner surgeon in Austin were invited by the Israeli Health Ministry since there are no surgeons there who do phallos in Israel. It's pretty bad ass, but I'm sad that I won't get his perspective on my healing at the first appointment. I feel confident that his PA Toni is going to be great getting me through this recovery period and, really, his presence for my healing is not as important as him being able to give a bunch of guys the dicks they really want and need.