Balloon Removal

5 days after the surgery, on the following Wednesday, I was back at CCRM to have the balloon and catheter removed. What should've been a simple, 3 minute task, turned in to quite a bit more. I have now come to accept that no appointment for me is ever "routine."

Sitting in the exam room waiting for the doctor to come in, I was nervous. It was first thing in the morning and although I had an empty stomach, it was becoming increasingly upset. After several minutes of waiting for the doctor, I decided I had to go to the bathroom. "Great," I thought sarcastically. I was already undressed and sitting there in the lovely paper gown. Should I try and hold it? Should I get dressed and try and go quickly before the doctor comes? I sat there a few more minutes and with no sign of the doctor, I decided that it probably wouldn't be a good idea to try and hold it. After all, what if the procedure took longer than the 3 minutes they told me it would take?

I jumped off the table and quickly threw my clothes back on. I peeked out the door into the hallway and saw no one. The bathroom was right across the hall from my room. I scurried down the hall and leaned around the corner at the nurses station to tell them I needed to use the restroom and their was Dr. Surrey. Ugh.

I ducked into the bathroom, nervously took care of business and opened the door to head back to my room when I saw the doctor leaning against the wall in the hallway, waiting for me. "Don't ever make me wait again," he laughed. I forced a fake, nervous laugh at his attempt at humor and ducked back into my room. I tore my clothes off, jumped back onto the exam table and covered up with the paper sheet. Seconds later, in walked the doctor.

The doctor explained that I would feel "a little pinch" when he pulled the balloon out and then began the procedure. Three minutes on the clock: go! He searched with his fingers, then with the help of the speculum, but could not find the catheter. He apologized and kept searching. "Did it fall out?" he asked me. "Not that I know of," I responded. He kept searching. "I can't believe this but it must've fallen out," he exclaimed. Unbelievable. He couldn't find the catheter. Really? Am I this unlucky? I explained that I had passed some pretty decent sized blood clots, but hadn't noticed anything abnormal, like the hard plastic catheter tubing.

Several minutes passed and finally, he found the catheter. He said that my cervix just isn't where you'd expect it to be, and that things must've gotten pushed out of place during my labor with Greg. Good grief - I seriously was not only embarrassed, but getting annoyed at this point. Just when my annoyance seemed to be peaking, he removed the balloon. No warning, just one firm yank. "Ow!" I yelped as I jerked up off the table. I was soooo not prepared for that. A little pinch? Really? Ugh. Men have no idea what they're talking about when they try to explain what kind of pain women can expect during gynecological procedures. A pinch? Whatever!!! "So I guess I'm not getting a thank you note for this visit either, am I?" Dr. Surrey jokingly asked. "Um, no," was all I could muster. Then he explained that I'd need to come in for another hysteroscopy in a few weeks, just to make sure everything was still ok in there and that the surgery had, in fact, been a success. Wonderful.

More cramping and more bleeding followed this lovely appointment, along with instructions to abstain from sex, baths, tampons etc (the latter 2 for at least a month!). More antibiotics, one more blood draw and I was on my way home. Good times.