There is a trope in a lot of TV shows and movies where a character, usually side character or love interest, gets wounded, and when another character asks them how they are feeling, they inevitably respond with “it only hurts when I laugh” whereafter they chuckle then immediately grimace with pain. Apparently, there is some truth to the whole hurts-when-I-laugh thing, because when I awoke from surgery, I was in much better condition than I had expected, almost no ill effects from anesthesia – neither drowsiness nor nausea – and except for some mild discomfort, almost no pain. That is, until I had the grave misfortune of reading something funny and starting to laugh. When I did, it felt like I had been stabbed in the stomach (I guess, in a sense, that I had). It turns out, that since they had cut my stomach open, anything that required the exertion of force from my stomach muscles hurt like hell. Except for laughing, this also included coughing, sneezing, and adjusting my position in bed. To minimize the pain I had a sort of elastic support belt strapped tightly around my abdomen, but that only reduced the sensation. Except for the pain, the first day was mostly fine. The most annoying thing was that I felt extremely thirsty the whole day, but out of caution they wouldn’t let me drink more than a thimbleful of water, once an hour.

Shortly after breakfast the day after my surgery, my wife informed me that the nurse in charge of my recovery had demanded that I stand up today. Given how painful even a small movement had been the day before, this seemed to me a Herculean task. However, with a bit encouragement, and a lot of physical help from my wife, I forced myself into sitting on the edge of the bed. With another painful push I got to my feet and just stood there for a few moments before I had to lie back to to recover my strength. The task of getting to my feet was either less Herculean than I had thought, or perhaps (and this is obviously the option that I prefer) I myself am a bit of a herculeus. Anyhow, it was a small victory on the road to recovery. Throughout the day I stood up several more times and even walked a couple of steps. It was painful but became more manageable each time. To my great relief I was allowed to drink more water and they even allowed me to eat food. Food, it turns out, was a kind of soup that I can best describe as rice flavored water. Again, they were being cautious.

Over the next couple of days things improved gradually. The nurses started removing the various tubes attached to my body, taking out the catheter, disconnecting the IV and so on. This made it a lot easier for move about, and I started taking short walks around the ward. Getting out of the bed was still hard, but once I was up, I could do two laps around the ward unaided, which felt like a real milestone. I also started getting more interesting food. At first the rice flavored water got a couple of grains of overcooked rice in it, then they exchanged that for some rice porridge, and finally they gave me actual solid food. The hospital food was of course quite bland, but after several days with nothing but watered down rice, it tasted great.

Now, I have to admit there were a few, very minor, bumps on the road to recovery.  First, because I was lying in bed for 23 hours a day, I started getting back pain, and of course changing position to alleviate it wasn’t easy.  Second, and this was more serious, was issues with the IV in my left arm. The thing is, IVs are never comfortable but most of the time you can ignore what little discomfort you have. However, after sitting in the same vein for several days, I started to get bruises on my arm and the discomfort became considerably more noticeable. This can be alleviated by setting a new IV in a different vein but you don’t want to do that too often in case you run out of suitable veins.

After a total of six days in the hospital –  including checking in the day before surgery – the attending doctor decided that, since I was able to get in and out bed unaided, as well as eat solid food, I was in a good enough shape to go home. Shortly afterward the nurse removed the last remaining tubes from my body and I was able to change from the hospital gown to my normal clothes. I understand hospital gowns are made to be comfortable to wear and convenient for hospital staff, but I find there’s something mildly disconcerting about them; it’s as if  wearing one is an indication that you’re not fully capable of taking care of yourself. Naturally then, this was another milestone for me. Later that afternoon, after my wife had processed all the paperwork and paid the bill, we could finally drive home.

The doctor sent me home with a couple of days worth of painkillers and antibiotics, as well a list of restrictions for what I was allowed to do. I was supposed to follow them for two months. The purpose of the restrictions was to avoid exerting too much force on my wounds because that would risk causing internal bleeding. This included things like not being allowed to lift more than one kilo, avoiding bending at the waist, and keeping the elastic support belt on as much as possible. The restrictions meant that my poor wife had to take over most of the tasks I normally do, including lifting heavy shopping bags and so on. Within a short period of time we started coming up with small ways to improve the situation while sticking to the rules. For example my wife brought out a small camping chair, and by sitting on that, I could get down low enough to keep my son company while he played, or unload the dishwasher. I also realized that having unusually prehensile toes really helps when you’re not supposed to bend over.

After I got out from the hospital, my recovery went remarkably fast. Most of the pain was gone after a few days, and my strength returned quickly as well. There was one thing though, that didn’t improve so quickly: my left arm. The bruises from the IV needles remained sore for a long time. Soon enough they became more painful than the actual surgery wound. On top of this I started feeling a kind of cold numbness in my left hand if I sat for too long in front of the computer with the AC blowing on me. Eventually this pain also subsided, but it’s strange that it lasted so much longer than the pain in my abdomen.

It would have been easy to ignore the restrictions as soon as I felt better, but during one of my appointments before the surgery, the doctor mentioned “massive internal bleeding”  which I definitely wanted to avoid, so I stuck to the rules. Of course, this meant I couldn’t do any exercise, so in order to avoid turning into a complete couch potato during my convalescence, I started going for walks at night; at first just around the block but eventually several kilometers. I have to say this is a very pleasant form of substitute.

About three weeks after getting out from the hospital I had my follow up appointment. The doctor told me a couple of important things. First, they had analyzed the tumor and it was indeed cancerous, but since it was small enough and hadn’t started spreading, it was only stage one. Second, they had successfully removed the whole tumor while keeping the rest of the kidney intact; in the doctor’s words it was “very clean”. This means that I most likely will be able to live the rest of my life like normal, I just have to do regular checkups to make sure it hasn’t come back. Third, my recovery is going well and I don’t need to follow the restrictions anymore. Basically all good news. As far as I’m concerned, the tumor is gone, I’m fully recovered from surgery and I can live my life like normal. A big win for me, my family and of course the doctors and nurses.

Now, there are a couple of more things I can add. While the doctor told me I no longer need to follow the restrictions, I didn’t rush to get back to normal levels of activity. Instead I’ve taken things slowly, gradually allowing myself to do more and be more active. Tomorrow will be two months since the surgery, which matches the original timeframe that I was told when checking in to the hospital. I will say, that that is the official date for full recovery, I don’t feel any need for taking things slow after that. Finally I want to say a huge thank you to all the people who helped me get through this thing. Thank you to the company nurse who sent me to that health checkup. Thank you to the doctor who removed that bastard of a tumor. Thank you to all the nurses who took care of me post surgery, and most of all thank you to my wife who remained at my side the whole time I was hospitalized, helping me with a million little things and cheering me up whenever I needed it.