Surgery Discharge Papers: Fill & Download for Free

It was four daysI just had my first major surgery. I donated my kidney. I was 19 years old and knew it all.I was discharged with prescriptions for Percocet and some Ex-lax. And I'm pretty sure some other meds.I got home and I was in pain. I felt like every time I stood up straight my lower abdomen and nether regions were ripping apart. I imagined two pieces of paper held together by glue pulling apart.Anyhow, I started taking my pain meds. Looked at my other one thinking ew, gross. Not doing it, besides I was 19 and I knew it all.Day 4. Boyfriend says “Your belly looks big” touches it and says it's also hard. He starts reading my discharge papers and rx side effects. Then he asks “When's the last time you pooped?”I then start thinking. We both look at each other like if I got to think about it, it's not good. I started crying. I'm thinking I'm gonna be like Elvis dead on the toilet because I couldn't shit. I start crying like Lucille Balle.I take the Ex-lax and wait.Well let's just say I felt 10 pounds lighter. But imagine giving birth to a 10 pound child. Relieved. But there was pain.

This will be a long story to give the final answer context.Recently, 25th November actually, I was at a conference away from home in a capital city. After lunch I went for a walk and was gripped by stomach pain. I decided to go back to the hotel where the conference was as I was staying there as well. Thinking it would pass I waited in the foyer, wishing it all to end. After 1/2hr, and with the pain building, I asked a staff member to get my colleague as I wanted to go to my room. I felt so unwell I wanted someone with me. Immediately she assessed I needed an ambulance and went into calling them. I was transported to one hospital for more pain relief and a CT scan. I was then transferred to another hospital for a surgical assessment. The transfer was at 4:30 in the morning. Upon arrival at the second hospital I was put into a cubicle in the Emergency Department and pain relief was continued. This regime was Morphine, then Tramadol, then Endone, then paracetamol. After 24hours of constant medication with only ice to wet my mouth I had yet to be seen by a surgeon. Another 24hours goes by - no surgical assessment but receiving constant pain relief, as I was in agony. Meanwhile, in the background, I have 2 close friends, who are nurses, becoming very concerned for me. So concerned one of them pulls in favors and gets a surgeon at another hospital to admit me under him and assess me. I had to get to the hospital where he was situated. Telling the staff at the hospital I was currently in was the stumbling block!The clinical nurse on shift took my request to be transferred to another hospital as a personal affront! She ignored me for hours and when finally she had to speak to me, as my friend arrived to take me by private transport to the other hospital - these were her mean words!To my nurse friend, who has me propped up at the desk, as by now it is 48hrs of horrific pain, she said, and I quote “so you are willing to take your friend in your car to another Emergency Department, taking up another bed of someone who could be really sick!” She answered “yes”She turned to me and asked the same exact question, by now I am so emotionally drained by the physical pain and the medication that of course I said “yes, I need help”“Well” she said “I’ll finish the paperwork, as it’s obvious I can’t change your mind!” 15more minutes of agony and she comes over with the discharge papers in a long white envelope, taps me on the top of my hand with it, and says “well off you go to clog up another Emergency Department then!” “Have a nice day”For the record, upon arrival at the other hospital I was given emergency surgery for a twisted bowel which had also herniated into my stomach. Large scar from breast to groin. The surgeon told me, a couple of days later, that I could have lasted 6 more hours but I definitely would not have lasted 12hours.I felt as if I was dying and I couldn’t do a thing about it.I am still recuperating as I had further complications due to the severity of the surgery and, I believe, the delayed medical help.Thanks for reading.

Back in 2013, I developed chronic pancreatitis from alcohol abuse. Yes, sad to say. I'm still not sure how I feel about that. I feel ashamed some days and proud that I quit and am alive other days. I guess it depends who I'm talking to. Back to the question, the worst thing ever said to me by a doctor was when I had the 2nd pancreatic attack. I didn't know what it was or that it was even the second one I had. The first one was not as painful and the Dr called it gerd. I have no idea why. My discharge papers did list it as a secondary condition but I was being a clueless and in denial alcholic.I was told to quit drinking. Which I did not. About 6 months later I woke up with a back ache that wouldn't go away. Within a few hours, I thought I was going to die. It literally felt like I was being disembowled. I would prefer to be in labor. That's how bad it is. When I got to the ER, the intake clerk told me to have a seat and they would call me. I told him crying, that if someone doesn't help me I was going to walk to the street and step in front of a bus. I meant it too! That was how bad the pain was. Turns out, I had a cyst on my pancreas that would touch the nerve which caused even more pain than just pancreatitis. (which is horrible all alone)After being in the hospital for 7 days without food or water, only IV pain meds, a consulting surgeon came to see me. He said the only way to stop the nerve pain was to have the cyst removed with surgery. The pancreatitis was better by now because the inflamation was down I was feeling like I could handle the nerve pain on my own maybe for a week or so. A majority of the pain was the inflamation.Well, he said he wouldn't do surgery, nor would anyone be knows until I quit drinking for 6 months. And I had to prove it. He wanted me to see a pain management Dr. in the interim. I totally understand about requiring the 6 month waiting period and the referral. However, he had no sense of empathy or bedside manner, probably because since I did this to myself … I was getting what I deserve. It made me feel horrible and hopeless.But to make matters worse, when he walked out of the room he was stopped by the consulting gastroenterologist, and I overheard him say, “yeah just discharge her and refer her to a pain management Dr. She isn't gonna quit and now she probably get hooked on opiods too.”That made me feel like a sack of shit. This probably why I still walk with shame now.Well, he was the sack of shit, because I did find a Dr a week later that did do the surgery 1 month later. Ive been sober since my pancreatitis, 6 years ago, February 19 was my anniversary. I did not get hooked on pain meds either. The dr's words weren't what made me stop, I decided before he came in that I was done drinking. Not only did drinking hurt my family, my job, my health, but it effected my dignity ( which is the hardest to overcome- shame and guilt are the worse).So that's it. Hopefully some Drs will learn that addicts are not mindless idiots without feelings. Those words will forever be with me,