Hello everyone!

I want to thank all the authors who shared their reviews about this procedure. Their stories helped me feel more at ease going into my own operation. I'd roughly gotten the idea of what to expect, and that gave me some confidence that everything would go smoothly.

I'll start with the backstory.

On Tuesday evening, I was feeling fine. But then my right side started hurting, like a bad cramp. I thought it might be a painful ovulation, so I just tried to sleep it off. But the pain kept building up, and even taking painkillers didn't help. I was in agony, and I couldn't even lie down. I crawled to the bathroom, hunched over, and it felt like I had to go, but nothing came out. I was in a lot of pain, and I couldn't straighten up. That's when I realized I needed to call an ambulance. But I was in too much pain to make it to the phone. I crawled to the couch, and that was the easiest option, but I couldn't straighten up. The pain was radiating to my right side, where you can get appendicitis, gallbladder issues, or ovarian cysts. So I just sat there, hunched over, and waited for a bit. After about 40 minutes, the pain started to subside a bit, and I was able to sit up straight. But then I had this dull, spread-out pain all over my stomach. It wasn't bothering me too much, and I lived with it for two days.

On the second day, the pains started again, but they were just as dull. It was uncomfortable to touch my stomach and to zip up my pants. In the evening, we were driving home, and I sat down, and the belt of my pants started pressing on my stomach, making it hurt and feel awful. My heart started racing, and I felt terrible and couldn't breathe. I unbuckled my belt, and it got a bit easier, although it still hurt. I told my husband that as soon as we got home, I'd probably call an ambulance. He freaked out, and we got stuck in a traffic jam, and when we finally arrived, it seemed to have eased up a bit. At home, I took my temperature, and it was 37.5, which means there was an inflammatory process, and that's not good. But since I'd been feeling terrible for two days, I decided to give up and call an ambulance.

The ambulance arrived surprisingly quickly. The doctor spent a long time feeling my stomach, and it hurt the most on the right side and lower stomach. He took my temperature again, and it was already 37.7, and after making a preliminary diagnosis of acute appendicitis and a suspicion of oophoritis, he sent me to the hospital.

I still remember the day I had to go to the hospital for a check-up. They called in a surgeon and a gynecologist, but before that, they asked me to take a urine test, blood test, and get an ultrasound of my pelvic organs. On the ultrasound, the specialist saw a 35mm cyst on the right side, but she couldn't figure out what it was - maybe it was endometrioid or something else. After asking me about the nature of my pains, she said I needed to do a vaginal examination, but that was after the doctor's recommendation, and she didn't drop me like a hot potato. The first surgeon who examined me asked if the pain was radiating to my back, and I said yes, so he replied that I was telling him gynecological problems and recommended I see a gynecologist. While I was waiting in line, I started feeling queasy. Since I hadn't eaten or drunk anything in a while, I didn't have anything to throw up, but I had a bag prepared. I couldn't sit down, the pressure on my stomach was getting worse, and I could only stand. But my condition was getting worse by the minute. Finally, they called me to see the gynecologist. There was another line. When I got to the examination room and told them about my problems, the doctor examined me, probed me, and we went for a transvaginal ultrasound together. The specialist confirmed the cyst, but they still couldn't figure out its nature - maybe it was endometrioid or not. The doctor stubbornly denied any female problems and sent me to the waiting area with a suggestion to take some hormones. I was crushed. Everything hurt, and it seemed like they weren't going to admit me to the hospital.

While I was waiting, I had no idea what to do, and I was discussing it with my husband when the surgeon called me again, but this time it was a different one. The story with the questioning and examination repeated itself, and he said he was sending me home. Like, home, I was barely standing. Then he gruffly said he could send me to the department for 3 days for observation, but they wouldn't operate on me because it wasn't an emergency. Or I could just go home and call an ambulance again if it got worse. (The doctor is from God). In the end, they processed me and sent me to the department.

When I got up, I found a post and a girl told me that there were no beds available in the wards - I had to wait in the corridor! What?! No cussing allowed?! I was in shock, crawling to where they told me to go, and at the same time, I was thinking that I was about to have a panic attack. I was on the verge of tears when I found my little nook and realized it was a 4-bed ward, and one of the beds had a post-op patient on it! After surgery, in the corridor! I was in shock! Unable to do anything, I called my husband and told him that they had put me in the corridor and that if I had known, I wouldn't have agreed to it, and it would have been better for me to just go home and die.

This is my VIP spot in the hallway.Just then, the nurse comes to take my blood. Then I talked to this grandma after the surgery and she said she's been lying there for three whole days already. And I was totally freaking out. But there's no way to escape, the hallway's freezing, there are no blankets, just a bed sheet. I put on everything I could find and lie down, the first wave of panic passed, but I'm still feeling pretty crummy. I decide that no one's going to remember me by morning, so I figure I'll try to drink some water. I hadn't had any since the ambulance arrived, they let me take one sip. I got here at 8 pm and had a sip around 9 pm, if you can call it that. Then I call my mom and explain the situation, and just as I'm finishing up, the doctor comes in, this cheerful guy, and says I'm not going to eat or drink anything until the operation. They're going to make a cut above my belly button, insert a camera, and take a look at what's hurting. But he's smiling and joking around, so I'm not sure if he's serious or not. I decide not to drink anything else. Meanwhile, I'm thinking, I don't have compression socks, what kind of operation is this?

So I tell the doctor I don't have any socks or bandages. He says they'll bring them in the morning. Okay. I call my husband and tell him to buy some bandages and get them to me ASAP. Then they bring in this guy on a gurney, already after the operation, and he's shaking so hard he's bouncing up and down. Whoa, I think, that's what's waiting for me. But not now, not yet. The next morning, I try to lie down, but I'm feeling pretty awful and my legs are trembling. It's easier for me to walk and stand, so I get up. And then this young guy comes over and tells me to undress and get on the bed. I take off my clothes and lie down under the blanket. I wasn't scared at all. But I'm thinking, an anesthesiologist wouldn't come get me himself, that's a nurse. He takes me on the elevator to the second floor. I'm lying there, and it feels like a movie, the lights above my head are flashing by.

I was wheeled into the pre-op area, and my favorite blue walls were a nice touch - I thought, okay, this is where I'll be living for a bit. I lay there, taking it all in, but the staff was nowhere to be found. My nephew had taken his grandfather back to the room, and I was left alone. Then I heard the nurses coming in, saying, 'What's the rush? It's too early.' They started making a racket with their instruments, and I was just chillin'. After prep, they wheeled me into the OR, and it was freezing. I was shivering, and they asked me to move onto the table. Under my butt was this metal plate thing. They put a blood pressure cuff on my right hand and strapped it to the table. It would inflate and deflate, measuring my pressure. I turned to look around the OR, and I saw that my pressure was normal, despite my racing heart. They put a pulse oximeter on my other hand and inserted a catheter, strapping that down too. My legs started shaking like crazy, probably from the cold, but I wasn't scared. They strapped those down with a wide belt. The anesthesiologist came over and said, 'Time to sleep, let's dream of a good night's rest.' I just wished I could wake up. They warned me that the IV would start to feel like it's burning, and I'd want to sleep, but I was told not to fight it. They gave me the anesthesia, and it stung, but I counted to three and passed out.
When I woke up, I felt like they were poking around my belly button. I thought, 'I need to tell them it hurts,' but I couldn't. Then I felt them stitching me up, and the needle was round. They did three stitches. After that, the painful stuff was over, but they were still doing something else that didn't hurt. Then they said, 'Time to wake up,' and asked me to open my eyes. I did, and they told me to breathe. I was like, 'Duh, I'm breathing,' but I tried to take a deep breath, and it worked. They said they were going to remove the tube, and I was like, 'Which tube?' I hadn't even felt it. They pulled out this flexible, transparent tube from inside me, and it didn't hurt at all. They asked me something, and I replied, but my voice was all croaky and tired, like I was talking through a cardboard box. I tried to tell them I felt everything, including the stitches, but they just laughed and said it was all in my head. Then they asked me to move back to my own bed and took me back. I was waiting for the chills to kick in, but nothing happened. Instead, I felt warm, and all I wanted to do was sleep. But sleep was not an option.My notes from right after the surgery.

I wasn't scared, but my heart was racing. The blood pressure was 115, but my heart was pounding and shaking. They put a catheter in my hand, gave me something, and stitched me up. I remember feeling sleepy, then I was vaguely aware of someone poking me in the belly button. I tried to say it hurt, but I couldn't. Then they stitched me up, three stitches, it was unpleasant. They did something else, and then they told me to wake up. I opened my eyes, and they asked me my name, but I couldn't answer. My tongue wasn't cooperating, and my voice was hoarse and strained. Everything was blurry in front of me, but it wasn't too painful, except for my belly button. I wrote to Lesh, but he was probably sleeping. I felt okay, actually, it was even warm, and I wasn't shaking too much. I just couldn't focus my eyes, everything was blurry. And I wanted to cough, but I couldn't. They wouldn't let me sleep, so I'm writing instead, but I really want to sleep.

2:07, they gave me pain meds, and the shaking stopped. I want to sleep, but I'm not allowed to. My left leg is cramped.

I'm not thirsty, which is surprising, I was sure I'd die from thirst. In the operating room, all the nurses were women, which was weird, because only men had touched me. I don't know who to pay.

It's like a miracle.

As I was drifting off after the anesthesia, I heard someone coming out of the next room. It was some guy, and he looked like he was in a daze. He came over to my bed and started yelling, 'GET READY FOR SURGERY!' I was still trying to find my voice, and all I could manage was a croak. He muttered something and walked off down the hallway. I was shocked, there was no one with me except this helpless old lady. How can they leave patients alone after surgery? I just don't get it. But that's not the end of it. He comes back, gets into the bed next to me, and starts looking for a blanket. When he can't find one on his bed, he reaches for mine! I'm speechless, I don't know what to say. He starts yelling again, and I tell him, 'What are you doing?!' He just curses and walks off. Then the old lady wakes up and tells me that this guy had been wandering around the hallway and trying to get into my bag, but someone chased him off. And then he comes back. I don't know what to say, it's terrifying to be in a ward with psychos. They should be watching us or at least locking the door at night. In the end, they kicked him out of the ward, and he didn't come back. But I was too scared to fall asleep for two hours.

Early in the morning, a young doctor came to visit the old lady, then he came to me and asked who had operated on me. I remember only women in the operating room, so I told him I didn't know. He said they'd figure it out.

My doctor came, and he told me I have irritable bowel syndrome and varicose veins in the lower pelvis. Nothing serious, no appendicitis. They cleaned out my stomach, put in a tube to drain off fluid, and nothing burst or ruptured. No appendicitis, no cysts. I'm a bit disappointed, to be honest. If they'd just cut out the problem, I wouldn't have to deal with it later. I'm frustrated, I could have figured all this out myself at home. The only meds I need are painkillers and antibiotics. The tube will be in for a few days.

I'm really annoyed that I caused so much trouble for the doctors, even though it wasn't anything serious. I feel like I'm getting charged for the inconvenience.

I woke up to the doctor telling me I'd be moved to a room soon, and I wouldn't have to lie in the hallway anymore. To be honest, I was already over it. My grandma, who'd had surgery the day before, was up and about, walking around. They told me to stay in bed until lunchtime, and then I could get up.

But then, they came for me. I mean, they literally wheeled me out on the same bed I was lying on. They took me to a four-bed room - and I was the fifth person in it! I was totally shocked. I was already regretting not being left in the hallway. No way out, no nothing, just old lady legs on both sides of the room

The fifth bed in the four-bed room.

It was a real challenge to get up in these Spartan conditions. The fact that I was going to have to get up wasn't scary, but the fact that there was no place to put my feet was a different story! I swear, I don't even remember how I managed it. And to make matters worse, they'd left my slippers in the hallway. I was in a four-bed room, but it was on the other side of the hospital, two corridors away. Great. I put on the street shoes I'd brought with me and made my way along the wall. My head was spinning, and I felt weak. I have no idea how some people can just get up and walk around like nothing's wrong - it's like they're superheroes or something. For me, getting up was agony. I crawled along the floor, looking for my slippers, and that's when I ran into my grandma. We chatted for a bit, but I was feeling really weak, so I crawled back to my 'luxurious' accommodations

Fortunately, this 'delight' was short-lived, and by 2 pm, one of the patients had been wheeled out with a big smile on her face - hooray! We were down to four patients in the four-bed room. Spoiler alert: it wasn't going to last long

Then they moved me to the bed by the window.As a result of the operation, I had a drain in my left side, and a medical glove was attached to the tube, which was draining the exudate. There wasn't much of it to begin with, and it was pink due to the blood.

Later that day, the doctor came back and pressed on my stitches (!) and asked where it hurt. To be honest, my stomach wasn't hurting, but the stitches were sore, despite the painkillers. The doctor said he'd remove the tube on Sunday, and for now, I could only drink, and eat the next day.

As it turned out, the first day after the operation wasn't as scary as I'd expected in terms of pain. Everything was pretty manageable, and I was actually feeling better than I had before the operation. The weakness had passed by the evening, and I wasn't hungry. I only drank water in full, just like the doctor had said. They gave me a painkiller injection at night, which literally took my leg away and made my stomach hurt. I was terrified of those injections afterwards, but there was no escape - I was stuck on the submarine

Getting out of bed was tough because the bed was super high, and my feet didn't reach the floor. I had to strain my back to get out of it without bending down, and it was on wheels.

Day two was a bit more fun – aside from the painful injections, I was finally allowed to eat! I hadn't eaten for two days, and the hospital food, which was basically just Gerber's, tasted like a feast to me. They even gave me tea and toast with butter for breakfast. But the doctor told me to avoid veggies, fruits, and bread.

Lunch was a blended soup with barley, mashed potatoes, and a chicken patty. And a fruit compote. I could’ve eaten that for days. The patty was especially tasty.
Dinner was mashed potatoes and a fish cutlet – the cutlet was a bit of a letdown, though. And tea.
In the evening, I started getting these stabbing pains in my lower abdomen. They made it hard to go to the bathroom. I felt like I was giving birth or something. The pain meds didn’t help, and the doctor said it was just a normal side effect that would pass by the next day.
Day three was supposed to be the day I got rid of the tube. Getting out of bed was still tough, but standing and lying down didn’t hurt. I didn’t even feel the tube.
Breakfast was a weird wheat porridge – I don’t know what it was made of. Gerber’s was still better. Tea and toast with butter.
Lunch was a little soup, mashed potatoes, and a patty. Compote.
Dinner was a rice and milk porridge. And tea.
The doctor came in for like five minutes, asked how I was doing, felt the stitches, and said he’d take out the tube the next day. Tomorrow? Already? My neighbor and I had been waiting all day for that.I was staring out the window when a pigeon flew in through the window. My neighbor told me to shoo it away, said it was bad news. There’s a grandma in our ward with cancer, so I thought about her. I was wrong. That evening I went to wash up and brush my teeth, and as I’m coming out of the bathroom, my neighbor says to me, ‘Be careful, don’t fall.’ I’m like, what’s the big deal? And then I see this fifth bed in the hallway, like when they brought me in, all those years ago. What are you supposed to understand, this chaos? I can barely make my way to my own corner, I have to go sideways and tiptoe. I’m pretty skinny, but doing these acrobatics with the tube in my side and the stitches, it’s just not easy. We were even thinking of asking to sleep in the corridor, but that night it was packed - patients kept coming in and it wasn’t possible to leave the ward. I couldn’t even sleep, the constant snoring, the light from the corridor, the noise from the staff, it was impossible to fall asleep. I’m not blaming the staff at all, they’re saints.

There used to be a hallway, now there’s no hallway.We were discharged on Monday, on the fourth day.

Removing the drain was done by the nurse. I was scared it would hurt, but it wasn’t painful at all, just a bit uncomfortable. First, she removed the bandage, that was even more painful than the actual removal. Then she cut the thread holding the tube in place and pulled it out. The drain came out easily and without pain. I thought it would hurt, but there was no pain at all. The stitches were covered with fresh bandages and I went back to the ward. On the same day, we were discharged home.

We were advised to follow a diet for 7-10 days, no vegetables, fruits, dairy, or bread. Come for the stitches to be removed the next day, i.e. on Wednesday.

My diagnosis: irritable bowel syndrome and varicose veins in the small pelvis.

At home, only the belly button stitches were painful, the one in my side didn’t bother me at all. It was hard to get up, bend over, and sleep on either side. But with each passing day, it got easier and easier.

The stitches were removed on the sixth day, it took 5 seconds, not even painful, just a bit uncomfortable. They gave us some recommendations and sent us home.

We were allowed to take a bath the next day, after I removed the bandage/plaster. To treat the stitches with betadine, fukorcin, or green soap. I used fukorcin and it got just as dirty as green soap. I applied it until the scabs fell off, then stopped.

I’ve also been advised not to lift heavy things and to take care of myself to avoid the stitches coming undone and varicose veins developing. They also prescribed me to take Detralex for a course of 1-2 times a year.

After two months, the stitches had fully healed, but they looked red and itched a lot, especially the belly button stitch. The side one didn’t bother me at all. For several months, I had skin irritation where the bandages were, but it eventually went away.

Stitches after 2 months. Here’s what the stitches looked like 7 months after the operation.I’m sorry to say that I couldn’t say that the stitches were completely invisible and couldn’t be seen at all. Scars formed on their place, but that’s just my skin type, some people’s stitches are almost invisible. I’m not too worried about it, the main thing is that nothing hurts.

Conclusion: laparoscopy was my first operation and it was completely not scary and not complicated. I was more nervous about the waiting and the anesthesia than the operation itself. I got lucky with a great team of doctors who even did a great job at night, leaving me with positive memories. If I ever need this procedure again, I’ll go without fear. Plus, the recovery was pretty quick, the only hard part was the first day, and then it got easier with each passing day. I was even able to take a leisurely walk with my little son on the day of discharge, and no one would have ever guessed that I had an operation.

I highly recommend laparoscopy! But maybe it’s better not to get sick in the first place)

What’s it like to wake up during an operation? My review of general anesthesia (endotracheal) is here.

Thanks for reading, everyone.

Take care!