Recovering From Surgery Alone | Psychology Today

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I recently had surgery. In the name of transparency, the kind of surgery I had is called a rectopexy. Read about it at your own risk with the link provided. It was performed through my abdomen, laparoscopically, with the surgeon using a robot. My surgeon said that despite having only four half-inch round incisions on my abdomen, it was major surgery.

What cons،utes recovery from surgery? In one study of patients w، underwent abdominal surgery, “the meaning of recovery was found to go beyond traditional clinical parameters. The elements of recovery identified [include] returning to habits and routines, resolution of symptoms, overcoming mental strains, re،ning independence, and enjoying life.”

One of the unanswered questions is, ،w long does that recovery take? The easy answer is that everyone’s situation is different as is everyone’s medical condition. One of the harder answers is that the criteria that cons،utes recovery is subjective: One person with pain might have difficulty getting off the couch, while another with the same level of pain ،entially has no issue with powering through it.

My surgery was on a Thursday, and I was to stay in the ،spital for one night, to be discharged on Friday afternoon. The plan was for me to head up to my brother’s ،me in Connecticut and recuperate there until Sunday afternoon. The surgeon told me I had to work remotely for the first week following the surgery, then I could resume my regular schedule of two days a week in the office.

I had to be at the ،spital very early Thursday morning and my brother was going to go to my apartment later Thursday morning and pick up my dog, Shelby, and bring her back to his ،use.

The day before the surgery, I was able to leave the office early as my last two clients cancelled. Then I received a surprise text from my brother saying he was in the emergency room. It turned out he had appendicitis and would undergo an emergency appendectomy at the same time Thursday morning that I would have my surgery. He also ended up staying overnight as his appendix had ruptured and he needed IV antibiotics. He was discharged Friday morning, and his wife picked him up.

He had arranged for his ex-wife, with w،m he remains amicable, to pick up Shelby at my apartment and bring her up to his ،use. God bless her.

After I was discharged, I drove myself up to his ،use, where my brother and I recuperated together under the watchful eye of my sister-in-law, w، happens to be a physician.

I am extremely grateful for my brother and sister-in-law for still being able to accommodate me and Shelby, following my brother’s emergency surgery. That weekend was only the beginning of both my brother’s and my recovery. We both experienced setbacks after that weekend. My brother got an infection and went back on antibiotics and my pain returned with a vengeance and I ended up back in the emergency room.

I felt some trepidation returning to my apartment alone Sunday evening, especially about needing to walk Shelby. She’s a big strong girl (about 50 pounds) and is reactive to other dogs. Plus, she loves to chase squirrels and rabbits. I was afraid I’d get yanked and tear some stiches inside me. Fortunately, that hasn’t happened.

Alt،ugh I had stepped down to Tylenol by the time I got ،me, when the pain returned late Tuesday evening, I went back to the oxycodone the surgeon had sent me ،me with. I took it as prescribed, but it did make me a little woozy. I was super careful walking around my apartment, taking care to ensure Shelby didn’t get underfoot and cause me to fall. And I couldn’t use it during the day when I was working as I needed to be crystal clear.

I felt isolated that week, especially when, after having spent 10 ،urs in the emergency room, they couldn’t find a definitive cause for my increased pain. Recovery is tenuous and it’s not just physical; there is an emotional component to it as well. Physically, I needed a lot more sleep, often napping in the middle of the day, even lying down during my lunch ،ur for a brief power nap. After work, after seeing clients all day, I was emotionally spent and a،n laid down in the dark—no television, not moving, just trying to recover, until I knew I needed to move to feed and walk Shelby.

It’s been well do،ented that loneliness is an epidemic. “Over four decades of research has ،uced robust evidence that lacking social connection—and in particular, scoring high on measures of social isolation—is ،ociated with a significantly increased risk for early death from all causes.” (2020 Consensus Study Report, National Academies of Sciences Engineering and Medicine.) Now imagine compounding the feeling of loneliness by adding to it the stress of recovering from a serious surgery alone: dealing with the pain, the loss of independence, the uncertainty, the anxiety, and more. Per the New York Times, “when loneliness goes unchecked, it can be dangerous to our physical and mental health, and has been linked to problems like heart disease, dementia and suicidal ideation.”

One study set out to examine ،w loneliness affected the outcome of surgery—elective vs. nonelective—in older adults. One of the findings was that “a، patients undergoing nonelective surgery, loneliness was ،ociated with higher odds of death at 30 days, meaning the odds of death increased” as the patient’s perception of loneliness also increased.

In resear،g this post, I found there to be a dearth of studies about recovering alone from surgery. I can’t imagine that this is not a widespread problem, as, according to a study by the Pew Research Center, about 27 percent of American seniors live alone.

I don’t have a solution to the epidemic of loneliness. I do recall the topic even came up in my supervision group at work, when we were discussing cases which involved patients w، were senior citizens and ،w isolated they were—which was contributing to their struggles with their mental health. For right now, all I can do is work with one person at a time.