Before surgery
I didn’t rush into it. I’d had piles for years. I’d tried creams, changed what I ate, and had banding more than once. Each time things settled, then came back. Eventually my surgeon and I agreed that surgery made sense.
Every operation and every surgical team is different. What I did followed my team’s advice for my surgery. Yours comes first.
I felt two things at once. Relief that something definitive was happening. And dread, because I’d read enough online to know this recovery has a reputation.
So I prepared. My surgical team told me to start keeping my stools soft before the operation, and I started a week ahead. I bought a sitz bath, a donut cushion, a wash bottle and soft gauze pads. I cooked and froze soft, high-fibre meals. I asked my partner to be around for the first week. I booked two weeks off work. I nearly booked one.
The day of surgery
I had a general anaesthetic. When I woke up there was a dressing in place and I felt groggy, but not in much pain. The area was still numb. For a few hours I thought, maybe this won’t be so bad.
That changed by the evening. The feeling was burning and raw. Every shift in position took thought.
The nurses kept checking whether I’d passed urine. They told me some people struggle to go after this surgery, because of the anaesthetic and the swelling. It took me a while, and I was glad they were watching for it.
The first night I barely slept. The nurse’s advice stayed with me: take the pain relief I’d been prescribed, as prescribed, on schedule rather than waiting for the pain to get bad. I set alarms on my phone.
Days 1 to 3
This was the hardest stretch, and I think it helps to say so plainly.
The pain wasn’t only when I went to the toilet. It was there all the time. Burning, throbbing, sometimes sharp. Sitting hurt. Walking was slow.
I dreaded the first bowel movement more than anything. I put it off, which I don’t think helped. When it came, it was painful. I won’t pretend otherwise. But my stools were soft, and it was bearable. Afterwards I felt wiped out, and also relieved that I’d got through it. Each one after that was a little less frightening.
The sitz bath became the centre of my day. I sat in warm water after every bowel movement and sometimes in between. It was the one calm part of those days. In the first two days I tried ice for the swelling too. It helped me a bit. Warmth helped more.
Days 4 to 7
The constant pain started to ease into a background ache. Bowel movements were still the worst part of each day, but I could see a trend.
It wasn’t a straight line. One day felt like a step backwards and I worried. My team had said a bad day can happen, but to call if it didn’t ease, or came with fever, more bleeding or worsening swelling. The next day was better again.
I lay on my side most of the time. I didn’t sit anywhere without the cushion. I was more tired than I expected: the surgery, the broken sleep, and just the weight of it all. I stopped feeling guilty about resting.
Honestly, the days blurred. By the end of the week I couldn’t have told you which day the bleeding eased or when I last needed the extra pillow.
Week 2
Something shifted. The pain between bowel movements dropped a lot. I started to feel more like a person again.
I began short walks around the block. It felt good to move. My team had said no heavy lifting or hard exercise yet, so I kept it gentle. The sitz baths dropped to two or three a day. I kept up the fibre, the water and the stool softening my team had recommended. They’d been clear this wasn’t the time to stop.
I went back to my desk job at the end of the second week. I was glad I hadn’t tried sooner.
Weeks 3 to 6
Progress was steady. I could sit for longer with the cushion, though long meetings still left me aching, so I got up often. I still had the odd sharp twinge or sting as things healed. My team said that was part of the process, and it passed.
Bowel movements stopped being something I planned my day around. I built back up to proper exercise slowly.
At my follow-up, the surgeon asked how the first fortnight had gone. I realised I couldn’t remember much detail. I said “fine, I think” and left wishing I’d said more.
Looking back
In that first week I thought, more than once, “What have I done?” By six weeks, the symptoms I’d lived with for years had gone for me. The first week was as hard as people say. For me it was worth it, but that’s a decision to make with your own surgeon.
How other people’s recoveries differed
People’s recoveries vary, and these differences come up often:
- Some describe the pain as the worst of their life. Others say it was manageable with the medication they were prescribed.
- A few people go back to work within a week. Most need two to three weeks, and longer for physical jobs.
- Some find ice more helpful than warmth in the first days. For others, only warmth brings relief.
- Many people regret the surgery in the first few days. Many say they were glad they had it once they’d healed, though not everyone feels that way.
- Some feel fully recovered by six weeks. Others notice occasional tenderness for a few months.
When to contact your surgical team
Contact your surgeon or seek medical care if you notice:
- Heavy bleeding — blood dripping rather than spotting, soaking through a pad within an hour, more than a few drops in the toilet, or passing clots
- Bleeding that suddenly increases after it had settled, especially one to two weeks after surgery — this always needs checking the same day
- Severe pain that your prescribed medication is not controlling
- Fever or chills
- Being unable to pass urine, or only passing tiny amounts with a full, painful bladder — contact your team straight away, or go to A&E or the emergency department if you can’t reach them
- Swelling, redness or warmth around the surgical site that is getting worse rather than better
- Foul-smelling discharge from the wound
- No bowel movement for several days, despite the stool softening and fibre your team advised
- Anything else that worries you — your surgical team would rather hear from you than have you worry alone
If bleeding is heavy or won’t stop, or you feel faint, dizzy or breathless, go to A&E or the emergency department, or call emergency services. Don’t drive yourself.