Shannon (kungfuwaynewho) wrote,

Mission: Success!

Surgery's all done with and everything went splendidly!

Even though I'm sure most of you have been through surgery, in-patient or out, or at least are relatively familiar with hospitals and how they work, I am going to type up my experiences yesterday ANYWAY, because I FEEL LIKE IT, so THERE.

So the night before I had a terrible headache and (a) took some ibuprofen even though the nurse on the phone the day before SPECIFICALLY told me not to, and (b) forgot to set my alarm clock.  It was also super-cold that night, so I let my cats sleep in bed with me - normally they get put into the basement, because otherwise at around 3am they start going "Mom?  Mom, are you okay?  Are you awake, Mom?  Do you want to play?  Do you want to pet me?  PET MY HEAD, PET IT, MOM.  Hey, do you want to feed me?  Let's go, let's go feed me!  Yay!  Oh jk I already had food in my bowl FILL IT UP COMPLETELY I MIGHT STARVE.  Mom?  Why are you upset, Mom?"  But maybe they realized what a special treat they were getting last night because they never woke me up.  I did, of course, wake up pressed up against the wall, one leg hanging off the bed, with one cat attached lamprey-like to the small of my back, the other stretched out Superman-style across the rest of the expanse of my queen-sized bed.  Not terribly conducive to a good night's sleep.

So I woke up six whole minutes before my mom was scheduled to pick me up and drive me to the surgery center.  Thankfully, I had got everything ready the night before, so she only had to wait on my dumb and slow ass for like five minutes.

On the drive, I actually opened my mouth to ask my mom if we had time to stop at like a McDonald's and get something to eat before I remembered that I also wasn't supposed to eat or drink past midnight.  Because surgery is like Gremlins, I guess. 

Once there, I did a little bit of paperwork, and then they promptly took me back to the prep place.  Got undressed, on the bed, and then the nurse put the IV in.  Nurses always have a hell of a time getting a needle into my veins.  When I had some blood drawn last week, the nurse had to stick me like in the middle of my forearm instead of the crook of my elbow; it was weird.  Anyway, yesterday she finally got me, like, a quarter-inch below one of my knuckles in the top of my hand.  It hurt more than usual.  She was like, oh, it's probably resting against a nerve ending, do you want to move it?  Since it had taken her like five whole minutes to get it in in the first place, I was like, um, NO.  So she taped the son of a bitch down with approximately a dozen pieces of tape.  But it still just felt like a constant pain, like that moment when they first stick the needle in, just that, not ending.  At one point I shifted and the tube caught on my gown and the constant pain of 2/10 shot up to 4/10 and I let one little sad tear of sadness escape.  The nurse saw me and was like, "Are you crying because of the IV?" in such a tone that told me she thought it was remarkably stupid to cry over an IV.  I was like, "No!  Just glad this will all be over soon!"

(I was crying because of the IV.)

My mom came back, and we sat and talked for forever because the doctor was running late.  I had to pee again, because nothing is ever easy, so the nurse had to carry my IV bag and walk me to the restroom and I felt stupid.  (It didn't help that she acted like this was OMG SUCH AN IMPOSITION.  Like sorry I have to pee every hour no matter whether or not I've had anything to drink.)

And then the doctor came!  And we talked!  And the anesthesiologist came!  And we talked!  And the surgery nurses came!  And we talked!  And finally they shot the anesthetic into my IV, told me it would just be a minute or two before it kicked in, and wheeled me off.

Now, the following, my brain processed LIKE A MEMORY OF A REAL, FACTUAL EVENT: I was wheeled out of the prep rooms, down a hallway, around a corner, through a door, and into the surgery room.

After that, my brain processed this LIKE A MEMORY OF A DREAM: They pushed my bed against the other bed, lowered the railing, had me slide over to the other bed.

I remember nothing after that.  Not getting the lovely warm blanket, not having them get me situated, not getting the oxygen mask thingy.  Nothing.

I woke up in recovery, and my first question was: "Is it over?"  (It's over, the nurse said.)

My second question was, "The nurses put the beds together.  Was that a dream?"  (No, dear, the nurse said.)

My third question was, "Is it over?"  (Yes, dear, the nurse said.)

For the next five minutes, it was a struggle between two parts of my brain.  One was the drugged-brain, which understood little, and insisted that if I didn't remember it, then it obviously didn't happen, and it needed to keep asking questions to figure out the reality of the situation.  My logical-brain, which was struggling to come to life like a steam engine picking up speed, recognized that these were dumb questions, and kept trying to shut them down, but wasn't powerful enough yet to veto.  So I knew the answers before I asked, but couldn't keep from asking.

"Did the doctor get everything?"  (Yes, she got everything.)  "Is this the room where I started?"  (No, this is recovery.)  "Can I get dressed now?"  (You can get dressed in about ten minutes.)  "Do you want the socks you gave me back?"  (No, dear, you can keep the socks.)  "Can I eat today?"  (You can eat today, when you're hungry.  Nothing spicy.)  "I didn't throw up, did I?"  (No.)  And then, my favorite - I dozed off a little, then snapped back.  "Am I in the car?"  (No, sweetheart, you're not in the car.  You're still in recovery.)

Then Mom came back, we talked, everyone left, I got dressed (it was really hard), and the nurse walked me out to the car.  We drove home, and I promptly got into bed.  A cat attached himself, his little head up on the pillow next to mine.  After a 90-minute nap, I got up with a headache.  My mom had picked up my prescription for ~*~pain pills~*~ and I took one.  By this point, my mom had left and my sister was there.  She pointed at me, accusatory.  YOU CAN'T HAVE THAT ON AN EMPTY STOMACH.  I ate a roll.  YOU CAN'T GO BACK TO SLEEP ONE OF THE SIDE EFFECTS IS STROKE.  We watched two episodes of Parks and Rec.

~~~Time for another nap.~~~

My Gamps came over, and we had soup for dinner.  We played a board game, and by the end I couldn't keep my eyes open.


After doing this and that on my computer the rest of the evening, I went to bed early and slept for 10 straight hours.  Feel great today!  Hopefully everything is easy peasy after this.  I certainly hope so.

Tags: real life
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