Surgery

The week before surgery was a little strange.  I almost felt like I was just acting out a part in a play.  I guess that's one of the things that I like about my personality; I am able to focus on preparations rather than get wrapped up in anxiety (usually).  My family was taking care of my kids, my sister was coming to take care of me, and a friend dropped off some meals.  I was feeling loved and so thankful.  Everything was falling into place.

I didn't sleep much the night before.  I found myself walking around the house looking for all the last-minute things I needed to do while I still had the use of my arms.  My husband helped me take "before" pictures of the old gals.  As I filed those pictures away, I felt such finality that my life would be totally changed the next day.  I was excited.

We woke up a little after 5 the next morning and I took a shower with the special pre-surgical soap the nurse gave me at my last appointment.  I dressed in loose pants and one of my husband's old button up shirts.  I was directed to fast after midnight and not wear make-up or jewelry, so I didn't have too much to do before we got in the car headed for the hospital about an hour away.

We didn't have to sit too long in the waiting room.  A friendly nurse took me back to a small curtained room where I changed into a hospital gown and squeezed into a pair of compression stockings to ward off DVT.  I wasn't feeling much anxiety until it was time to start the IV.  I've had bad IVs before that hurt the whole time they were in, so it's not just a fear of needles.  They brought in an old pro who quickly slipped it in while the other nurse chatted to me about her earrings.  It was then that I fully realized the worst part of the surgery was over for me...since I'd soon be "under" and not able to worry about anything even if I wanted to.  I was facing a 3-hour surgery that would feel like 15 minutes to me.  That thought and the nice starter medication had me at ease.

My doctor came in to make markings on my breasts. Maybe it was just the meds influencing me, but there was something about that moment that made me feel so emotional.  My doctor's demeanor, her calm, her confidence and gentleness made me overwhelmingly thankful.  I still couldn't believe this was really happening to me.  Besides my wedding and the birth of my babies, I can't think of any other experience that would be so drastically life changing.  There are no words.

The rest is a blur.  There are parts that I didn't even remember, like getting into the hospital bed and getting wheeled away.  My husband told me about this later.  I was so thankful that I didn't remember, or maybe I wasn't conscious, for getting wheeled into the surgery room.  Years ago, I needed a D&C after a miscarriage.  It was a horrible experience on its own, but getting taken to the cold, stark and painfully bright room and having my arms strapped down by unknown covered faces....well, definitely not an experience I wanted to repeat.  Most assuredly, this experience with surgery was far superior.  Basically, I changed into a gown, got an IV, kissed my husband goodbye and woke up a few minutes later all finished.  Perfect.

My experience in the recovery room wasn't quite as stellar.  I don't like that foggy post-anesthesia feeling.  I guess that's why I never hit it off as a drug addict, I don't like that loss of control.  I was also a little apprehensive about being sent home.  Other ladies I've talked to spent the night in the hospital after their surgery, so it felt a little risky to be sent home just a couple hours after such a major surgery.  There was a moment when I felt like I could start getting ready to go.  I agreed to get dressed so I could go to the bathroom, but that's when the nausea started to get worse.  When I came out of the bathroom, the nurse was waiting there with the wheelchair to take me out to the car!  Maybe I missed something, but I really wasn't prepared for the ride home right that minute!  I was miserable.  The next almost-hour in the car was totally unenjoyable.  I drifted in and out of consciousness...I'd fall asleep, then wake up totally carsick and nauseous.  I tend to get carsick when I don't watch the road, but I couldn't keep my eyes open.  I'll leave out the next details...it wasn't pretty.

Once I finally got settled at home in my recliner, I spent the rest of the day in a state of unwakefulness.  My main complaint was a monster headache.  At least I'm used to headaches, so I was feeling pretty darn thankful!