I had day surgery this week. Just an exploratory peek into my abdomen laprascopically. The incisions are tiny, but I guess they HAVE to use general anaesthetic for it. Going under stresses me out so badly. Complete lack of awareness while strangers are touching, poking, yanking… meanwhile all chatting about whatever they want while I lay prone and helpless. I HATE the thought of it. I wish they recorded audio of it all (like an airplane's black box) so I review it later… at least then I could get a sense of how it went.
This time I had the forethought to tell the anesthesiologist that I have a throat that catches on things (last time he tore my throat up quite badly forcing the tube in, but I didn't remind him of that specifically). So he showed me how he would use a small scope to help guide the tube this time (yay!) Sure enough, other than my throat feeling weirdly stretched and achy, no rips this time… so relieved. It felt terrible adding that recovery to the regular recovery last time.
It's cruel. Not allowed to eat a thing after midnight the night before the surgery. But of course I don't stay up to midnight, so I hadn't eaten a thing since about 8pm. Then I had clear black coffee, a bit of water and clear bouillon in the morning. I had to be at admitting by 2pm for a 3:30 surgery. Of course the surgeon was delayed so everything was delayed. I don't know when I finally got into the O.R., but it was definitely dark out. I was cozy in the cotton layers they had me waiting in. And I had a book. VERY hungry, but nervous enough that eating wasn't really something I wanted to do anyhow.
They drew some blood for a test before the operation (I don't know what for, but it passed the time).
Happily, the nurse that rolled me on the gurney to the O.R.'s hallway was nice and chatty. She asked me some questions in good humour and put me at ease. I overheard her as she went into the O.R. telling the other crew in there that
"She will be easy. She's young and in good health."
As I waited (without my book) on the gurney, in the hall, for the surgeon to be available, I watched other techs and surgeons come and go from other O.R.s and I watched the crew of cleaning personnel come and go too. Our hospital has really stepped up their game with taking sanitation seriously. They had an appalling track record for infections for a while… but from what I saw laying there, it will be better now.
The WORST part is going from the cozy gurney to the narrow operating table, having my arms spread out with the sticky dots put on my chest and the tubes inserted into my arm… suddenly the reality is undeniable that I won't know what is going to happen to my body for who-knows-how-long and then I will be moved unconscious to another gurney and wheeled to a different part of the hospital to wake up - hopefully.
But I didn't have time to panic because I promptly fell asleep with the sound of a male nurse (another stranger) talking about bedbugs found in the Vancouver Library books …. nothing.
I woke up badly.
The other 2 times that I woke up from previous surgeries, it was a surreal experience of sleeping in one place and waking in another. I woke up groggy and more bewildered than uncomfortable. The discomfort came afterwards as shoulder pain, thrashed throat and abdominal aches.
This time I woke up crying and really sore. I had a little bit of shakes and moaned until the nurse noticed me. She was a really lovely caring young lady (Julie) who brought me a warm blanket. She could tell I was green around the gills and gave me some gravol, even though I said I'd probably be fine without it. She smiled and said I would be much more comfortable if I took it. And she was right. Before she got it to me I nearly hurled, and that sensation was enough to add insult to injury.
More tears and a terrible sense of something being wrong was pervasive in every cell of my body. Maybe they used some different sleepy juice on my this time?
My husband was already at the hospital when they called for him to pick me up. I had a prescription for T3 to be filled before I went home. And he rolled me out to the car and away we went. I was HUNGRY even though still a bit nauseated. So we stopped at a by-the-slice pizza joint downtown and I enjoyed 2 massive slices of the best pizza I have ever had… just what I wanted.
I think the T3s don't agree with me. I didn't sleep that night. I felt like my eyelids were spring loaded. I also felt like I was going to hurl every time I tried to lay down, so I propped myself up with pillows on the couch (quite comfy) and watched Netflix on my tablet. At one point I thought
"wow, I've seen a lot of episodes, I wonder what time it is" and it was 3:56 am! Considering I am usually asleep by 9:30pm, this is ridiculous. I turned it off and tried to sleep, I may have got a bit, but at 5:30 I had to take some more pain management and drag my wobbly self to the bathroom.
I had supervision the whole next day. My wonderful husband took the day off to babysit. Again, I couldn't nap. But I was fine at laying still as much as possible. Queezy and sore and my voice was gone 60% of the time, but it could have been worse. Now a couple days after the fact I feel almost all the way better. No more T3s required since yesterday morning! I even slept last night!
The funny part of it all ; in recovery, the nurse gave me some papers. Recovery instructions and 3 sheets of photographs with notes on them. They were pictures of my guts!!!!!! The mysterious internal workings of ME. I love it! It's so tidy in there… smooth organs in various shades of pink, white and orangish. He drew lines to which organs were what (helpful) and wrote "healthy" on every one.
Isn't that cool? I have a portrait that I have never seen before.
