Surgery

I can still tell, over a year later, what all happened on the day of surgery, even the night before. Can't tell you what I had to eat, not the small details, but my over all feelings. One of impending doom, fright, wonder what it will be like to not be "whole" any more.

Morning of surgery, impending doom and hopelessness. Oh, and the excruciating migraine and the need to also shit my brains out. Did I mention I had to shower with anti bacterial soap? 

It's amazing what our minds will focus on to keep from dealing with reality. Other than the need to sit on the toilet and leave a giant crap in the toilet and the need to hurl, my mind was focusing on the fact I had to shower with anti bacterial soap. 

I had gone to my local Bath and Body Works and got some sort of Bahama Breeze or something similarly named~~if I had to do this, the least I was going to do was at least smell good. 

Standing in the shower, all I could do was cry and it was not from the pain of the migraine, it was the fact I had to use anti bacterial soap. Not the fact I was forever going to change my life, not the fact I was headed into unknown territory, not the fact menopause would start in just a few short hours~~it was the fact I had to use that damn anti bacterial soap!! I knew I was a clean person, didn't the staff know I was? The water works would not end, no matter how I tried. Was there some mourning because of what I was losing, I am sure there was, but the more I showered, the worse I cried. Even now, thinking back, writing it, putting it in black and white, the screen is hard to see through the misty eyes.

Shower, done. Sitting on the toilet, taking yet another shit, barfing again.....ugh, can my self esteem get any lower? Oh, my husband knocks at the door....."are you o.k.?" "NO, you cannot come in!!" 

Finally, the tears wiped away, the shit cleaned off, the barf cleaned off, washed down the sink, tried brushing my teeth to get the disgusting taste washed out--I head to get dressed. I don't remember what I wore, pants of some sort, a shirt, tennis shoes. 

Start to head out the door, dry heaves at this point--back to the bathroom. Head to the car, silence, what is there to say?  "If I tell you to stop the car, you will need to do it quickly."

Uh oh, "stop the car!!" yet again, dry heaves, excruciating pain of the migraine.

Hospital parking lot, find the out patient offices. 

It's all stream lined. Check in at the desk, they have your chart, your i.d. ready, answer a few questions, give them your insurance card, you're all set. Hardly took any time at all, maybe 15 minutes tops.

"Mrs. Dunn, this way, please." 

Did I say it's only just around 6:45 when the staff takes my husband and I to the out patient staging room?