Looking back at the last couple posts, I was on a surgery post, then I had to get mad at my unique position. I guess I should finish the surgical post.
It was amazing at how many people were at the hospital to have out patient surgery. It was so stream lined. Get in line. Wait. Move to the appointed spot. Wait for the person at the desk. Answer a few questions. Stick out your arm for your arm band. Have a seat. Wait for your name to be called. Excruciating migraine.
Every person I encountered asked me my name and what I was there for. Security procedure. Don't want to have the wrong surgery. Would the wrong one have been so bad? That thought did cross my mind a time or two. Wonder what wrong surgery I could have had that day? Maybe just my appendix? Maybe it would have been something worse than my original surgery.
The first thing I have to do is take off all, yes all, of my clothes. Given some gray socks to put back on and a gown. Yay. Insert eyeball roll here. Get in the bed, cover my head with the sheet and blanket.
So, into the pre-op arena. Yes, it was like an arena. It was horse shoe shaped, at the opening of the horse shoe is the lab area. Everyone has to have blood work done. Each patient is separated from the other by curtains, just like in a regular room. Each little cubicle has its own lights, monitoring equipment, bed, chair and so on. My nurse, a male, came in and I was laying there with the covers over my head to block out the light. He asks my name and I tell him, my husband tells him I have a sever migraine. The nurse commiserates with me, he gets them, too. As soon as my blood work is done, he promises me that I will have meds to make it go away.
When was my last menstrual cycle? Did you take anything for the migraine? Have you had anything to drink? To eat? I can't list all the questions, but it seemed endless.
The anesthesiologist seemed sort of peeved that I had a migraine. Was it my choice to have the damned thing? Hell no!! No, I did not take anything! It was the first one I had had in a long time. No allergies.
The doctor comes in. Nice to meet my husband. I tell her I would rather not have seen her again this way. She understands, but my decision is for the best. We agree. The next time she sees me it will be in the operating room.
I am hooked up to a heart monitor by another nurse, this one a female. Beeps and buzzers and all sorts of noises, not just from me but from the others around me.
When can I have meds to make the migraine go away? As soon as all my blood work is back. I can hear the first nurse asking the lab if my blood work is done, she is in pain, get it done. He does this more than once. The needle and med, versed, is waiting for me at the end of my bed on the tray. My blood pressure is sky high. No wonder, I am stressed, dehydrated, and in pain. Not to worry, it's understandable.
Finally, blood work is done and here comes the first nurse. I have an i.v. needle inserted in my wrist, probably my left, I don't remember for sure. This was done shortly after I went into the pre op staging area. He lifts the needle off the table and says I will feel better quickly. All I really remember is my head swimming around. My husband tells me I asked the nurse if it was o.k. that my head was swimming, but I don't really remember doing this.
I have a vague memory of being taken to the operating room. Also another vague memory of being there and being transferred from one bed to the other, but even shortly after surgery I wasn't sure if I really remembered it it "placed" the memory there--I was told what would happen once I was in the operating room, so I am not sure if I really remember what happened or not.
The next thing I know is that I am uncomfortable, there is a nurse around me, I ask the following three questions: Am I done, what time is it, and when can I go home?
I remember being really thirsty and what am I given? Lorna Doone cookies, saltines, and graham crackers. You have got to be fucking kidding me! Here I am, have not had a drop of hydration since the night prior and you are giving me that shit! All I wanted and asked for was lots of water, which I was promptly brought. Skip the damned crackers and cookies! Not sure now much I drank, though.
My husband is there now. Not really sure what he said, it's been over a year now. He probably asked how I felt. I remember trying to sit up--that didn't work out too well. I remember trying to get dressed, had to have help, of course. Stupid elastic waist pants, a shirt, why in the world did I choose to take shoes that needed tied? Very particular about how tight or loose my shoes are tied.
Anyway, the nurse told me it was 9:30, yes, I was done, and I could go home any time I felt up to it. Believe you me, I was wanting to be out of there as soon as I could. Oh wait, I also wanted to make it to McDonald's before breakfast was over. I failed to make it, only by a few minutes, though.
Headed to Target to get my prescription pain killer, Vicodin. Had my husband bring out the electric cart--damn thing was almost dead. Went to the bathroom. For the life of me, I did not want to go to the bathroom in the hospital, just wanted the hell out of there. I remember it being particularly funny that I was having to be helped to the bathroom, in the bathroom, getting my stupid elastic waist pants back up, headed back out to the Vue. He brought out my prescription.
Honestly, I don't remember much of the ride home. I do remember, however, pulling into the County Market parking lot and all I wanted was tapioca pudding and propel. Most of my co workers asked him how I was doing. It seemed like it took him a while to get what I wanted.
Came home and tried to eat a bowl of soup. Drank the propel. Ate the pudding. Fortunately, I was told that it would be hard to eat most anything after surgery due to the fact that some of the drugs that get used during surgery make it difficult to produce saliva for a while. Damned if that wasn't what happened. I had a bowl of Italian Wedding soup with mini meatballs. All I could manage to get down was the broth. The rest of it seemed to stick in my throat. Thank goodness for tapioca pudding!!
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