WG? Hit# 646, Milwaukee WI (2nd hit, could have been a 4 year sleeper!)
Well, yesterday was quite the adventure. I'm still in pain now (waiting for that hydrocodone to kick in) but I can sit up at the computer longer than I could when I got home yesterday. Sharky was absolutely shocked to see me when they came to pick me up. He didn't expect me to be up and about and alert. ROFL I would hope he would have been shocked if I had been a vegetable. *rolls eyes*
We all got up and out of the house early yesterday and parked as far away from the building in the parking garage as we possibly could, therefore I was quite winded by the time we got to the outpatient surgery center. Hah. Signed in and waited for my name to be called. Of course, I then realized that (1) none of my kids had combed their hair or put on clean clothing. Geeze, lovely. (And they looked exactly the same when they picked me up later on.) When my name was called, I was informed that I had to pay a buttload of money before my procedure. I told them I had already paid the surgeon the rest of my deductible ($430) just the day before so all I had to pay was another $150. That alone should have scared the damn gallstones right outta me.
When they called me to go back into the pre-pre-op area, I kissed Sharky & Petunia goodbye, waved to the boys and went back with a volunteer who thought he was the new "Rod Roddy" from The Price is Right. ("Mrs. Cat? Come on down!") He showed me to a room and gave me my designer gown, my fancy slippers and the luxurious folding suitcase to carry my belongings in. (Yeah, his humour was a bit much.) I undressed, dressed, and packed my stuff up and then sat in the bed and waited a while. Luckily a lady did come by to show me where the bathroom was. Eek! Eventually, I had blood drawn, an EKG, and a 1000 questions asked of me. The two ladies who worked on me were very nice and pleasant. The main nurse tried to start my IV in the back of my left hand but stopped when she realized my veins were too deep. She said it wasn't a big deal, the pre-op nurses could do it. I shrugged, no big deal on my part. They locked my belongings up in a locker for me.
Then, a different volunteer came to "escort" me up to the pre-op area. He looked a lot like my grandfather - if my Papa was alive and really tall and thin. LOL I liked him a lot, his sense of humour was fun. He told me that I should be glad that the anesthesia department here was finally modernized. No more hammers! Ack! Yeah, it was silly and just the kind of joke my Papa would have told. He wheeled me into my pre-op bay and covered me up with a heated blanket.
Of course, one major problem was that my eye glasses were packed away with my belongings, so being nearsighted, I really couldn't see much. I've been told that without my glasses, I have a bit of a wide owl-like/deer in the headlights gaze. LOL It usually takes someone speaking to me a couple of times for me to realize they are actually talking to ME. That's what happened with the pre-op nurse. He said "Hi" to me almost 3 times before I realized that I was the person he was talking to. Oops!
Well, the IV situation went downhill from there, he really had a bad time of it. He tried it in the forearm and the vein punctured. He then got it in the crook of my elbow, which was extremely painful. He tried to be careful and numbed me the best he could, but the stuff that was going through the IV burned anyway and there wasn't much he could do about that. I then was interviewed by my Anesthesiologist and his assistant, both pleasant fellows (one looked like a thin, happy Buddha with huge dimples and the other looked like a handsome Vincent Price - and no, I did not say that to them!). I also met a couple of OR nurses that would be assisting and also got to say "Hi" to my actual surgeon, who btw, has a fab bedside manner.
Timewise, I spent about an hour and 15 minutes in the pre-pre-op area and then the same amount of time in the pre-op section before I was finally wheeled into the OR at 10:30 a.m. *cue organ music, dum dum dum dahhh...* By that point, something was in my IV because I realized that I should have been scared but I wasn't. I was lifted/hoisted/crawled onto the OR table and as they were fastening me down, they realized the IV had blown (infiltrated?) and they were quite horrified/upset about it. The Anesthesiologist's assistant moved the IV over to my right arm and they shifted the blood pressure stuff to the left and bandaged me up. I also had my legs wrapped in weird "socks", they were inflatable cuffs that keep the circulation going. Interesting.
The surgeon's assistant was a very nice woman who realized quickly that I was claustrophobic and couldn't take the oxygen mask on my face for very long, so she held it up off of me so I would get the air but not have it forced down upon me. *phew* I started a meditation chant in my head and dozed off quickly after.
Then I woke up. Or should I say, I came alert? I could not open my eyes but I could hear voices and feel pressure on my upper right abdomen. I couldn't speak because there was a tube down my throat but I could move my right fingers and I tried my best to get their attention. Right before I really freaked out, I fell back asleep and then woke up in the post-op area. The first coherent thing I said to someone was "I woke up in surgery." Which, as you might realize, freaked everyone out. I was questioned by practically everyone (and they even called Sharky!) and, eventually, the general consensus was, I did not get a full dose of "knock out" medicine due to the faulty IV and that the point that I did start waking up was at the very end when they do want you to start waking up, so it was early, but normal. Honestly, by that point I was not that worried about it (it was over and done with) and had just wanted them to know about it. They did apologize more than I thought necessary, but oh well.
I did find out they had to give me an Albuterol treatment due to my chest wheezing afterwards and, like I told them, I did have a slow time waking up and getting out of it all. I did do better than I thought and was moved back down to the post-post-op area. The nurse got me some apple juice (which I practically inhaled, I was so thirsty) and I was able to fulfill the 3 requirements of discharge - drinking, urinating, and not vomiting. LOL She brought me my bag of clothing and I called Sharky and found out he was on his way up to the room. He insisted on seeing me first - I thought it was Petunia who was freaked out, boy was I wrong. LOL They all got to see me and then went down to get the car. I got dressed and a nice teenage volunteer pushed me down to the pick up area.
We swung by Walgreens, Sharky dropped the RX for pain off and grabbed me a jug of Gatorade and then we came home. I ended up taking 2 Hydrocodone last night before bed (cuz it HURT) and spent most of last night waking up and passing out every time I rolled over (cuz it HURT). Woke up this morning cuz it HURT. The pain pill has kicked in finally and I'm back to feeling like a punching bag.
The incisions are kinda gross because they are stitched on the inside and super-glued on the outside. Not the most prettiest thing to look at. OK, writing this took a lot outta me so I'm going to rest now...
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