The Hospital Experience part 1: Surgery Day

I slept surprisingly well on Monday night and we got up at 6:00 on Tuesday, as we were planning to leave by 7:00am.  We got Aaron off to school and Paula, Robyn and my mother arrived promptly by 7:00.  After a couple of "BAH!"s, we were on our way down the road. 

Looking back, I'm surprised how calm I was the whole way down.  Baltimore is about an hour and half from home, so there was plenty of chatting time.  We arrived at Bayview early and I desperately had to pee of all things, but knew they were going to want a urine sample.  So, we checked in and the receptionist called for a nurse to take me to the restroom.  I left my mom, hubby and Robyn in the admissions room and followed my nurse, Rose, to the restroom, fully intending on returning to my family and friend after relieving myself and taking care of the surgery protocol.  Not to be the case.  After giving Rose my specimen, I was wisked to the little curtained area that would be mine for surgery prep.  I was given my gown, compression stockings and footies and once I'd changed, they got my IV site ready to go. 

Funny story, while Rose was helping me tie up the humongous gown, she was commenting on how big it was and I was honestly tuning in and out as I tried to take in how quickly all of this was happening.  Then I hear her talking about how much she loved Pooh.  I immediately started looking at my gown, certain that the tiny design on it was in no way the funny ole bear and I was right.  I said, "Rose, what are you talking about?  There is no Pooh."  Rose was actually looking at my tattoo on my back and when I told her there was no Pooh, her thought was "Oh my god, someone tattooed this girl and she doesn't even know it."  We had a much needed laugh on my part.

I requested a local before they got my IV in, so don't be afraid to do that.  I'm a baby and nurses have had trouble with my veins in the past and I was way not about any extra pain.  They obliged me and the IV ordeal was painless.

My hubby and mother finally came back to see me and I told them, "Honestly, I was just coming back to pee!"  We chatted and laughed and mom let Robyn come back for a bit and my sister, Vicki arrived and the Brit let her visit for a bit as well (only two visitors at a time).  I was still rather calm when Dr. S came in to say hello and I asked him if he was having a good day.  He replied, "What if I'm not?"  He has that dry sense of humor that appeals to me which is part of the reason I like him so much. 

Then the anethesiologist came back and scared the hell out of me.  She looked down my airway and remarked how narrow it was (I have VERY severe sleep apnea) and told me that if she was unable to get the tube down my throat while I was under, they may have to wake me up so they can direct me as to what they needed me to do to help.  This is way not something you want to hear before a surgery.  I asked some questions and she was very matter of fact and I was feeling very unnerved and for a moment wondered what would happen if I called the whole thing off.  Then her assistant came back to introduce herself and I questioned her.  Her bedside manner was much more comforting and she went over that they would leave me under just enough that I was not going to remember any of it.  Okay, feeling better now.

They came to take me back and I bid the family goodbye as they finally gave me my I Don't Give A Shit cocktail.  I remember being wheeled into the OR and thinking how small it was.  I remember scootching over to the operating table and them asking me to tilt my head back.

The next thing I vaguely remember was waking up in recovery, feeling very disoriented.  I don't think I was having much if any pain and I remember trying to read the clock on the wall without my contacts or glasses and not being sure of what time it was.  They kept having me breath into that hateful spirometer for what felt like forever.  Fact was, they were concerned as they had just learned firsthand during surgery just how bad my sleep apnea was, so they keep having me use the machine and taking deep breaths.  I was supposed to be in Recovery for an hour.  I was there for almost four hours until they felt I was stable enough to take back to my room.

The rest of the evening is very fuzzy to me.  I had a morphine pump that I could hit whenever I wanted though it would only give me a dose every 6 minutes.  My mother said, I kept hitting the button and smiling and then going back to sleep.  I have no recollection of what time everyone left.  I can't really recall the pain level. I know Adam was my nurse that night, but we didn't do much conversing till the next morning and even then, things were still fuzzy.