The days after...

Well, I'm back.

Surgery day was loooong.  Arrived at the hospital around 8am (appointment was @ 8:30a) - but my name wasn't called until around 1pm.  That puts it around 15 hours without eating food.  Man, I was hungry!

It didn't help that the waiting room was footsteps away from the hospital cafeteria, though I heard from my nurse later in pre-op, that the food selection wasn't that great that day.

The hospital experience does have some flaws.  First, registration desk guy should just stick to saying "good morning", verifying the surgical appointment and giving the patient their wrist tag.  Leave the accounting, and any other billing questions for the appropriate department and not further stress patients on THE DAY OF THEIR SURGERY with payment questions.  Plus, how am I to pay 20% of a procedure that hasn't been performed? Jeez.  The hospital will get paid, and based on the statement I just received, a good chunk of that payment from my last surgery was covered by my insurance.  So what's the problem?

Spending about 5 hours in the waiting room, leaves much to be desired.  No real updates on when you'll be "next", and I must say, for me, being an adult and having to deal with this, I can only imagine the number of children there having to endure the same, but with shorter attention spans.  The hospital should invest in having a "kids friendly" waiting room full of toys and other forms of entertainment for them while they wait.

Also, what's with the timid voices when calling patients?  I spent half my time trying to hear the names called.  Almost as if the nurse was scared of the room full of people? WTF?

Alas, once you're in, the "king" treatment begins.  I can go on for hours on how everyone inside treats you well, and attends to your every question and need.

One way I deal with stressful situations is to just be humorous.  By this time, I was in my gown (which I still wonder why they call it that when half your body is nearly exposed) and needed to pay a restroom visit.  I walked by a nurse station saying "quick, runaway patient.. runaway patient" while attempting to keep my gown in place ... they all laughed.  I then stopped to ask for directions to where I needed to go.

It took a while for my pre-op nurse to arrive, but, what a nice person.  As soon as she walked in, I turned over to mom and said.. "Hey, it's time to order in food! -- I'll have a few hamburgers, fries, and a vanilla shake.." Whereby my nurse laughed and said.. "Yep, sure.. coming right up... let me see your arm."

She asked some pre-op questions, and through some question and answering found that I may indeed be allergic to morphine - based on what happened last month in my prior surgery.  =o/

Alas, it came time to stick me with the IV which is always FUN (not), and get the drugs going.

About 20 mins later, the OR nurse arrived, verified who I was and off we went.  I said "Laters" to mom, and my journey to the OR began.   Like last time, the OR was full of music, but this time 80's era.  Last time it was rock and roll.

I found my OR nurse had a very nice voice and was singing away.  I was moving my feet back and forth in rhythm.  As more OR personnel arrived, I tried to convince them to exchange the surgical lights for a disco ball, and that we could just forego the surgery and have a little dance party.  - didn't work.

My anesthesiologist arrived.  What a sweetheart.  She looked down, and said "How ya doing, honey?"   I told her she was my BFF (knowing my life would soon be in her hands) and she laughed and said...  "Yep, sweetie, we are."

She then placed a mask over my face, telling me it was oxygen, and that she was about to put me to sleep.  I remember her saying.. "You're going to go to sleep now, but, everything will be just fine, honey.. Don't worry about a thing."

{BLACKNESS}

I awake what turns out to be like an hour or so later to find myself in post-op recovery.  To my pleasant surprise, the same nurse that attended me last time, was there. I slowly woke up, got my bearings and say.. "Hey, I know you."  She replied.. "You're back? You must like it here."  Mom shows up, and of course the worried look on her face.   I tried to hide the pain to ease her a bit, but you can't fool mothers.  She knew things were different this time.

As the drugs wore off, the pain kicked in quick, and for a moment, there was a discussion of keeping me at the hospital overnight.  Some more drugs were administered and when asked if I wanted the pill or shot variety, I quickly went for the injection.  Odd, since I hate needles, but definitely a sure sign that the pain I was experiencing was worse.

Time passed, and eventually I was wheeled to my mom's vehicle and as always, don't remember how I arrived at home.

Overall, except for the stupidity of the registration clerk, and 5 hour wait, the ordeal I'm sure could of gone a hell of a lot worse.  Right now, recovery is slow, I'm sleeping but 4 hours at a time due to pain and occasional bleeding, but, definitely making my way towards recovery.  I'm not rushing it though... this was a doozy of a procedure and my body will say "when."

For now, I'm taking things slow.  I'm glad it's over, and here's hoping this is the last of it.