Surgery and Recovery

I had surgery on Monday. I came home on Monday and it seemed like I was going to bounce right back to normal fairly quickly. Not true. It's Friday and I don't feel very well.

Leading up to the surgery, I was dreading it. I dreaded the effects of being put under anesthesia. I dreaded having to heal. I dreaded being achy. It just didn't sound fun. This would be the third time I was put under for a procedure in 7 months. (It's getting a little old, that's all...) And no better way to bring in the new year than to be put under less than 2 weeks after it begins, right? I can only think of it this way: If I get it taken care of right in the new year, then the rest of the year will be great! Right? (I mean, you can look at it in another way, too, only I choose not to. Otherwise, I'd be thinking "If I start the new year off this way, what's the REST of the year going to be like!?!")

The morning of surgery I wasn't nervous. I was calm and ready. I goofed off in the waiting room. And I goofed off some more when we were in our pre-surgery room. I made all the nurses and other staff laugh.

I asked my surgeon if she could pierce my belly button as long as she was working in that area. She said she couldn't. But she said if I wanted it done after I healed, she wasn't opposed to it... I'd just have to check with her first to make sure she's okay with it in my healing stages. That was pretty funny. My mother in law put me up to that... I hadn't even thought about it, honestly! And then on my Facebook, my mother in law sweetly suggested that if I don't like the way my belly button looks after surgery, I can always put something sparkly in there. (She is SO on my wave length!) When I suggested it to the surgeon, my parents and Jeffrey all rolled their eyes and said "No. She doesn't need that." Oh well. It was worth a try.

I didn't ask for anything to calm me down prior to surgery. I don't know why- I guess I just didn't feel like I needed it, and I also kind of dreaded whatever that might mean (IV before I'm actually put under and/or drinking a swig of that nasty stuff that makes you sleepy... neither of them sounded fun). So, for the first time ever... I WALKED back into the operating room. Yep! The anaesthesiologist and I walked back there together, talking about life. She asked me what I do when I'm not having surgeries, and then she told me about visiting Canada without a green card and so she couldn't work.

I got into the room, and pretty much everybody in there was younger than I am... all nurses and techs were young. That's annoying. I laid down on the table and they put the laughing gas over my face. (Why do they call it laughing gas? I see nothing funny about this...) They told me they were putting my IV in, but I couldn't feel it... I was getting so loopy. They told me to tighten and loosen my fist really fast for them. I had no clue where my fist was or how to do that, so I was frustrated. I heard all these voices talking about "pacemaker shut off" and "feed this into her line" and stuff that was creeping me out. "Fall asleep!" I kept telling myself. "Fall asleep FAST!" I said a little prayer and heard my surgeon's voice. What a relief. At least somebody in there knew what she was doing. And I soon fell asleep.

I woke up feeling like I had been punched in the stomach. Everything felt dizzy and gross, so I kept my eyes closed. The nurse was quite talkative, even though I refused to wake up. But then I remembered that they told my family if I don't feel like waking up (if I just want to keep sleeping...) that they'll let me sleep. So I opened my eyes. Suddenly, I thought I was going to throw up. So I mumbled something to the nurse about it. She got a towel and it was just in time too... I did throw up. Three times! But I felt so much better after I did! I didn't feel dizzy or queasy anymore. I kept my eyes opened and talked to another young nurse about being married. (They called me an old married woman because I was 28 and because I'd been married for 3 1/2 yrs.) They brought Jeff and Mom in to see me (only 2 people at a time...) and I got to eat a Popsicle (one of my favorite parts of surgery... you'd think I was 3 years old!). They moved me into a room right away because I was doing so well, and Daddy joined in visiting me.

Within just a couple hours I was heading out the door- by foot! I walked out to the car (they did drive it up for me) this time! No wheel chair! That was super exciting. We left the house at 7:30am (I saw my old co-workers arriving to work) and returned back home at 4:30pm (when they'd all be leaving work). I was only gone for 9 hours! I have (heart) surgeries that lasted longer than that!!!

Anyway; recovery is so slow. I feel so sick and tired and dizzy and achy. :( I might go back to bed... but I thought I should at least update you on how I'm doing.

Thanks for the prayers and the well wishes. Don't stop, though, okay?