Monday:
I was so excited the day of surgery.
This might be a terrible comparison, but it felt kinda like the day went into the MTC.
Something I have waited for so long, and the day had finally come!
My check in time to the hospital wasn't until noon.
12 o'freakin'clock.
I just wanted to pace up and down. So many jitters and I was ready and just waiting around.
I took my shower, did my hair and got ready
mostly to pass the time, partially because apparently I'm incredibly vain.
Finally it was time to go. So we loaded up the car and off we went.
Check in was easy and casual.
Signing in, filing out paperwork, blood tests, blah blah blah.
nothing exciting.
Until I was lead into:
Pre op.
My nurse in Pre-op was so sweet. She gave me the sexiest purple gown and underwear of my life.
My mom and I were giggling so much we had to take pictures.
(if you are easily offended by underwear pictures please close your eyes here)
Oh yeah. Werkin it.
So not only was the purple gown super attractive it was also inflatable.
Yes. Inflatable.
You might notice that the purple gown has funny flaps that have connections to a warm ventilator tube.
The ventilator inflates my gown with warm air to keep me toasty before throwing me on the table.
This is called the "Bear Paw" because apparently being wrapped in bear paws is both comforting and soothing.
Actually it's a pretty cool concept.
We waited and waited until it was finally time.
My mom left for the surgery waiting area, and I was wheeled off to:
Holding.
After sitting and warming yourself in the "Bear Paw" you are wheeled to Holding where you wait for your turn to be wheeled into the O.R.
When I arrived to holding there was only one other gentleman who looked was either asleep or dead.
Luckily a few minutes later one of the nurses went to talk to him, and we woke right up.
Not that I was ease dropping but it seemed like he was going to have knee surgery.
After a short while, they rolled in a guy around my age (or maybe a little older)
who I later learned was named Devin.
As we were all just laying there staring at the ceiling,
it became quite evident that some of us were more calm than others.
I was completely fine.
The older man seemed to be trying to stay calm thinking of other things.
Devin was not handling the situation so well.
I learned quickly that this was not his first surgery.
He asked me what I was having surgery, and I told him, then I asked him the same thing.
"They will be taking out a bone graph from my hip and then placing it in my neck"
he said as he rubbed the skin behind his right ear.
He also told me that they had done this before to reconstruct the lip and jaw bone directly under his nose,
and that they were going to have to wire his jaw shut for 6 weeks again.
"Wasting another 3 months of my life" he groaned.
I was going to ask him a little more about his situation when we mentioned that the "relaxation" drug they had given him was making him dizzy and he soon fell asleep.
About 5 minutes later his Anesthesiologist came in to explain that he would need an epidural, and a feeding tube through his nose .
He instantly began to beg for a smaller tub, since the last time he had to be tub fed,
they had ripped his nostril.
Owwwww.
Suddenly I felt very grateful. Not only had I chosen this surgery,
but I compared to this kid, my recovery would be quick.
Before long, my Anesthesiologist came in and explained easily the simple procedures he would use to keep me out of pain and asleep in surgery.
Then they wheeled me off to the Operation Room.
The O.R.
I literally only having about a 10 second memory of the O.R.
A very bright, white room with country music playing.
No gallery for other surgeons to watch like in Grey's anatomy.
I guess my surgery isn't exciting enough, whatever.
I finally saw my surgeon, and he asked me if I liked the music,
I said that I didn't have to listen to it, so I didn't really care what they listened to.
He chuckled, slipped on my oxygen mask...
and I was gone.
My next memory was groaning as the transportation guy was wheeling me to my room.
I could see my mom in front of me, and I was moaning in pain and internally felt a little like this:
The Penthouse.
By the time they rolled me into my room, they kept telling my mom that I had scored the "penthouse" room.
It felt more like an awkwardly shaped long and skinny room,
and it wasn't until later that I understood what they meant.
I was just groaning and begging for pain meds.
My nurses kept telling me that I could have meds in 15 minutes.
THAT SEEMED LIKE A LIFETIME AWAY!
As soon as I was given morphine I was knocked out again.
Next, I remember my dad coming in to say hello.
For the rest of the day I was groggy and and in and out of consciousness.
I felt like I was awake probably way more than I was actually awake.
Mostly I had my parents conversing with my nurses to see how I was doing.
They would ask me all the time to rate my pain on of 1-10.
Everytime they would ask it would remind me of this pain scale from the popular blog Hyperbole and a Half.
As taken from
Hyperbole and a Half:
0: Hi. I am not experiencing any pain at all. I don't know why I'm even here.
1: I am completely unsure whether I am experiencing pain or itching or maybe I just have a bad taste in my mouth.
2: I probably just need a Band Aid.
3: This is distressing. I don't want this to be happening to me at all.
4: My pain is not f**ing around.
5: Why is this happening to me??
6: Ow. Okay, my pain is
super legit now.
7: I see Jesus coming for me and I'm scared.
8: I am experiencing a disturbing amount of pain. I might actually be dying. Please help.
9: I am almost definitely dying.
10: I am actively being mauled by a bear.
11: Blood is going to explode out of my face at any moment.
Too Serious For Numbers: You probably have ebola. It appears that you may also be suffering from Stigmata and/or pinkeye.
I often found myself bouncing between a 4 and an 8.
Luckily, I had a IV with a morphine that would almost instantly relieve any discomfort.
The first night my nurses were angelic. Well, Okay, all the nurses were so good to me, but my set the first night were my favorite. Always bringing my new medicine when I needed it, new icepacks when mine had melted, and genuinely caring for me all through the night.
I found it a little humorous that I had had such a hard time keeping my eyes open during the day, but during the night, when I
should be sleeping I would be wide awake every 2 hours when my morphine would wear off.
Tuesday
Tuesday was a great day in the hospital.
I was so lucky to have so many visitors! I wasn't expecting any!
My Aunt Laura, Uncle Herb, Lauren, Dad, Aunt Kate, Grandma and Grandpa Patterson, Shelby, Casey, Grace and Isabella.
I felt so much love, but I also felt bad because I wasn't exactly fun to be around since I was so groggy.
The worst part of the hospital.
On Tuesday I also had to do a swallow test.
Essentially, they had me swallow some dye in front of an x-ray and then they would watch the liquid go down making sure that I didn't have any leaks.
I knew that they would be coming to get me, and my two hours of my morphine were up.
I was hoping to get my pain meds before they would take me down.
I called the nurse and they said they would bring some morphine, but before they could come down, transportation was there to take me to radiology.
As I went downstairs to get my x-ray I could feel the pain setting in and I was feeling more and more uncomfortable. But I could make it, right?
When I got down there, I started talking to the girl in radiology and asked how often they found leaks.
If they found a leak, they were going to have to put me on the table again to sew up the leak!
I was relieved when she told me that in her entire time working at that hospital, they had never seen a leak from my surgeon. This brought me a lot of comfort.
I had to stand in front of the X-ray and drink the naaasssty dye as they would quickly take x-rays.
Seriously, so terribly
The problem is that they this dye is GROSS and it would burn all the way down, and it was almost too much for my thumb sized stomach to handle.
Plus, because my meds were wearing off and I had to stand,
I was shaking and thought I was going to pass out.
They made me do it multiple times, which was making me worried that something was wrong.
I could tell that they were looking at something on the x-ray, but wouldn't tell me anything until my surgeon could get me results.
So I'm in pain, and now totally stressed out that I have a leak.
A few hours later, my surgeon sent a message up that he wasn't going to be able to come up to give me the results. The good news was that I do not have a leak
but apparently I was born with a little pouch where my esophagus and my new stomach connect.
Eventually I will need to have it surgically removed, but luckily that day is not today, or in the near future.
I wish I had taken a picture of it, because it actually looks really cool.
Oh man.
I am impressed that you have made it this far in this incredibly long blog post.
I could and probably should write more, but Im just so groggy.
I have literally tried to write this post for 2 days straight, but I just keep falling asleep.
Two blog posts coming up soon:
The embarrassing part,
and
Major Meltdown numero uno.
