The surgery was last Friday and it went off without a hitch. 

I had to be at the doctor’s office at 8:30am so they could insert the wire to direct the surgeon to the rolly little tumor ball.  I was a wee bit nervous about that, but it was a breeze.  We were to the hospital shortly after 9:30am. 

The hospital, or “surgery center” was really nice.  There was a waiting area, like at a doctor’s office, but there was a big long row of complimentary fountain drinks and snack machines (not that I could enjoy anything from them, but R definitely appreciated it).  I was worried that he’d be bored out of his mind, having to sit there for 3 or 4 hours but he was allowed to come right back with me.  It was a decent sized room with a television.  I was glad to have the company of my Boo, because let’s face it, I was getting really nervous.  At the same time, I was really sleepy after not being able to sleep the night before so I snoozed off and on for the couple of hours between checking in and the actual procedure.  No complaints so far.

One thing I didn’t consider, for whatever reason, was that I would have an IV.  (Duh).  I knew I’d be under anesthesia, but having never had surgery before, I assumed that they’d administer it via one of those gas masky thingies.  I didn’t even think about the fact that I’d have antibiotics via IV as well.  So I’m lying in the hospital bed in our holding cell, er, room, and in comes the nurse saying she’s going to put my IV in. 

My whutdidyoujustsay?

I had an IV when I had Theo and I was super scared about it.  I remembered that it was no big deal and that my L&D nurse put the IV in so smoothly that I barely felt it.  I took a deep breath and reassured myself that this experience would be just the same.  No.  It hurt going in.  Bad.  And the crazy thing was that while the one nurse was putting in the IV, another nurse or patient liaison or whatever she was was standing on the other side of me, telling me about my after-care and about all these consents I was going to sign as soon as my IV was in.  I’m sure the point was to distract me, but what do they think I am? Some kind of idiot? 

I only halfway paid attention to her and it was really hard to look at the dumb papers she was holding in front of me while my eyes were full of tears because my arm hurt so bad.  But honestly, that was the most painful part of the whole thing.  Shortly after 11:30, they wheeled me back to the OR and much to my surprise, it looked a lot like the ones you see on television.  It was all white and very bright and there were lots of people running around all scrubbed up.  I also noticed that it was approximately 22 degrees in there. 

While I was lying there, the anesthesiologist I had just met about 10 minutes earlier said he was starting my anesthesia.  I remember that I was awake and then I wasn’t.  There was no inbetween.  I woke up and there was a blue paper over my face.  At first I thought “OH GOD! I’m not supposed to be awake!”  I was too out of it to move my arms so I just moved my head back and forth a couple of times and someone eventually moved the blue thingy off my face and said that everything went perfectly.  What? You’re done already? Sweet.

A minute or two later I was back in my room with my hubby and I could not stay awake.  We were there in recovery for another hour and a half.  Most of that time we were waiting for L&D to come down and check the fetal heart tones, which were perfect.  We left the hospital, picked up my pain meds, and went home. 

My wonderful, sweet husband took good care of me and our baby boy.  I slept a LOT over the weekend.  Ridiculous amounts.  It felt so good.  Hey, maybe it had something to do with the surgery, maybe it didn’t.  Either way, I had a good reason to sleep. 

I’m sure it did have something to do with the surgery…I slept from 3-8pm on Saturday, then went to bed at 2am, slept til 8am Sunday.  Then napped from 9-11am and again from 2-3pm.  I might have also “napped” from 3:30-7:30 Sunday.  I could not shake the exhaustion.  I was sad to miss an annual Christmas party on Saturday night that we always go to, but I was in no position to be socializing, baking goodies, carrying Theo around, etc.

The good, no, GREAT! news is that I barely needed my pain meds.  I took them Friday and Saturday and that was it.  The incision site has been sore and sure looks ugly but it hasn’t been terribly miserable.  It’s far better than an oral surgery I had a couple of years ago.  THAT was the worst.  Shew.  They are supposed to call me in “3 to 4 business days” with the pathology results and I will schedule my follow-up then.

And that is the very boring story of my first surgery. 

Healing well,
~C~