Something old, something new...

Aug 14, 2009

Hey everybody! I'm home and sleeved and feeling a little crazy right about now. I do feel the need to start writing about my experience though. This experience is not for the faint-hearted nor the one who thinks that everything falls into place immediately after surgery. Let me explain...

Well surgery day came and went as uneventful as ever...even with my nerves kicking into high gear.  When we arrived at the hospital we were told to go to the 10th floor and there I would be taken care of and admitted. Everything and everyone went according to plan and I was whisked off behind the tightly closed doors into an area that we knew was the final resting place, if you will, for those of us who were trading in something old for something new.

I entered into a small curtain contained room where I was told to undress and put on a gown and a robe over that. The nurse said someone would be in shortly to take my vitals and the anesthesiologist would also come in to chat with me. They did. The anesthesiologist reminded me of a ninja...he slipped into my little room behind the curtain, introduced himself and asked me a couple of questions and with that he was gone. I remember thinking, "What was that guy's name?" My family was kinda standing around during that time and came back in once the room was clear. It was almost my time...I could feel it.  My hubby couldn't keep still, my sister sat closely by my right side, my daughter was sitting on the other side leaning on me like she did when she was little and my 4-year old grandson James lay on my lap staring into my eyes looking just a bit suspicious. Talk about graven images...this felt too weird for me. Thank God that everyone was still able to speak positive words that kept reminding me why I was there. I found comfort in that. Within minutes the OR nurse comes in with one of the BRIGHTEST smiles I've ever seen in my life and tells me, "....it's time to go..." And off I went. Parting kisses and hugs and well wishes followed me as we embarked upon the first leg of my journey...getting to the OR.

This had to be the largest OR area known to mankind. When she opened the door all you could see were gernies, doors, numbers and signs, people behind masks and more doors. We must've walked for what seemed like 3-4 minutes. Winding corridors and closed doors with masked people behind them and strangely lit overhead lights hanging in the distance were my reminders. My mind was racing a mile a minute...OR...operating room...I'm about to be cut...what the *&&**(#$#@!

Then I saw it...the last door at the end of the hall. This is it...I can't remember if it said OR 14 or OR 17. Either way (and yes, this is pre-anesthesia so I don't remember now) the numbers jumped out and screamed at me. As the nurse opened the door I glanced to my right and saw the ninja anesthesiologist inviting me to come in and lie down. They helped me disrobe, half way and onto the table I went. As I lay there tears streamed down my cheeks. I looked over to the nurse and said "I can't believe I'm crying." She comforted me telling me that many people do this. All of a sudden I felt a slight pinch on my left arm and looked over. Speech was soon a memory, but I remember blurting out, "oh, I thought i felt..." and that was it....lala land here I come. The old Ronnie was being put down in order that the new Ronnie could be resurrected.

I do remember the light over my head though and how bright it was. Interesting thing that light and what we associate with it. That light...new beginnings, at the end of a tunnel, life and resurrection and on and on...

recovery, to be continued...

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