The day of my surgery - April 14, 2009.

Apr 26, 2009

I was unable to write in the days after my surgery - here is a recap to the best of my memory.

I had to arrive at the same day surgery section of the hospital by 6:00am.  I could hardly sleep all night, and believe I got into the bathtub at about 4:00am.  I don't know what emotions I was was feeling, but I really wasn't scared.  I just wanted it over with.  I got dressed and kissed my daughter good-bye, hoping I would still be alive by  the time she got out of school.  I woke my mom up to drive me and we were on our way.  We stopped at Dunkin Dounuts for a coffee for her, and I thought about the future drinks I would no longer enjoy from there.

Funny story at the hospital.  We go in the parking lot and I first thought I has forgot my ID and insurance cards,  I found them in my purse, right before I locked all the car keys in the van.  My mom had to crawl through the back of the van to get them and open the doors.  I took pictures of the entire event.  It was a good laugh to start off the day.  I had to wait and then check in, then they sent me to a room to put my clothes in a bag and put on a hospital gown.  I wasn't sure if I could keep at least my underwear on, and that was a big "NO".  I took one last picture of my former self and did as they said.  I was on my period and then had to go to take out the tampon that they would not let me wear either.  I still don't know the deal with that.  They gave me a pad to wear with a pair of tight net underthings, that I had to rip and tear to bring up around my thighs.  This was not a good sight.

I laid in a waiting room and had to have an EKG - because I didn't have a stress test.  I was so scared they were going to make me wait to have the surgery.  They did the EKG, and it was okay I guess, cause I was cleared.  I met the anesthesiologists and let them know about my freaking tongue swelling allergies, and they were both very nice. (Other than the fact that they both shook my hand with a big IV needle poking into it.)  I waited a little more and they let my mom come in to see me off.  I was okay until she told them to take care of me because I had a beautiful nine year old at home.  I felt tears at that point.  The nurse said she had a nine year old too, and asked my daughter's name.  That is the last thing I remember before being rolled to who knows where.

I woke up in a  larger recovery room with beds everywhere.  It was surreal to be alive, and for it all to be done with no memory.  They were having a hard time getting my lungs to inflate with air, so my recovery was a bit longer than expected.  Making me roll, squirm, and get into a different bed was hell like no other.  I could not believe they were making me change beds after all of that trauma on my body.

They move me upstairs to a room with an elderly lady who's shit smelled the air, it was terrible.  I don't remember much more.  I found some pictures on my camera of me.  My mom said the first words out of my mouth were "where's my camera"?  So I guess I shot a few pictures and went off to la-la land.

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