Surgery Day

January 21, 2009

It’s done!

My tonsils are out and everything went well. The morning started out like normal. Mom came to stay with the girls. Jon and I dropped K off at school and we headed to the ENT Center. We were told to arrive at 9 am and we were actually on time.

I answered lots of question and signed more forms.

Then it was time to change into my gown. I was so excited to learn that I could wear a sports bra and elastic waist shorts under my hospital gown. So no sneak peeks of my hot bod by anyone as I walked to the OR.

It was time to start my IV. The nurse came at me with the first needle. She stuck it in the back of my hand.

The vein rolled. She chased.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

She finally got the vein.

It blew.

We started all over again.

She got the second one and now the purple lump on the back of my hand is the only visible sign to most of the surgery today.

My surgeon and the anesthesiologist both came in to talk to me and see if I had any last minute questions.

They told me that I would feel like crap today, but tomorrow would be worse. Nice.

They also told me that the anesthesia could cause an exacerbation of my MS. They were taking precautions to minimize that chance. I was not going to get a muscle paralyzer during surgery and they were not going to let me get too warmed up in recovery.

I was really, really nervous, but I didn’t back out at the last minute.

Another nurse came to get me and lead the way to the OR room. I chatted for a few minutes with the nurse and the anesthesiologist.

The oxygen mask was placed on my face and he started to push some medicine in my IV line. It made me cough. He said it may burn and I told him I could taste it in the back of my throat.

“What does it taste like?” he asked.

“It tastes like funk,” I replied.

Then the world went dark.

I woke up in the recovery room a short time later. They were making me drink some pain medicine.

I remember someone saying something about vacation so I announced our vacation plans.

“We’re going to New York. For our anniversary,” I said as I flung my left arm in the air with enthusiasm. “Ten years!”

Two people were getting me off of the stretcher and getting me to walk to a recliner for the remainder of my recovery. I asked for Jon. They said they would get him. I asked what time I was. 10:30.

We slowly walked a very short distance. My legs felt like jelly, but the short nurses were surprisingly strong and held me up. I asked if I could spit. They said no. My saliva was so thick and it was hard to swallow. I really wanted to spit.

We finally arrived at the chair. I asked for Jon. They said they would get him. I asked if I could spit. The answer was still no. Darn. I asked what time it was.

Still 10:30. It wasn’t such a long trip after all.

Jon arrived and I dozed in the chair. When the nurse went to get him, she reported I was a funny drunk.

My nurse checked on me frequently. She checked my blood pressure, oxygen levels, refilled my cup of Sprite, and denied my request to spit.

I showed everyone I could blow spit bubbles. I don’t know what else screams classy chick as much as spit bubbles.

Jon sat in the chair next to me watching Comedy Central, laughing his butt off. If you know Jon, you know the laugh I’m talking about. I have never heard someone who laughs so much out loud at the TV. When he thinks something is funny, he really thinks it’s funny and everyone around knows he thinks it’s funny.

After a bit, the nurse just had to find out what he was watching. I have no clue since I was in and out of it for most of the time.

The people on the other side of the wall were then discharged and sent home. You had to walk past my recliner to get outside.

As they left, they waved at me and said they hoped I felt better. They acted like they knew me. Makes me wonder what else I did or said that I don’t remember.

I finished my fourth cup of Sprite. My nurse removed my IV.

Finally, it was time for me to go home. I went to the bathroom to use the facilities and change back into my jeans. I kept on the not so cute, but comfy slip resistant socks they gave me when I arrived.

Discharge instructions were given and Jon went to get the car. I was feeling decent enough to go home. Jon was handed a puke bucket on the way out, just in case.

The trip was pretty uneventful until we were just a few miles from home.

The nausea started.

After we were in our neighborhood-a few blocks from home-I learned what it was like to vomit after a tonsillectomy.

I told Jon to keep driving. I wanted to get home and stop moving. I settled myself on the sofa and felt better. I think the movement was just too much for me.

Little M cuddled up on the sofa with me and I continued to drink Sprite. Jon made me a wonderful milkshake and I ate some pudding.

Jon and mom are doing a wonderful job taking care of me and the kids. A personal nurse and a nanny. A girl can get used to this.

I finished reading my book. I enjoyed it.

I took more pain medicine. They said I needed to take it every four hours, around the clock.

I took a nap. When I woke up, it was hard to talk. I felt like I had a bubble in my throat. It was that way before my nap too, but it was worse.

I realized it’s because my uvula is so swollen. A uvula is the hangy down thing in the back of your throat. Mine is so swollen, it’s sitting on the back of my tongue.

Two sweet friends brought flowers for me and dinner for Jon and the girls tonight. It smelled delicious.

I finished another milkshake. I’m doing very well drinking. It really does make the pain better.

Jon just brought me another dose of pain medicine. I’m getting a bit loopy so I better stop writing now.

I will update as the days pass.

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