The Next Step

My Surgery:

March 25, 2014

We arrived at St. Francis Hospital in Roslyn, New York a few minutes early; therefore we were instructed to sit in the waiting.  I don't remember filling out much , if any, paperwork.  My heart began beating out of my chest the whole 15 minutes we were in the waiting room, which felt like an hour.  When my name was finally called, I walked up to the nurse who then immediately asked (for the 1,957,898th time) what my name and birthdate were; begrudgingly I answered with a huge attitude. (My husband gave me the evil eye for that one- hehe)  Next, was the worst part of all- I was told to take off ALL of my clothes and then put that stupid gown on- I honestly HATE being told to put on one of those stupid gowns that smell like sh*t and god only knows who wore it before me,  what they washed it in or even if they washed it!  Needless to say I have a very big issue with those gowns.  

Anyways, after all of that drama, I climbed into the hospital bed (which I find to be very uncomfortable) and a nurse came over to begin my IV, which I also dislike but not as much as the gown situation.  At that point, my sister and my aunt arrived.  They were chatting with me and as random people (visitors to other patients, doctors, or nurses) walked by, phrases like 'what are you looking at?' or 'what the f*ck do you want?' just "slipped" out of my mouth.  Since, I was being a crazy lunatic to everyone that walked by, it was requested (by my husband) that they give me a sedative.  My plastic surgeon had then come by to draw on me (another thing that I disliked but I understood why) and again he looked at me like I was an art piece and I knew that he was going to make sure that I would be as back to my old self as possible.  Just as he was finishing up, my mom and brother showed up.   A little background about my mom, she likes to talk and she talks even faster when she is nervous or scared.  So when my breast surgeon came over to talk to us about the procedure and the tests that they still had to do on me (which would be done after I was sedated), there went  my mother yapping it up with the doctor.  My husband was getting so frustrated that I thought he was going to reach across the hospital bed and tape her mouth shut (LOL).  The next thing I remember was a nurse coming by and giving me a shot via the IV- this made me very drowsy.  My husband then, as calmly as he could, asked everyone to make their way to the waiting room.  He then leaned over and expressed his love for me and wished me luck as they rolled me out.  (again, these details are a little fuzzy as the sedative started working). 

Looking back at this experience, it is my opinion that it was perfectly reasonable that I felt anxious, scared, and angry before going into surgery.  I was going in there with all of me and was only going to leave with 80 % of me at the same time be on painkillers and antibiotics and some other pills that I just took blindly.  (We will get more into emotions later).  

  

I remember being brought into an EXTREMELY cold white room with bright lights.  They asked me, if I could, to move onto this colder smaller and more uncomfortable bed then I was already on- but at this point I did everything they asked with a smile on my face- hehe.  (So a little background information- when I was at work about a week before this day, my co-worker said that when she had to have surgery she requested that the nurse tell her a joke before she was sedated- just so that the last thing that I heard before going under was something funny.)  So I did just that- I made sure that the nurse told me a funny joke before I went under: what do you call a bear with no teeth?  a gummy bear.  Well, I guess I laughed and then fell right to sleep.

When I 'woke up', I could feel my mom's hand on my hand.  I knew it was hers because I could feel her nails.  I remember groaning because I could feel pain that was intense- well I quickly passed back out again; later to find out that a nurse heard me and gave me a painkiller via my IV again.  I honestly have no idea how much time passed by but when I finally really woke up- I saw my mom at my bedside.  I asked her where Peter was and she said he went to go get food.  I didn't feel any pain, or anything for that matter for a long time after that- I felt like I was on drugs- well I guess I was- LOL.  I do not remember much of the recovery room, except this one woman (or man- I am not sure) started coughing and dry heaving.  Well, that was it for me- I NEEDED to get out of there.  I don't remember waiting a long time before they rolled me up to my room (apparently with these surgeries- it had to be an over night stay; which was fine with me- I just wanted to be left alone to sleep.)

My husband settled me in and made sure that I didn't need anything and then he went home.  I could imagine it was a very long day for him.  Not too much later, I fell right back asleep....