Well, yesterday was the day. I got up at 4:45am, took a shower with Hibiclens, dried off, and got dressed. I pounded 40oz of Gatorade, per instruction, and took my meds (on an otherwise empty stomach, which sucked). Got to the hospital at 6am, checked in. Got into the pre-op room, got naked, wiped down with Hibiclens wipes, got into my (extremely uncomfortable) gown, put on the (awful, hideously uncomfortable, seam-across-the-toe) rubber grip slippers, and got into bed. A few dozen questions, a couple of pee breaks (damn Gatorade) and one IV later, Lee had to go to work, and I was given a whole mess of drugs. I was loopy LONG before I hit the OR, didn't have to do any countdown, and don't remember anything of the surgery.
The OR was booked for 2 hours, but I was told the surgery itself typically only takes about 60-90 minutes. When the doctor called Lee, he said the surgery went "better than textbook" and took all of 45 minutes. I was brought to recovery.
I woke up in a panic attack. I'm not entirely surprised. The only other time I've even been remotely knocked out like this, I woke up much the same way. (To be fair, that time, the anaesthetic wore off before the paralytic, and I could tell exactly what was going on, but I wasn't able to move or speak to alert anyone.) When I say I woke up in a panic attack, I mean I couldn't open my eyes, I was whimpering, sobbing, and unable to speak. I could move, but couldn't get my mouth to work. The nurse I was with was trying to get me to talk, but it was slow going. While I was trying to get my head and mouth in sync, I somehow remembered that I can almost sign. So I started trying to finger-spell "panic attack" and "clonazepam". Unfortunately, when I caught the nurse's attention, she didn't understand ASL, so I was out of luck there. (To be fair, it was probably really sloppy, so even if she did, there's no guarantee it would have been coherent). It took me a few minutes to calm down and choke out that I was having a panic attack. Very shortly after, I was given something to help. No clue what it was, but I calmed down and was brought to an actual room.
I was asleep for quite a while. I woke up around lunch time, whereupon I was given clear liquids - two bowls of "chicken broth" that tasted more like somebody emptied a bedpan into a Campbell's soup can. I took one spoonful and gave it a hearty "fuck that". I was still very much nauseous, so I wasn't too upset. I slept for a while longer. I got a call from food services to organize my dinner and breakfast. I slept some more. I received my dinner, which was some kind of fish, carrots, and brown rice. It sounded like it was going to be good, but I opened the lid, and nearly threw up immediately. I was too nauseated to be bothered even trying to eat. I drank half of my tea, and the nurse brought me some ginger ale and crackers. I spent most of the evening bitching about the catheter. I felt like I had to pee the entire time, to the point of pain. It wasn't supposed to come out until 6am, but I made enough noise about it that the nurses called and got the go ahead to remove it well before midnight. I was able to pee on my own twice before 2am, which was all they needed to keep the catheter out. I took a walk around the ward, which was much to the pleasure of the nurses.
Around 2am, there was a blood draw to check CBC, specifically looking for a high enough RBC and any signs of infection. At 6am, the doctor came in. Blood count was basically perfect, incisions look good, and I was deemed free to go home.
Unfortunately, the insurance company was kind of a dick about the meds. I was ordered a narcotic (not my first choice, but...) for 8 days, but the insurance company requires prior authorization for any narcotic prescribed for more than 7 days. So because of a single additional day, I had to wait until after 2pm to get any real pain meds. I was doing ok earlier, but 12 hours without pain control has me hurting.
Peeing is weird. Pain is radiating up into my ribcage. Right now, things are quite uncomfortable. But I'm mobile, and the pain isn't so bad that I'm rethinking my choices. I'm aware it's going to be a bit of a road for recovery. There are 4 tiny incisions, and none are particularly painful unless they're pressed on. Coughing sucks, burping is worse. Hiccups are fucking deadly at this point. Because I was intubated, I've got a ton of mucus and a quire sore throat, but nothing abnormal.
I go back to the doctor to get checked in 3 weeks. We'll see what happens then.
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