Those were some of the first words I heard from my sister after surgery. Before I answer it, let me tell you about the last few days...
I woke up on Tuesday morning just ready to be there and get going. Traffic on our way up was okay, i would get frustrated at certain major hwy merges and my dad needed to tell me that I was driving like a crazy person. We finally arrive at the hospital @845, not too bad since I had to be there at 9am. We 'check-in', (I swear it was like a hotel) and I get all my final paper work and I'm sent upstairs. Soon after we get to another waiting room, I'm called back. Now they really don't tell me what is going on, they just tell me to leave my bag with my dad, but if I want to bring my iPhone with me I can. They tell me to pee in this cup in that room and carry it over there and then wait. okay, sure, whatever. Then I'm ushered into another small room, where I'm handing a grocery sack, a paper gown, and socks. I looking at the guy, he is looking at me... some direction would be nice here. He finally tells me to take everything off, shove it in the bag and than go to curtain 2. Okay, I think I'm on the upper end (sometimes) of the intelligence scale--forming words and stringing them together to make sentences would really help both your day and mine! So I put this paper gown on, hold it closed so my butt isnt' showing, holding my iphone and my clothes in the other hand and trying to find curtain 2.
I now have arrived at my next location. They tell me that this is 'pre-op' and from here I'll be going on to surgery. I really didn't even have a chance to say goodbye to my dad. A kid that looks like he should be mowing the lawn comes over and tells me he'll be my 'aid' this morning. I ask him if i can put my headphones in while I wait and while they do everything so I can begin to relax. "sure, no problem". I'm rockin out to some Dave, trying to relax, taking deep breaths and I hear him talking. I pause the phone, take my headphones off--"whatcha listening too?" Really? I don't want to talk to you (that is the look and vibe I gave off (thanks Jodie for teaching me that one)). he gets my point and I go back to being a Dancing Nancie. And before I know it, a team descends on my little curtain 2 oasis like Storm Troupers and Dave was no more...
I was asked a zillion questions, asked to verify my name 100 times along with my date of birth, I had to sign here, here and here saying I might never walk out of this place, and 'hold, just a pinch here' stuck a dozen times. I was hooked up to monitors, IVs set, stockings put on my legs, glow stick on my finger, and a hair net on my head. The surgeon came in asked if I was ready and did I really know what was about to happen, I think I said 'yes', they ushered my dad in for one last goodbye and as they roll me down the hall, I hear "I love when we are ahead of schedule". What! Wait, I'm not ready! you said 11, it is only 10!!! I work for NASA, we never make our schedules! WAIT!!! "can you scoot over to this table Nicole?" "here, breathe this, all will be okay........
Holy mother !)*$%O%#@ what is that pain. Can I hear you? Yes i can hear you, get out of my face. Touch me again I'll kick you. Oh wait, if I move I hurt, if I breathe I hurt, if I blink I hurt. Please dear heaven, make this stop, make this all go away right now. Put me back to sleep, I changed my mind, I'll stop eating on my own, I'll be good, please just end this right now.
I hear my Dad gasp and I know I'm not looking too good at all. I'm in and out for the next who knows how long, but I can hear snippets of phone conversations telling people that I'm okay and I'm resting. Please stop this pain.
I don't remember exactly when I was fully aware of what was going on, that I was really in a hospital and that I had a tube in my who-ha and monitors over here and a IVs hanging there. I just was awake and feeling like I had been hit by a truck. I tried to move and every nerve ending in my mid-section screamed out and I just fell back on the bed wondering what in the world did I just do to myself. I signed up for this!?!?! I was shaking and hurt and scared and stupid and I just wanted to be home, reading a book on my phone with Brody at my feet.
Also at an unknown part of the day/night, I realized that they were taking my blood pressure way too often and my dad would tense up when they did. When I asked what was wrong, they said it was way too high (one point it was like 190/120 for several hours) and were just going to monitor it right now and wait to see if they needed to do anything about it. Jeez, I have really put my life in danger over food haven't I--another brilliant move Nicole.
While my dad went down to grab some dinner, another high school buddy of the 'aid' downstairs came into make me walk. Whatever kiddo, get the F out of my room. Good for him for standing up to me and forcing me to walk. As horrible as I felt, it really did feel good to move around. We did a few small laps and then I went back to sitting in a chair.
That night was horrible, I couldn't get comfortable and they were in every hour on the 15 to check my temp and BP. It was still thru the roof. I was nauseated and they gave me a few shots in my tush to help with that along with a few in my gut to help with blood clots. Why, why did I do this again?!
The next morning I was excited to get all the post-op stuff done and get home. It took them forever to get me down to radiology to do a leak test. There was a tech that wanted to tell me all about his gastric bypass while he threw me around the room like a rag doll (at least that is how it felt). When I was going to yack on their million $ equipment, he didn't move too fast to help me. (hey, learned a cool trick, if you are going to spew, smell an alcohol pad... stopped everything instantly). I finally finish drinking the radioactive juice and they tell me I'm done. I have to hear the tech stories all the way back up to my room. Even dad was like 'jackass" when he left. LOL
I was feeling better than the day before, but I just wanted to know if my leak test came back okay so I can have the tube pulled out of my who-ha and I can have drink of water. As I was waiting, I can remember sitting up in the bed, leaning over to a pillow and thinking "this has to be better than open heart surgery". thinking about what both my parents went through, about not having a choice that their chests were ripped open and having to deal with healing from that, I knew that I was just being a big ninny and I did do the right thing. I needed to walk, walk, walk and get my BP down and get the hell out of this place.
My labs didn't come back until late in the afternoon, my tubes weren't pulled until even later than that, I hadn't had oral pain meds yet, nor a drink of water and I was on shot #3 for nausea. We ran into the Surgeon while doing our rounds around the floor, he said I wasn't looking too good, my BP was still high and I shouldn't go home without reaching all my milestones in the hospital. Fine, I'll stay another night...
We walked again about midnight, I was determined to meet every goal by the time the dr came in the morning. I drank and I pee'd on my own (even had a #2) and I could also get up and out of bed on my own. My BP went down, but my temp was kinda up, but only for an hour or so. by 8am, my dad had the room packed, I was sitting up ready for whatever the dr wanted to do to me. He came in about 830, and he immediately could tell I was doing better! I was doing better, I felt better! He checked my gut and asked me a few questions. And then before he leaves he tells me this: "the biggest compliant I get from my patients is that they can't eat as much as they used too"
I looked at him wondering if that was a trick statement or something, not really knowing how to respond.
"isn't that the point!?"
"exactly! you're ready to go home."
Dad and I were out the door by 10:45 and on our way back home. HOME! Home is a great place to be. I took a nice looooong shower, followed up on some texts and just crashed.
Stacy called me later that night... "so, was it worth it?"
Yes, yes it was worth it. I still hurt, and I'm still tired, but I get stronger and stronger each day, each hour even, it is amazing. The biggest thing I can complain about right now is that my incisions feel like tiny rows of mosquito bites and they are driving me crazy. I can't watching anything funny either, laughing hurts. But all is good.
I cannot close this post without thanking all my friends for their love and support. My gosh, my phone never stopped beeping or ringing with calls and texts. My dad would read them as they would pop up and he would tell me I was lucky each time. If I did actually speak to any of you, I'm sorry if I made no sense or if I don't remember, I honestly was THAT out of it. thank you for the continued texts of support and visits to help me with Brody. All of them I can never repay.
More posts to follow... this is going to be a crazy ride and I see lots to report about...
I woke up on Tuesday morning just ready to be there and get going. Traffic on our way up was okay, i would get frustrated at certain major hwy merges and my dad needed to tell me that I was driving like a crazy person. We finally arrive at the hospital @845, not too bad since I had to be there at 9am. We 'check-in', (I swear it was like a hotel) and I get all my final paper work and I'm sent upstairs. Soon after we get to another waiting room, I'm called back. Now they really don't tell me what is going on, they just tell me to leave my bag with my dad, but if I want to bring my iPhone with me I can. They tell me to pee in this cup in that room and carry it over there and then wait. okay, sure, whatever. Then I'm ushered into another small room, where I'm handing a grocery sack, a paper gown, and socks. I looking at the guy, he is looking at me... some direction would be nice here. He finally tells me to take everything off, shove it in the bag and than go to curtain 2. Okay, I think I'm on the upper end (sometimes) of the intelligence scale--forming words and stringing them together to make sentences would really help both your day and mine! So I put this paper gown on, hold it closed so my butt isnt' showing, holding my iphone and my clothes in the other hand and trying to find curtain 2.
I now have arrived at my next location. They tell me that this is 'pre-op' and from here I'll be going on to surgery. I really didn't even have a chance to say goodbye to my dad. A kid that looks like he should be mowing the lawn comes over and tells me he'll be my 'aid' this morning. I ask him if i can put my headphones in while I wait and while they do everything so I can begin to relax. "sure, no problem". I'm rockin out to some Dave, trying to relax, taking deep breaths and I hear him talking. I pause the phone, take my headphones off--"whatcha listening too?" Really? I don't want to talk to you (that is the look and vibe I gave off (thanks Jodie for teaching me that one)). he gets my point and I go back to being a Dancing Nancie. And before I know it, a team descends on my little curtain 2 oasis like Storm Troupers and Dave was no more...
I was asked a zillion questions, asked to verify my name 100 times along with my date of birth, I had to sign here, here and here saying I might never walk out of this place, and 'hold, just a pinch here' stuck a dozen times. I was hooked up to monitors, IVs set, stockings put on my legs, glow stick on my finger, and a hair net on my head. The surgeon came in asked if I was ready and did I really know what was about to happen, I think I said 'yes', they ushered my dad in for one last goodbye and as they roll me down the hall, I hear "I love when we are ahead of schedule". What! Wait, I'm not ready! you said 11, it is only 10!!! I work for NASA, we never make our schedules! WAIT!!! "can you scoot over to this table Nicole?" "here, breathe this, all will be okay........
Holy mother !)*$%O%#@ what is that pain. Can I hear you? Yes i can hear you, get out of my face. Touch me again I'll kick you. Oh wait, if I move I hurt, if I breathe I hurt, if I blink I hurt. Please dear heaven, make this stop, make this all go away right now. Put me back to sleep, I changed my mind, I'll stop eating on my own, I'll be good, please just end this right now.
I hear my Dad gasp and I know I'm not looking too good at all. I'm in and out for the next who knows how long, but I can hear snippets of phone conversations telling people that I'm okay and I'm resting. Please stop this pain.
I don't remember exactly when I was fully aware of what was going on, that I was really in a hospital and that I had a tube in my who-ha and monitors over here and a IVs hanging there. I just was awake and feeling like I had been hit by a truck. I tried to move and every nerve ending in my mid-section screamed out and I just fell back on the bed wondering what in the world did I just do to myself. I signed up for this!?!?! I was shaking and hurt and scared and stupid and I just wanted to be home, reading a book on my phone with Brody at my feet.
Also at an unknown part of the day/night, I realized that they were taking my blood pressure way too often and my dad would tense up when they did. When I asked what was wrong, they said it was way too high (one point it was like 190/120 for several hours) and were just going to monitor it right now and wait to see if they needed to do anything about it. Jeez, I have really put my life in danger over food haven't I--another brilliant move Nicole.
While my dad went down to grab some dinner, another high school buddy of the 'aid' downstairs came into make me walk. Whatever kiddo, get the F out of my room. Good for him for standing up to me and forcing me to walk. As horrible as I felt, it really did feel good to move around. We did a few small laps and then I went back to sitting in a chair.
That night was horrible, I couldn't get comfortable and they were in every hour on the 15 to check my temp and BP. It was still thru the roof. I was nauseated and they gave me a few shots in my tush to help with that along with a few in my gut to help with blood clots. Why, why did I do this again?!
The next morning I was excited to get all the post-op stuff done and get home. It took them forever to get me down to radiology to do a leak test. There was a tech that wanted to tell me all about his gastric bypass while he threw me around the room like a rag doll (at least that is how it felt). When I was going to yack on their million $ equipment, he didn't move too fast to help me. (hey, learned a cool trick, if you are going to spew, smell an alcohol pad... stopped everything instantly). I finally finish drinking the radioactive juice and they tell me I'm done. I have to hear the tech stories all the way back up to my room. Even dad was like 'jackass" when he left. LOL
I was feeling better than the day before, but I just wanted to know if my leak test came back okay so I can have the tube pulled out of my who-ha and I can have drink of water. As I was waiting, I can remember sitting up in the bed, leaning over to a pillow and thinking "this has to be better than open heart surgery". thinking about what both my parents went through, about not having a choice that their chests were ripped open and having to deal with healing from that, I knew that I was just being a big ninny and I did do the right thing. I needed to walk, walk, walk and get my BP down and get the hell out of this place.
My labs didn't come back until late in the afternoon, my tubes weren't pulled until even later than that, I hadn't had oral pain meds yet, nor a drink of water and I was on shot #3 for nausea. We ran into the Surgeon while doing our rounds around the floor, he said I wasn't looking too good, my BP was still high and I shouldn't go home without reaching all my milestones in the hospital. Fine, I'll stay another night...
We walked again about midnight, I was determined to meet every goal by the time the dr came in the morning. I drank and I pee'd on my own (even had a #2) and I could also get up and out of bed on my own. My BP went down, but my temp was kinda up, but only for an hour or so. by 8am, my dad had the room packed, I was sitting up ready for whatever the dr wanted to do to me. He came in about 830, and he immediately could tell I was doing better! I was doing better, I felt better! He checked my gut and asked me a few questions. And then before he leaves he tells me this: "the biggest compliant I get from my patients is that they can't eat as much as they used too"
I looked at him wondering if that was a trick statement or something, not really knowing how to respond.
"isn't that the point!?"
"exactly! you're ready to go home."
Dad and I were out the door by 10:45 and on our way back home. HOME! Home is a great place to be. I took a nice looooong shower, followed up on some texts and just crashed.
Stacy called me later that night... "so, was it worth it?"
Yes, yes it was worth it. I still hurt, and I'm still tired, but I get stronger and stronger each day, each hour even, it is amazing. The biggest thing I can complain about right now is that my incisions feel like tiny rows of mosquito bites and they are driving me crazy. I can't watching anything funny either, laughing hurts. But all is good.
I cannot close this post without thanking all my friends for their love and support. My gosh, my phone never stopped beeping or ringing with calls and texts. My dad would read them as they would pop up and he would tell me I was lucky each time. If I did actually speak to any of you, I'm sorry if I made no sense or if I don't remember, I honestly was THAT out of it. thank you for the continued texts of support and visits to help me with Brody. All of them I can never repay.
More posts to follow... this is going to be a crazy ride and I see lots to report about...
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