ONE DAY AT A TIME (July 1)

 

Happy post-surgery number 4! Oddly enough, it's feels better to stand than to sit, an exerciser's dream. Though I have been warned multiple times to limit the walking for a bit "Wonder Woman". So I will sit at the laptop for a bit. Most of the pain is from the incision site that is easily relieved by not moving; talk about your irony. I have the happy pills, but don't see that they change much (taken 2) so as long as I can sleep on my side, I'm good. I'm also cursed with the need to use good posture-bummer. Slouching is out. 

Got a cryptic text from an unknown sender the day before surgery that said you have a procedure at 9:30 not 12:15. Bring ID and medical card. I could only assume it was the awesome AI that Sparrow uses. Confusing, but apparently correct on the timing. Even though I never made the OR until at least 1:00 pm.

In pre-op, as nerves and the 20 oz of Gatorade they made me drink kept me visiting (whether I needed to or not) the restroom, I was not there when the volunteer came around to check us in. Upon my return, she asked if my driver was leaving and then coming back to fetch me pointing to the OH. I said he better after 53 years of carting me around. What the hell? He said she asked him if he was the patient and he said no, I'm the driver. Well technically correct and he did not want to be mistaken for the one going under the knife. For the record I had to hit the john twice more after the IV's were in as they were so far behind before it was my turn. Apparently not unusual as when I pushed the call button the nurse popped in and said bathroom? 

 Being fully awake as I was wheeled in was disconcerting. I wish I could describe the table they put you on for the procedure. Think massage table with the face cut out resembling more of a conveyor belt than a mattress. It had a couple of foam pads in strategic spots, but how the hell they maneuver you perfectly on this narrow metal torture platform I have no idea. Resident told me, well there were 4 of us to put you on. One of the anesthesia nurses good naturedly described it as a massage table but no massage. Well, it certainly feels like they were doing the salsa on my back afterwards-just my thought. It was like I was in a James Bond movie. "Do you intend to torture me for information? No Mr. Bond I intend to kill you" kind of vibe.

Last thing I remember was seeing my vital stats displayed on a, no other way to describe it, jumbo-tron on the facing wall. What stood out to me was my middle name Eileen which was interesting as it is both my mother's and daughter's middle name as well, so I was in good company before blackout time. Best part when I came back to the living around five, they offered me a popsicle - bless you, and grape my favorite! I actually managed to polish it off before they got me to my hospital room. Did I mention I had been without nourishment (except Gatorade) since midnight the night before? It was purple ambrosia although I startled my visitors with a black tongue later. Part of my dinner was a cup of grapes which my son-in-law ordered me to eat as I actually didn't have much of an appetite after being loaded up with drugs from surgery. Never had a twinge from my back all night however...until it wears off. 

My grandson stood to one side and kept asking me how I was feeling and how much he enjoyed the talks we have. It dawned on me that he had been worried and seeing me tied up to the IV in a hospital must have upset him more than I realized. He did lose his other grandpa unexpectedly. I shared some of my dinner with him and assured him everything was cool. In addition to them rallying around being hilarious (a family trait during emergencies) I'm guessing the last three grapes they forced me to eat made all the difference. My sister still hasn't forgiven me for being, I thought, quite entertaining during her labor and delivery. Well, she wanted us to be there. 

 Though they were pretty good at not waking me to do "stuff" my bathroom breaks seemed to coincide with their need to take BP, etc. Then the light popped on at 6:15 when I was totally out, and the Doctor's resident was there to pull the siphon out of my back. However, we had already handled that task on one of my potty breaks. The tech asked me if I wanted to see it and I said sure. That nasty thing was about 4 or 5 inches long and covered with, oh never mind. I cannot tell you the number of people who were privy to my backside-geez. Since I can't see it, not sure if my lone tattoo was harmed in any way. Can't wait to take a shower tomorrow. Very scientifically the instructions stated that when I shower, I must cover the incision with press and seal. When I asked what that was, the Doc said Cling Wrap.  LOL. 

Ok time to grab some Gatorade Zero and try to get up and moving without groaning. The OH did get me a grabber tool as I am not supposed to bend, twist or lift anything heavier than paper clip. I'm getting rather good at it figuring out difficult lifts and grabbing oddly shaped objects.  Peace out...💚  💛💙