Tuesday, January 9

Surgery details

Okay, so... I know I kind of promised a drugged-up post in my last post, but I'm pretty much done taking drugs that will screw me up.

In my defense, when I wrote that "promise post," I was high on percocet. So... that'll have to do.

Oh so the surgery went well... except for afterward. All of the pre-surgery was great. I got along famously with my nurses, hung out with my IV coming out of my arm, complimented my surgeons on their cool hat things. The last exchange I had before going under was between me and the anesthesiologist:

"So in about 20 seconds, you'll feel a stinging sensation..."

"Wait, are you going to tell me when you do it?" For some reason, I wanted to know when to start the countdown. I didn't want to just suddenly lose control and be unable to get out my last words in case I had something really important to say. Which I did not.

"Oh, you wanted me to tell you?"

Shit! I could go at any instant. "Yes I want you to tell me!" I started feeling a stinging sensation behind my nose while he informed me that he had already administered the anesthetic.

One of the nurses came into view and said "Has anyone ever told you that you look like Angelina Jolie?"

"Yeah," I responded distractedly. "Okay, goodbye now!" I announced. Right before losing consciousness, I remember hearing "She's really pretty."

Waking up was not quite as fun. I was greeted by a nurse holding an oxygen mask over my face, asking me about the pain, which was horrendous. "It hurts!" I yelled with as much restraint as possible. They didn't warn me about that part.

She ran around and returned with some drug to put in my IV. "There you go, it should start to work soon." I waited for the flood of relief.

...

By the way, those painkillers they use in TV shows are fake because this crap definitely did not work immediately. That or the hospitals should really take notes from TV doctors. The pain didn't go away. "How is it feeling now?" asked the nurse.

"It still hurts," I whined. Why didn't she give me the imaginary, quick medicine? I had drip running right into my vein; why was it taking so long? She could at least leave the room so I could cry by myself (sorry, there was an old man next to me who I'm pretending wasn't there).

"I can't give you any more painkillers," she explained soothingly, "I've already given you two doses."

I glared at her and grudgingly accepted her offer of cranberry juice and pudding. She then wheeled me over to a recliner, forcing me to move (more glaring), and then brought my family back. I was not pleased. All I wanted was some more anesthesia, or a room alone in which to cry. Bringing concerned people to me was not my plan B.

When the pain died down (finally) I asked my mom, "So, what did the doctor say when he came out to see you after the surgery?"

"What were his exact words?" My mom asked, flabbergasted. As though this were an outrageous and unexpected question.

"Uh yeah? What did he tell you?" You know... how'd it go?

"Oh, I don't remember."

Superb. "Well, generally then. What did you find out?"

"He said they didn't find a tear like they thought they would, and they were able to clear out a lot of irritation that was there, so that's good."

That's it? What was wrong with me then? Why did I just have surgery? They weren't really sure. "They did find that you have a missing piece of cartilage, though."

What? When the surgeon came by, I tried to ask him about the meaning of all of this, and he just smiled and said we would talk later. Thanks, hero! I'm going to rest easy now that I have no clue what's going on.

I tried to spend the drug daze of the next 48 hours reading, but it's kind of hard to stay awake when you're on drugs. I would have blogged, but I couldn't sit up to type. So I watched my surgery video, finished one (count it!) Sudoku puzzle, and let my stepdad teach me the rules of football.

Yesterday I became frightened when I saw only half of my painkillers left, and started devising ways to ration them out to make them last as long as possible. By my calculations, I should have finished most of them today, but I skipped a few doses for reasons unknown, so I can either enjoy them later or sell them to classmates. Or feel guilty about considering using them recreationally and refuse to sell them in case I decide to change my mind and do it anyway.

Until my post-op appointment with the surgeon (a week), all I can think about is being a 20-year-old cripple. Sexy.

15 comments:

caramaena said...

I'm sorry to laugh, but the image of your mother being so flustered when you asked what the doctor said, had me giggling.

I hope the recovery goes smoothly and the appointment next week brings good news.

Rune said...

Anesthesia is trippy....I remember when I had surgery on my ankle, they put me under, then it seemed liked almost instantly I woke up again.... But in reality 4 hours had passed. It was like I traveled in the future.

The Ambiguous Blob said...

just think: special olympics!

I kid, I kid!!!

Seriously, if there was going to be something terribly wrong, you'd already know about it. They wouldn't make you wait a week to find out. And don't feel bad about using prescription pills recreationally. They WERE prescribed to you, after all.

Eileen Dover said...

Enjoy those pills. Just don't do what I do... and wait until I'm in intense pain and then be the stupid schmuck who decides she needs more.

Crying in the pharmacy for 'magic pills' is really not cute.

Wanderlusting said...

I've been under general anesthetic about SIX times. It's not fun...but the traditional popsicle afterwards was always nice.

Harleyblue said...

I had surgery not even a year ago. That was the best wake up ever. I woke up in recovery under this blanket that had a tube coming from the wall that blew hot air in the blanket. I would so love to have one at home. It was wonderful

Unknown said...

No way for you to run away when being chased by a man then.

Crippled girls have quite a lot of allure you know.

-Wombat

Anonymous said...

You mother probably freaked out because the Dr. probably said, "boy your daughter is hot!" therefore she could not think of what to tell you....

Anonymous said...

You'll have a leg up on AW! (kidding!!)

I hope your recovery goes better than your post-op experience!

[] said...

You're not just a 20-year-old cripple, you're a 20-year-old Angelina Jolie lookalike cripple.

S* said...

You're not a cripple! My coworker is 25 and just had both hips replaced and she's not a cripple.

And of course now everyone wants to see a photo of you, Ms. Angelina look alike, so that we can bask in your hotness.

Anonymous said...

Smart and hot, even as a cripple that is a great combination!

Malnurtured Snay said...

I think my mom would've gotten her feathers in a twist: "Oh, I should've had a tape recorder with me?"

The Accidental Bitch said...

caramaena - I like making people laugh :) Thanks for your good wishes!

rune - Yeah that's what everyone says. Except for the time travel part... that's just you.

the ambiguous blob - Good point! whew.

eileen dover - You cried at the pharmacy for magic pills? That's great. I definitely kept that image in my mind the past couple days. Thanks for the laugh

wanderlusting - I actually liked it, I just didn't like what they did after they put me to sleep...

harleyblue - Jealous! I was freezing.

wombat - Haha for some reason, I think non-cripples have more allure.

bluelovergirl - Hmm, not very realistic (him saying that), but thanks

rabbit - Oh, no matter what happens I have all kinds of metaphorical legs up on AW. And thanks!

monicker - Wow, that almost helps me walk better! ;)

s* - I suppose you're right; I am a temporary cripple. And you get no pictures... but feel free to bask anyway

anon - Yes well I'm not sure everyone will see it that way when I say "sex?! haha you're funny!" to all my dates.

malnurtured snay - haha your mom sucks too. That or you're witty. Though I guess it could be both!

R. Duckie said...

Every time i walk into a hospital, i think, "It looks so much cooler on Grey's Anatomy!" Hope you recover soon!

Stacey