Note: I started this post while under the influence of vicodin…and then I got sick and spent the rest of the day trying not to puke.
“Drugs are bad. Mmmmkay.” Unless they are prescription meds for pain and/or nausea. I typically get sick from vicodin, but phenergan negates the sickness. All in all, it wasn’t percocet, but I got hooked up. Read: stoned out of my mind. I took a lot of naps.
I drove to the hospital that morning expecting to pretty much be alone until after surgery. The hubby gets off work at the time I was scheduled for surgery, and that was fine. I really wasn’t at all concerned about the procedure. Wasn’t scared other than my typical insecurity-based fear of spending the morning with a bunch of strangers or nearly strangers since I had only seen the ENT once. Oh I knew my pastor was going to come by for a little while, but I knew he had a prior commitment. So I was quite pleasantly surprised when I walked in the door and there sat Ms. Ruth.
Me: “What are you here for?”
Ruth: (pointing at me) “You.”
She had already talked with the staff & knew who my nursing team was, and used to work with 2 of them plus had worked with my ENT before she retired. “You have the A-Team this morning.” I had already been given the low-down the day before during pre-op not to bring anything but myself to include not wearing wedding ring if I could get it off. So I was there with the clothes on my back, my drivers license, and just the key for the Neon; the latter 2 items only because I drove myself there. But with Ms. Ruth there, I gave her my license and key to hang on to, and didn’t have to worry about that. Not that I think I had anything to worry about from my team. They were great.
The nurses warned me about the sedative they were giving me prior to going to the OR. Things like, some people get and tell them “Do whatever you want,” and even “You may not remember anything.” They also told me I would feel really really good for the first 45 seconds. I feel cheated because I didn’t really start feeling it until they got me in the OR. I remember the trip to the OR, I remember moving from the bed to the table, I remember a woman telling me she was going to put on oxygen mask, I remember it going on, and I remember the anesthesiologist & nurses wrapping me really tight with a blanket, and then there was just than woman who gave me the oxygen waking me up. I don’t remember really anything she said to me, but I remember coughing a lot and not being able to answer a question for coughing. I apologized for taking so long my coughing and she said, “That’s fine. It’s good that you are coughing.” I remember her apologizing for something she had to do and I remember saying “It’s all gravy on this train, dawg.” That is probably the least goofy thing I have ever said post-surgery. haha
And then I got sick. Not a sudden I’m gonna puke sick, but a room is spinning motion-sickness kind of sick. They gave me crackers and I only managed one because I had the worst case of cotton-mouth ever. The ride home was terrible. Oddly, I don’t remember the off ramp exit from highway 1. I have troubles with it making me sick as a passenger when there is nothing wrong. But, we got home and I got ready to pass back out, and when I went to the bathroom I was quite sure that I was going to throw up that one cracker and the water I washed it down with. I didn’t though, and made it back to the recliner where I proceeded to pass out until the hubster returned with the ginger ale.
This is as far as I got that day.
The cracker broke my gluten free diet, and the ginger ale broke my no high fructose corn syrup diet. I proceeded to eat like crap for the next few days. And when I thought I was better, I wasn’t. I felt great on Saturday. And so, I thought Sunday morning would be a breeze. Wrong. I knew by the time I got to church, I was going to struggle, and so by the time Sunday School was over, I told Bob and/or Judy that I was probably going to sit down after the contemporary songs. But I felt a little better after the last contemporary, so I stayed up for the 3 hymns. Big mistake. I did good to walk to the car when church was over. Came home, ate, and decided to take a little nap. 4 hours later I woke up with a pounding headache and decided that I was not going to evening service. But since finishing off the last of the antibiotics Thursday morning, I’m feeling pretty good now. Except for a pulled back, but that is unrelated.
So as I was running errands this afternoon, I was thinking again about what happened in the OR. I now know the point at which I was the sedative rendered me willing to do whatever, and it was right around the time they transferred me to the operating table. At that point, honey badger no longer cared. That may or may not make sense with the rest of the post, but I’m really not going to re-read (fully) what I wrote under the influence. I’ll clarify later if anyone cares. haha