Of course I would have surgery yesterday.. on Friday the 13th. I told my doctor that I didn't want any sedation and for him to just numb the surgical site and do what he has to do. Why would I want anesthesia on a day like yesterday? With the way things go in my life, why would I want to push my luck? Well, turns out they thought it would be best to give me some propofol... yes, Michael Jackson juice. As they wheeled me into the operating room, I remember sitting up, clutching the side rails of the stretcher, and saying, "You're going to give me Jackson juice on Friday the 13th.. are you nuts?!"
I was also afraid they weren't going to realize how little I am. Thanks to last weekend's insanely hectic work events and lack of time to put food in my belly.. I have lost weight.
Which is one pound less than what I weighed last week for my pre-op testing.
Which is less than the 92-94 pounds I'm usually able to maintain.
I remember being strapped to the OR table and the anesthesiologist leaning over me and telling me that she just started the meds. Before I knew it my right hand was on FIRE! It hurt so bad. So, of course I had to wiggle my hand out from under all the blankets they had on me so I could look at my IV and make sure it didn't infiltrate. I remember talking and talking.... and talking some more to all the OR staff... not exactly sure what the heck I was saying though. I remember constantly looking up and over my right shoulder so that I could see and monitor my own vital signs... just incase they gave me too much propofol? Either way, I made it out alive and well. I did just fine all day long and most of the night.. until my husband kicked me in his sleep. He kicked me right square in the surgical site. I know he didn't mean to and I know it was an accident.. but that doesn't make it hurt any less. I'm still determined to make it to work on Monday. I'll be fine.
No comments:
Post a Comment