Mood: Excited 😄
Soon after my anesthesiologist left me I was greeted by two nurses who were there to take me to the OR. One of them warned me that the OR was going to be cold and she said that she wanted to make sure to let me know because a lot of people are shocked by the temperature. I told her that I was expecting it since this was my 4th surgery in a little over a year. When we got into the OR I immediately saw more signs of the virus affecting the process of surgery. In my past 3 surgeries there were usually around 7 people in the room…my surgeon and the med student shadowing him, the anesthesiologist and sometimes a student shadowing them plus an assistant, and generally two nurses. This time I only saw 4 people before I went to sleep…my surgeon, the anesthesiologist and his assistant, and one nurse. The nurses were chatting with me about things I don’t remember now…🤣 and the next thing I know, I was getting oxygen and then I woke up in the recovery area.
When I woke up I was not doing well. I had a terrible sore throat, I was moaning in pain and I was crying. My recovery nurse was right by my side, but I was very much out of it and I told her that my pain was coming from the area under my breasts, that it was “stinging.” She checked my blood sugar and gave me some more meds for the pain. I kept trying to go to sleep and as soon as that would happen an alarm would go off. The nurse kept telling me to take deep breaths as my oxygen level kept dropping. She asked me what I wanted to drink and eat and she gave me several options for both. It felt amazing to drink some water but trying to eat the crackers was torture, my mouth was so dry that I could barely chew them. She left me for a moment and when she came back she said, “I asked your surgeon what he did to you, because when you woke up you were crying, and he said that he had to put one of the stitches deep into your tissue.” She and I were giggling when she told me about it because it was in a lighthearted way. I didn’t really say anything but I know that he did whatever he needed to do. I trust him with my life without question. Soon after that, I did see my anesthesiologist walk by a few times but he didn’t personally come in to check on me. At first I was surprised to see him but I wasn’t very conscious of the time, so when I didn’t see him again I realized that he was in the last surgery of the day. Another nurse came by a bit later to update the recovery nurse that my surgeon was half way through the last surgery, so I didn’t see my surgeon before I left to go home, but that was OK as I knew I could call or text him any time if I needed to and that I would see him on the following Monday.
Once I was stable I heard my nurse call my husband and tell him that he could come over and see me in recovery. We live close by so it didn’t take him long to get there and even though I was still feeling bad, it was good to have him there with me. I don’t know how long I was in the recovery area but I do remember looking at the clock and noticing that it was 4:30pm at one point. Eventually I was able to get up, go to the restroom and get dressed. I was still feeling a bit queasy and I was still somewhat out of it when my nurse wheeled me downstairs to meet my husband at the front of the building. On the drive home every bump in the road made my stomach upset but we needed to go get my prescriptions filled as I needed to take a pain pill later that night and start my antibiotics the next morning. By the time we got home I was feeling worse and out of nowhere my mouth started to water. I ran to the kitchen sink and got sick, luckily it wasn’t much as I had only consumed a glass of water and two crackers at the surgery center. I went and laid down and a few hours later my husband was starving and wanted dinner. I wasn’t hungry at all but I needed to eat so we had a small dinner and I fell asleep as soon as I laid down on the couch. For the next two days I slept almost constantly, just getting up enough to eat a little something and take my medicine.