Surgery, Shots, and Snot

I've had several requests for a surgery blog, so here it is. It may be a long one… ; )

Last Wednesday my parents and I headed for Charlottesville, Virginia, after dropping Torie off at school. It's a four hour drive, and I had an appointment at 12:30. We met with the neurosurgeon who performed my surgery, as well as a few other doctors. Most of what was said about the surgery and recovery upset me very much, and the only pleasant part of Wednesday was lunch at Chipotle, where the three of us each ate a very spicy and delicious burrito. 

We arrived at the hospital at 10:30 the next morning. I was given a buzzer, just like the kind they give you at busy restaurants. After a while they buzzed me, as if to say, "An operating table is now available!" 

I changed into a hospital gown, socks, and a cap, and was given an IV. As they wheeled me into the OR, I was given "happy juice" through the IV, which probably explains why I don't remember much of what happened afterward. I remember moving from the hospital bed onto the table, but it seemed as though the moment I laid my head down, a nurse was nudging me, saying, "You're in recovery." 

"Recovery" was a room of beds separated by curtains. I had an IV in each arm, and was hooked up to a heart monitor. (One of the first things I was aware of was a nurse ripping a heart monitor sticker off my skin--I'm not sure what I said to her, but she told me I could remove the rest of them myself.) My nose was sore, but the worst part of waking up was not waking up. I was trying to listen to the people who were talking to me, to be aware of what was happening, but I was so sleepy. I even tried to watch TV in the recovery room to wake myself up, but I kept falling asleep. Drugged sleepiness cannot be shaken, no matter how many times you blink your eyes. 

Robert and Christy very kindly came all the way from Lynchburg to visit me. Unfortunately I don’t remember much of their visit. I slept through most of it.

Though I didn’t have much pain, the first night was still the worst. I did have a very sore throat from the breathing tube during surgery. I could only whisper for the first couple days, and I’m only just now getting my voice back. I threw up one time, and every time I got up my nose would bleed. This got old. When I had to use the bathroom, the nurse would put a wad of gauze up to my nose and tape it to my cheeks. It was like breathing through a pillow. Possible, but not very comfortable.  I also had to wear sleeves on my legs the entire first night. They puffed up, like a blood pressure cuff, and then relaxed, over and over and over again. They felt something like the leg part of the Sniders’ massage chair…but they also made me feel as though my legs were continually falling asleep.

And oh, I must tell you about the…HEPARIN SHOTS.

The first night my nurse was an Indian woman named Sheeba. Before I went to sleep, she told me she’d be coming in around 6 am to give me a Heparin shot.

For those of you that are unaware…I HATE needles. I hate the feel of needles, the sight of needles, even the mention of needles. I hate the word “sharps” because it indicates a pile of needles. I hate bees because they are flying needles that attack you without any medical reasoning.

So, naturally, I spent most of the night watching the clock and hoping 6 am never came.  But then, when the grisly hands marked 6:00, forming a terrible straight line like the handle of the Grim Reaper’s sickle…Death did not come to my door. Even at 6:15, when I fancied that the hands now resembled the shape of the gallows, Death did not come. It was not until 6:30 that my door creaked open and a ghastly shadow was cast upon the wall…but it was not Death, only Sheeba in her pink scrubs. The shot was small, but it went in my belly and stung for several minutes after Sheeba left the room.

I had to get three of those shots. Heparin is a blood thinner, and I had to have them so I wouldn’t get blood clots.  I’m glad to not have clots, but waiting for those shots made me miserable. They were the number one WORST part about my hospital stay. I still have a gigantic bruise on my stomach from the last one.

The second worst part of my stay was the IV that was stuck directly over my right wrist bone. It hurt constantly; my hand swelled up and I couldn’t use it at all. I had to keep my wrist completely straight. And guess what? It’s still a little bit sore.

But, with the needles over with, I’m doing remarkably well. The only trouble now is a little bit of soreness in my nose, sometimes a slight headache, and of course the medicines, sprays, and restrictions I must follow. No sneezing, no coughing, no blowing my nose, no bending over. I can’t pick up anything over ten pounds (ex, milk jug.)

But you must know about the NEILMED SINUS RINSE.

It’s a bottle that I fill with filtered water and a special mixture that comes in a packet. Twice a day I have to put this bottle up to one nostril and squeeze it until the water comes out the other side of my nose. Then I do it on the other side.

This is a truly unique experience. It could be an extreme sport. Just as bungee jumping is falling without the splat, the NeilMed Sinus Rinse is drowning without the death. It really is magical.

What’s even more remarkable is the five pounds of gunk that comes out of your nose when you use it.

Y’all just don’t know what you’re missing.

Anyway, that’s all I have to say for right now. Sorry it was so long; there was just too much to tell!

P.S. A BIG thank-you to everyone who prayed for me, wrote on my FB wall, sent me cards, gave me gifts and/or decorated my kitchen…Thanks!