How Did I Get Here, And Where Is The Next Turn?

Greetings and salutations to all who deem this worthy of your time...

Brought up Jan 8, 2013

I Was Lied to by TV

You know, they make hospital stays seem like a big vacation on television, glamorous with hair perfect, makeup just so, or all pale and tragic, kind nurses at the push of a button, and doctors who have all the time in the world to chat and explain the sitch. It's all a pack of lies... I make Morticia look like Miss America.

I arrived at the hospital on time, with the husband and daughter along. The boy had to work, but visited on Thursday. I filled out a few papers, and then sat in this large waiting area with others waiting for 'Same Day Surgery.' The girl disappeared for a while, checking out the place as she went to get my stuff from the car.

Soon, my name was called. I was hustled into a small room like the ones at the local ER, told to strip to bare skin in every form, all jewelry, clothes, etc. and put on the charming gown with the ties and no back. That design needs to be burned, the designer shot. Anyway, they had actually found a gown that could wrap around me almost twice. That lifted my spirits a bit. At least most of my butt was not waving in the wind, and I could actually pull the sides together to close the gap if i tried. Like I said, it cheered me a bit.

I settled back on the gurney, prepared to wait a while. I was told to be prepared for 1 p m surgery. It was around 11.

Suddenly, a nurse came in and said, 'She's been moved up.' They had taken blood, and all the other junk. Now, they started an IV, which took 2 tries, because the vein they chose in the back of my right hand 'blew.' They put it in my left, which meant days of the damned thing always in the way when I went to do something. The guy in charge of 'sleepy time' came in after his little assistant had me all set. I barely remember his face, he was in and out so quickly. Then my doctor strolled in, asked if I was ready to get this thing done, and I said, let's do it. He was cheerful, and it made me grin back at him. My mom, sis, kid and husband all came in, hugs and kisses around, and they all vanished as I was whisked off down this hall, tucking my hair into this paper thing. In this little room, the little girl from the sleepin' guy put a mask over my face, saying it was just to get my oxygen going, and then shot something into the IV...

The next thing I remember is very vague. I remember slightly opening my eyes, and mumbling something, hearing chuckles. Then I remember slowly waking to some unfamiliar faces mixed with my family. It is a jumble. I don't recall when everyone left, but the kid. I sort of recall bits and pieces of TV, eating a few bites of spaghetti. I recall spending most of the night flipping channels on the remote, and pushing the button on the morphine pump when ever the pain surfaced.

Thursday was pretty much the same. Mostly vague images. Texts on my phone, a few phone calls, and a visit from the hospital chaplain. The day time nurses dragged their butts and it once took 4 calls over an hour and a half, for them to change my empty IV bag, and shut off the damned beeper. Some time in there, a little guy with an odd accent brought in a bright, cheery arrangement of yellow and white daisies in a smiley face mug. The Punk... Gotta love the guy for knowing just what to send, since buttercups, daffodils to the nonSouthern, are out of season. Thursday night was more of the same. I slept maybe 2 or 3 hours at a time, flipped channels, pushed the morphine. I really liked that stuff. At least Brandy, my night nurse, was sweet, and there at the push of the button.

Friday morning, they took away my new toy, and gave me hydrocodone pills. THTHTHTHT! They let me up with a walker Thursday, but I didn't stray from my room until Friday... then it was hard to stay in there. I hurt like hell, constantly wrestling with the pressure bandage, and shuffling around like an old lady with that damned walker. I did two laps of the halls during the day with the walker, then ditched the thing on the third lap as we waited for my paper work to spring me. I was set free around 6 p m.

Did I mention that I have yet to set eyes on my doctor since just before my surgery? I saw one of his associates from the clinic, not him. She is the one who discharged me, still in a bit of a drug fog, with few answers, or instructions other than what is in the charming file they gave me.

I have 7 bottles, including my vitamins, of crap to take. One of them is even to help me crap... and it doesn't work very well.

Most of the pain I have is from gas... Apparently, they fill you up for some reason during the surgery.

I learned that they had to move my kidneys about to get to the lymph nodes, and that's part of the pain as well. It is also why I peed blood for two days.

I am still having to wear the bandage over the staples. It's like wrestling a sugar rushed two year old, rolling up and sliding down with my every move. Moving has gotten easier, but I'm still stiff legged, my back aching. Yesterday, I got the girl to go out for a walk with me. We went half a block... Gravity is not kind to an incision, I learned.

I am cutting back on the pain meds on my own. It freaks me out to get addicted, and I hate trying to think through mud. It's hard enough having my mouth water at the smell of a cigarette. (It's been a week since I had one, though I stole one yesterday from the boy... and nearly puked. I guess there will be no smoking for a while... maybe forever. Quit the happy dance, Punk.)

So, that is what has been going on during my absence from here. I was expecting to lounge around being waited on like a princess, at least. Not happening. Things are getting done with a lot of nagging. The husband went back on the road, but was home Saturday, and just left out again. I am now at the mercy of the brats, as I am not allowed to drive until the narcotics stop. My hair is sticking up in every direction, I am actually wearing what I wore yesterday, and slept in, and I really don't give a damn. It hurts to even attempt changing my socks...

So, TV lies... There ain't nothing glamorous or relaxing about this crap. I snarl more than smile, and the 'good drugs' I was promised just make me muddle headed, which I can not stand. All in all, this sucks...

One good note... The doctor did tell my family that they think they got all the cancer. Unless there is a surprise with the lymph nodes, no radiation, or chemo. I can deal with all this other BS, after hearing that...

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Cuz » 5 years ago

Glad to see you are getting bac to your old self! Think about this if hospitals were glamerous then all women would want to stay there and get waited on hand and foot. They wont let you sleep thinking if you get tired enought you will want to go home to get some sleep. LOL. I am glad everything went well and will continue to beleive that you are 100% done with this mess.