There are days that you know the universe took one look at you and just started laughing. Hysterically. You’ve got it all figured out honey? Not quiet. Let me reach down and pull the rug out from underneath you.
I had a scheduled surgery for this past Friday. A surgery that has been planned for a couple of weeks. A surgery to try to figure out just what in the hell is wrong with this crazy body of mine.
We made all the arrangements. The boys would go to nana and papa’s house to spend the night before surgery. Nana and papa would take them to camp the next day like normal. My honey would escort me to the hospital and home again. It was all wrapped up with a pretty bow.
Until my honey woke up the morning of surgery vomiting. My ride home from the hospital looked like she needed to be there worse than I did. She swore she’d be fine. So I drove us there while she held a grocery bag at her lap.
They took me back for all the lovely pre-op stuff. It was just after 6am and I was giddy from lack of sleep. I was joking with the nurses. Until my IV backed up and I almost passed out. I started seeing black spots and voices became mumbled. I somehow managed to get the nurses attention before blacking out completely. She maneuvered a few things and suddenly the world returned to me. I could think again and answer questions again. The joking was gone for a moment though.
They brought my honey back to me before surgery. She looked awful. She made a break for the bathroom shortly after arriving at my bedside. My doctor came over to see me and was more worried in that moment about her than about me. She ordered her to sleep while I was in surgery and said that she’d wake her as soon as I was out.
They wheeled me away to the OR shortly after that. The nurses were cracking jokes to relax me the whole ride up. I recall the anesthesiologist saying he was going to give me some meds in my IV to make me relax and that I needed to breathe through the oxygen mask. The next thing I know I’m waking up to a completely different nurse. It was over.
We left the hospital that day – both of us feeling like we’d been pummeled by a fully loaded semi-truck. The boys were at camp so we both slept off our icky feelings. I made friends with ibuprofen and vicodin and looked forward to feeling human again.
I’m not there yet but getting closer everyday. I know nothing of the results of the surgery but should know sometime later this week. My hope is that it will show something, anything. All tests to this point have been normal. I’m feeling anything but normal. Thankfully my doctor knows me and believes me. She’s not stopping until she figures this out. I just hope it doesn’t take too long…