I had surgery about 24 hours ago, and I have made a few notes to self after the fact that I will now record here for posterity.
1. Whoever formulated Midazolam deserves a medal. A shot of that in my right arm and about 45 seconds later my brain was floating in the most pleasant way and my pre-surgery anxieties were distant memories. It's apparently what they offer to death row inmates before execution. I think I understand why.
2. Don't bother trying to have a long, meaningful conversation with an anesthesiologist even though they may bait you to talk. As soon as they tire of your drivel, they will turn the IV drip on and leave the room, never to be seen again, before you know what hit you. That's just not the stuff of lasting relationships.
3. There are worse things than being attended in the restroom by nursing staff when you really have to answer nature's call and are still woozy from the anesthesiologist's revenge for your lack of scintillating conversation.
4. Investigate the possibility of a less generic last name. It's really disappointing when you are waiting anxiously for your name to be called and hear it repeatedly announced followed by, "Sorry, not you, I need the other ____" in a cruel, cruel repeated game.
5. Hospital waiting room furniture may look like the comfy furniture in a swanky college library, but it's really just an illusion. The couches are just not conducive to napping and you will probably be sorely disappointed if you try. *sigh*
6. Daniel already knows that he can have my books and CDs if I die on the OR table. No need to remind him.
7. Hospital staff really enjoy asking you the same question over and over again. They get testy if you don't just smile and reply cheerfully that you are still the same person you were when the last person came in the room and that you are still there for the same operation.
8. When signing for the 18th time that you realize your routine, minor procedure may result in maiming or death (your own death, not that of the doctor), it's best to just smile, scribble and try not to think about it. (Yet another reason to be really nice to all of those hospital staff.)
9. They throw away those nifty grip-bottom socks if you don't take them home with you. Might as well keep them on hand for those hospital-nostalgia moments.
10. The ads for free cookies on the hospital walls are a sham. They aren't free -- they require the donation of your life's blood. That said, sometimes a cookie is worth the sacrifice. What I wouldn't have given for a cookie after my rather long fast. All I got was saltines as a thank you for my rather undignified experience.
11. Hospital gowns are just as breezy and fashionable as ever. They won't, however, let you take them home. At least I got to keep the socks...
12. Clunky wire grocery carts are not done serving humanity when homeless people tire of them. They go to hospitals and masquerade as wheelchairs. (No, really, click on the link. This is the model of chair that ferried me to the curb)
13. Very pale light yellow skin is actually quite becoming and matches your eyes. Or at least you should keep telling yourself that when you look in the mirror. It won't do to dwell on the skin tone you used to know.
These are just a few of my discoveries yesterday. It was a rather full day of learning.... when I wasn't asleep.
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10 comments:
Welcome to the club. :-) :-) Take all of these comments tongue- in-cheek.
1. I went straight from the injection to waking up in the recovery room. For broken bones, they must give a stronger version, or apply the gas immediately.
2. Given the amount of lawsuits, they ask you to repeat the same drivel in order to cover their legal (netherlands), and/or test the effectiveness of sedation. The last procedure I had before the accident, I had to write "YES" in permanent marker on the affected limb, so someone wouldn't mess up and prep the other side. At least this is not a problem with the abdomen.
3. Those fuzzy socks cost $7.50 at a medical supply oriented pharmacy. AND THEY THROW THEM AWAY?? I have 4 pair. I'd have more, but they kept getting stolen in the nursing home.
4. If there are enough to spare, put on one hospital gown of great dignity opening rearward, then another over it opening frontward. Bob took away all my clothes because he thought I wouldn't need them.....
5. About wheelchairs: I had a pillow in my chair and it still felt like someone was spiking me in the (netherlands, left side).
Congratulations on surviving American medicine with your sense of humor intact.
P. S. Chris Rock Principle: I can say "netherlands" because I 'are' Dutch...from my father's side.
I just went back and clicked on wheelchair in your blog. What in bananas are those? Chairs by the Marquis de Sade? A hip fracture patient would think the seat was a bed of nails. I take back my comment.
Susan,
That's exactly the model of wheelchair they used to wheel me to the curb. They did have some rather thin vinyl pads on the seat and back (sort of, I had to re-attach the seat back cushion before sitting down), but I don't think I can imagine a less comfortable design. The foot rests were a single u-shaped coil of metal.
Perhaps the design is as much a matter of theft deterrence as it is a matter of storage efficiency, as the photo implies.
My surgery notes to self:
1. If at all possible, try to avoid recovering in the same room as a 50 year old tatooed biker recovering from nose surgery and wailing like a baby.
2. If all attempts to recover away from aforementioned man whose cries have now elevated to the shrieks of panic only befitting a person in agony on his deathbed, request immediate readministration of anesthesia.
3. If hospital policy cruelly denies requests for additional gas, quickly get to the nearest restroom to enjoy a few moments of peaceful recovery.
4. If all previous steps have failed, thank God that your meds and/or discomfort are mild enough that you still realize that you are not the only patient in the room (let alone the hospital).
P.S. I am glad it all went well!
I love you. Thanks for your call.
To Jon, Erin, and Talia:
When I miscarried 22 years ago, I was left in the common area of the Mission Hospital ER with a man who had been in either a collision or a fight. He had numerous facial cuts.
However, he was in sufficient control of himself to stand upright and carry on an intelligent conversation. He felt that I was in a worse situation than he. The Lord bless him, wherever he may be now.
It sounds like you had a realistic hospital experience. And this is "modern" medicine.
Erin,
So sorry to hear about your biker friend. The worst I had to put up with in that department was listening to the saw-mill like snoring of the man in the next "room" until they brought him to and started discussing his blood sugar.
Ash,
You are welcome... I imagine I will be my more talkative self again soon. Thanks for your patience with me. :)
Mom,
Yes... "modern" and expensive. That's the last time I spend $200 on socks and saltines. The meds made up for some of the cost. ;)
My hospital stay wasn't for recovery, but try getting some sleep after eating nothing for several days, being really thirsty but on an "NPO", in a bed next to someone with pneumonia who wimpered with every breath, kept trying to talk to her boyfriend who was sleeping in a chair, and coughing up...I can only imagine what...then the nurses came for vitals as is their wont...
She got sent to ICU and I spent the next night alone with bad heartburn from finally eating after so many days and the nurses who took vitals but couldn't give antacid because it wasn't on my list of meds.
They never gave me any socks!
You know, Ang, if you really want my socks, you can have them. Just come on down to visit. :D
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