Let's see, where to begin. I tried to blog Friday night, I think, while I was in the hospital and I have to say I typed about two sentences, fell asleep, hit the touchpad or something on my laptop and erased half of it, and gave up and went to sleep. We got home Saturday and I've been in something of a haze since then. I had four different friends call me yesterday evening and I just couldn't bear to talk on the phone. Ugh, I hate that side of me. So I'm gonna call each of them back in the next couple of days. I feel guilty but I was hurting and I knew I'd start crying. I also hate that side of me.
So let's talk about the hospital experience...for starters, being the procrastinator that I am, I didn't even pack anything to take with me until about the time DH wanted to get on the road. I'd wanted to buy me some nice PJs and a cute robe so I wouldn't look homeless walking in the hall, but I didn't get around to it. Besides, those hospital gowns are dead sexy!
The hotel we stayed at was very nice, my mom said it was the nicest place they'd ever stayed. They served "snacks" and drinks in the evening like a lot of places do anymore, but the snacks constituted an entire meal! Soup, salad, hot dogs, nachos, baked potatoes, hot wings, veggie platter. And then they served a full hot breakfast in the morning. So except for lunch, my parents didn't have to buy any meals. When you calculate two meals into the price of the room, I think it was an excellent deal. And they gave us $50 off each room because I was in the hospital.
We got to the hospital at 5:30 to check in. I had told DH and my parents to just meet me there so they could eat breakfast, but DH insisted on taking me to the hospital. I swear that man won't let me out of his sight! It was after 6 before they had me checked in and almost 7 before they took me back. They put me in a little room with a curtain and a gurney and a heart monitor...very familiar territory. I changed and got settled in and the nurse came back to place the IV. I pointed to my AWESOME vein on my right wrist (she didn't want to put it in the left since that's the cancerous side...which doesn't make any sense since I was having a bilateral mastectomy, but whatever). She kept looking and decided it indeed was my best vein besides my AC, so she stuck me, drew blood, and hooked up the fluids. She admonished me for being dehydrated, but I'd forgotten to drink a big glass of water at 11:59 before I had to be NPO. Oh, well...
The anesthesiologist came to see me first and asked me a few questions, you know, the routine problems with anesthesia, nausea, motion sickness, etc. I told him I do sometimes get carsick so he turned to the nurse and said, "Pull the big kit." I had no idea what that meant right then, but when the nurse came back and put a scopolamine patch behind my ear and then the CRNA came in and introduced herself and gave me three different drugs for nausea, I knew I was in good hands! DH and the parental units said their goodbyes, the nurse told me good luck and down the hall I went. I think I remember rolling into the OR but I'm not really sure. I might have dreamed that. Next thing I knew, I was back in a little room similar to the one I started in with a different nurse sitting at the end of the bed. I vaguely remember rolling down a hallway and hitting a couple of bumps but I don't know whether it was going to the OR or going to my room.
The rest of Thursday is pretty much a haze. I munched on ice chips and hit my PCA button as much as possible. DH was with me pretty much the whole time and I know my parents came in to see me too. The day shift and night shift nurses were very nice. I might have talked to someone on the phone? I was in pretty good shape as far as pain went and they gave me something to sleep and then woke me up at midnight to pull my Foley catheter. Midnight, really? I guess it's so you have those night hours to count toward peeing so they can discharge you in the morning.
And then 4 am struck. I don't know what it is with me and hospitals, but 4 am is always the time something goes wrong. In this case, the IV pump alarmed that it was almost out of fluids. It woke me up and my pain was a 63 on a scale of 1 to 10. I literally couldn't breathe I was hurting so bad. I found the call bell and called the nurse and started hammering away on the PCA button. The tech came in to do my vitals and told me she'd tell the nurse the pump was beeping and I was hurting. Then I realized I needed to pee and that was contributing to my pain. So DH and the tech helped me to the bathroom and I sat...and sat...and sat...I felt like my bladder was gonna burst. The nurse, the tech and DH kept popping in periodically to see if I'd had any luck. Nope, of course not! I finally thought to ask DH to turn on the water at the sink and leave the door open so I could hear it...and after about 10 more minutes, I finally started peeing. In the meantime I'd pushed my PCA button about 73 times and it had only made a slight dent in my pain. When I'd peed as much as I thought I could, I had DH help me out into the room and WASHED MY HANDS! Good grief I'm still the freaking hygiene queen even when I'm pretty sure I'm gonna die in the next hours. AAARRRGGGHHH!!!!
So then I had a decision to make...back to bed or to the chair. The nurse came in and gave me a couple of Vicodin, some Toradol and some Valium on top of the PCA. And I just stood there and cried. Completely pitiful. Poor DH, he didn't know what to do with himself. And I didn't know what to do with myself either, so the four of us just stood there, looking around and trying to figure out the next move. Finally I decided to kick DH out of the recliner and try to sleep there. The pain meds and sedative began to kick in and I went to sleep...for about an hour. Then the gal from lab comes in and was getting ready to wake DH up to draw his blood! I explained that I was the patient and I'd kicked him out of the recliner. DH swears she came back and drew my blood later but I don't remember it and I didn't have any needle sticks or band-aids to prove it.
I made it through the first night but there was no way in hell I was going home on Friday! I was still using my PCA quite a bit, even with around the clock Vicoden, Valium and Toradol, I wasn't very steady on my feet, and I generally felt like I'd been run over by a Mack truck. My parents came to visit me that morning before they left to go home and then my friend Kondee's Mom came to visit and bring me some flowers. Both were welcome distractions and I think as the day went on I was using less of the PCA and moving around more. Also my cell phone and my Facebook were blowing up so that definitely cheered me up as well. All in all I seemed to be headed in the right direction.
I'll see if I can't finish this snoozer of a story either later tonight or tomorrow. Mr. Vicoden and Mr. Pillow are calling my name.
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