"After the Surgery"
I slowly opened my eyes to discover that I was laying in recovery. There was a lot of noise and chatter going on around me. I had a bit of difficulty focusing in on the surrounds. I could hear the nurse talking to me, but I was not sure what she was saying. The familiar sounds of the beeps were behind me. The surgeon came over to my bedside and started asking me questions. I am not sure what they were, but my response must have been funny, because he seemed to get a giggle out of what I was saying.
As I slowly regained consciousness, I remember asking for my Blackberry and iPhone. The nurse quickly denied that request. I guess it's just my first nature, as soon as I wake up; I grab my phones to check e-mail’s and phone messages.
I notice, as I was coming too that I was having difficulty with my left arm. I really couldn't feel my arm. I asked the nurse if that was common and she quickly darted off to get the doctor. They ran a few motor skills tests, which I failed miserably. The doctor asked me to close my eyes and he kept asking me, do you feel this, how about now, and my answer was still no. When I opened my eyes, he had been sticking me with a needle. I didn't feel a thing. I think right about then is when the panic set in, because the heart monitor started to go crazy and my pulse rate almost doubled.
I was so thirsty, but they would not give me anything to drink. My mouth was dry. I was quickly whisked off to the MRI machine for them to take pictures of my shoulder and arm where the surgery took place to see if there may have been an accidental cut. STOP! Did the doctor just say accidental cut? What is an accidental cut?
The nurses kept asking me to relax because the heart monitor and the little machine that measures your pulse rate was going crazy and beeping. I looked at the nurse and said, my bread and butter comes from having two working arms, and you want me to relax? Next thing I knew they pushed some medication in my IV and well, let's just say, relaxed is what I became...
They completed an MRI and then moved me back to the recovery room. This is where the bad news came. My out patient surgery had just become an overnight stay. Now if I was at the Four Seasons, I may not have complained as much, but have you been to a hospital lately? YIKES! And I am still not sure why they like your butt to hang out for the entire world to see... but...
After some more motor skills tests, I was moved into a private room on the third floor of the hospital. My mother greeted me there as I arrived. Funny how your mother knows you, she gave me a run down of all missed calls, all incoming emails, and anything she thought I might need to address immediately... She gave me my Blackberry and iPhone immediately. Thank god for understanding mothers.
I got settled into the bed and was told that once the MRI films were read, they would determine whether or not I should go back under the knife. "Back under the knife" - Really, shouldn't doctors use some better terms then under the knife... that sound like the title of a Horror movie.
I was laying in my very comfortable hospital bed, that's a joke, and this young kid walks into my room and is staring at my legs which were covered. He turned and looked at me and said, "Are you a Puffer Fish?" Now mind you, I am still a little on the groggy side of things and the question seemed a bit odd. After thinking for a brief moment, I replied, "No", "Why would you ask me that?". He put his little arms on his hips and said, "Well your legs are going up and down like a puffer fish."
I began to laugh hysterically. What I failed to realize was, they had on these wonderful devises on my legs that circulate the blood flow during and directly after surgery. So when I looked down at my legs, the blanket was increasing, and then decreasing. After regaining my composure, I pulled the blanket off my legs and showed him what was making the blanket swell up and down. Such a cute kid.
This is the wonderful leg massager's that they put on my legs to keep the blood flowing. The kid made my day by cracking a joke...
So now I had to lay and wait for the results of the MRI. I was not allowed to eat or drink because if they had to take me back to the operating room, then I would not be allowed to have had anything to eat or drink. I'm not sure if they realized that they told me the night before no food or drink, so by this time, we were 12 hours into the no drink and food rule. I was getting hungry.... and dying for a drink.
I begged the nurse for some water just to swish around in my mouth so that I could get the dryness out of my mouth. After all, they did have a tube down my throat during surgery and my throat did hurt from when they pulled it back out.
The nurse finally agreed to give me some ice chips. Now, I was thinking a nice 6oz glass of ice chips that I could slowly put into my mouth to gain some moisture. You would have thought that as well, right? Well that's not what happened, she brought me three, yes I said three little ice chips that melted the minute they hit my tongue. She was so generous; I hope she's just as kind to her husband, if she has one.
That is the end of part II, my arm is begining to hurt from typing so I am going to save the rest of the story for later today or tomorrow.
Thanks for the support! I hope you are enjoying reading my journey and it has made your day a little bit brighter.
Next post will be the continuations of the story, "Cancer Reality Sucks - Hospital Stay"
You can follow me on twitter @danelson239 or @CancerReality,
on Facebook at www.facebook.com/buscando239 and on
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xoxo Douglas
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