Saturday, January 30, 2010

Day 118

Today I lie about the house and recover from maaaaa proceeeeeeeduuuurrrrre. The aneathesist said not to drive, make decisions, write letters/emails or blog for a full 24 hours after the op because my mind is not actually my own right now. Roger that. Let's blog away ....

Aren't the gowns in hospital spectacular! They've got a lot more ties than they used to. I had three on each sleeve (very Grecian), one at the back and one that swept around to the side. Definitely designed for the red carpet. And I felt very important as I was wheeled in my bed down the long hospital corridors by gowned, slippered and shower-capped nurses with people walking past staring at me to determine what I as in for. It was obviously important. Not everyone gets wheeled about in a bed. Broken legs? Heart attack? Brain bleed? Cancer? Nope, just a routine proceeeeeeeduuuurrrrre. So once I had experienced the walk of fame we headed to the operating theatre where the very kind anaethesist explained he was about to put me under even though the surgeon wasn't there yet, but be rest assured my doctor would be the one performing the surgery. He would come in and speak with me but I wouldn't remember it, and I may speak to him in my preliminary drug haze, but I wouldn't remember that either. Oh no. Apparently last time I had the "don't remember anything drug" I asked my doctor to marry me (that was during yet another very glamorous routine procedure - the colonoscopy). Well, I didn't let the team down. As I woke from my drug induced sleep I asked the very kind nurse next to me if I was now engaged to my doctor. She confirmed that I was. Glad to see I don't waver too far from the original story line. So the walk of fame quickly turned to the walk of shame as I was wheeled back to my room in absolute agony. Nope. Not physical post-op agony. Mortified agony as I realised that yet again I have gotten all loving and amorous with my surgeon. Cripes. And why was I awake? The best part of this procedure was that I was supposed to be in a coma for a day. I'd only been out for a couple of hours! Ripped off ...

Anyway, I managed to lay about for a while in the hospital and doze and read and doze and eat sandwiches and doze and drink tea. I was terribly disappointed when Derek arrived to take me home. I had desperately hoped for more dozing.

It all went well though and I am back at home in the land of the Mummy. I did get to doze some more at home yesterday and I am hoping, that given I still feel quite limp and sleepy, I might get some more in today. How long can I stretch this do you think?

A few hours later:

No need to fake stretch it out. The vommiting started at about 8.00am. I don't cope real well with chemicals and foreign things in my body. So the lying about is legit.

1 comment :

I love hearing your thoughts! Keep them rolling in :)

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