The Long Weekend

Yesterday I had a tubal ligation.

Chris took me to the VA hospital at 8 and we were sent to the lab for a glucose and pregnancy test.  I think we waited until 9:30 or so before they took me in.  Chris waited with me and I was getting very nervous.  I had to make the conscious decision to be brave.

The nurse told Chris to come back for me at 1.  He had to run sound for a show but was expecting it to cancel because of the weather.

I was invited to don a paper gown and purple slipper socks.  A nurse came to start my IV and I was really not looking forward to that.  I kept telling myself that this would be the worst part because I’d be knocked out for the rest of it.  I told the nurse I’d been stabbed in the left elbow twice and asked her to evaluate the other side.

“I’m not going in the elbow, honey.”

Oh damn.

“But I use a local.”

Okay, well that’s something.

“Poke and a burn,” she said, and stuck a needle into my hand.  That was not awesome.  Then she asked me to take a deep breath in and slowly let it out as she put the IV needle in.

“Oh, crap,” she said.  “I’m against a valve.”

Now, I don’t know what that means medically, but the translation for me was that she was about to dig around in my hand with a needle.  If that local anesthetic was working, I was not aware of it.  I made mewing noises as she tried and tried and she felt bad.

“Okay, one more try and if it doesn’t work I’ll have to poke you again.”

Twenty seconds later she was wrapping up my left hand and swabbing my right.  Another stick and a burn but it worked this time- I could feel the IV needle, but it didn’t hurt, which was good because there was a valve over there too.  Dig around all you want, lady.

The doctor had prescribed two hours of IV absorption to make sure my blood sugar was stable, so I read and read and read.  We were going to be early because some other doctor hadn’t shown up, but he was a substitute with his own practice in town.  This guy was doing a favor and fighting the snow so when he got there we were pushed back.  The doctor came to visit me often during that time and tried to calm my nerves.  He advised me to think of something like a warm beach once the anesthesia started.  He reviewed the procedure (I really didn’t want to hear about that) and warned me about where I would hurt and why.  He said my belly would be filled with gas to help keep everything separate and though they would let it out, some would stay and be absorbed.  He said there’s something higher in the right side than the left, so my right shoulder would hurt.

To ensure they are operating on the right person and/or body part, you must confirm your name, social, birthdate, and procedure to everyone that touches you.  I was introduced to the OR nurse and she was exactly the kind of nurse you’d want.  She was nice and professionally quick.  Her hands were bare and her nails were short.  They were not dainty hands or rough.  They just looked capable.  There was one final blood sugar test, the doctor autographed his work area, and I was wheeled off.  There was a patient in the hall in front of us and his nurse needed to turn him around, so she pulled over to let us pass.

“On your left!” I called, happy to be able to make a joke somewhere in there.

Once in the operating room I had to move over to the narrow operating table.  Sensors were stuck to my chest and an oxygen mask put on my face.  I could hear something I thought sounded like an awfully fast heartbeat so I took some deep breaths and it slowed.  The nurses and doctors were bustling around so fast.  They put a strap over my thighs to keep me from falling off and my arms were stretched out on arm boards like Jesus.  I suddenly felt more vulnerable and afraid than I ever have in my life.  I kept hearing the beeps go faster and every time I would breathe deep again and try to relax.  The anesthesiologist said I would start feeling sleepy and I could feel the medicine burning up my arm.  My eyes started to flutter and I thought about both dogs at the window looking out at us as we drove away that morning.  Lights out.

Not the next minute or the next thing I knew… time had definitely passed.  I woke up retching and writhing in pain.  I heard a nurse, a different one, talking to me quietly, telling me that everything had gone well, that I was okay, that first she would give me anti-nausea medicine, she was raising the foot of the bed (I was pulling up into the fetal position) and then pain medicine was on its way.  She never stopped talking to me though I know I was very noisy.  The first bit of pain meds quieted me down considerably, but she gave me more.  She talked me through a small sip of water and took my oxygen mask.  I drifted for at least an hour and I heard the doctor tell her he’d found sites of endometriosis and had zapped those, which would increase my pain.

I told my nurse that the doctor wasn’t kidding about the shoulder pain and she said it would feel better with a heat pack.  She also suggested we move slowly because of the nausea and told me to either not wear my coat in the car or open the window.  Cold helps nausea.  She was going to start me on my Vicodin but didn’t want me to have too much of anything on my stomach for the ride home.

It took a while to get me awake and dressed.  In the meantime, Chris had shown up at 1 to be told that I had just gone into surgery.  He stayed for a while but had to get moving for the gig that had not cancelled.  He called Jody, who earned Friend of the Year award.  She drove to the VA hospital though she’d never been there before, found PATPU (Pre-Admission Testing & Processing Unit) and waited.  They came looking for Chris and told her they couldn’t give her the instructions.  Once they had my permission they went back out to give her the instructions and sent her down to Pharmacy to pick up my Vicodin.  When she got back upstairs they sent her to pull the car up front.

My wheelchair driver was super careful with bumps and my nausea.  He hung my purse on the handle so I could hold my barf bucket.  It was still snowing outside and I sucked in the cold air and swore I would not vomit in Jody’s car.  She walked me in and set me up with water and Vicodin, walked the dogs, took my boots off, tucked me in under a blanky, told Ant’s friends he wasn’t home, opened the package of flowers from Mom, Tracy, & Dad, cut the flowers and squeezed them into the vase they came with.  There are so many!  She gave me a get well card and a little gift and I was so grateful to her I cried.  It was good they gave her instructions because she got information that I didn’t, like how soda would help my throat much more than water.  Did you hear that?  I was gleeful to tell Chris that he needed to bring me soda.  I asked for diet ginger ale, of course.

He came home with the ginger ale around 6, I think.  Jody brought me home around 4.  He babied me as long as possible before he had to run back to work.  I laid low and blobbed.

I just got a follow up call from the VA.  They called to check on me and ask specific questions about my pain and any complications.  I also got some more advice on how to avoid constipation, limits on the pain pills, and when I should start trying to move around.  It’s not time yet, but I am having trouble resisting.

Today I have been blobbing too, still in no shape to do much.  Yesterday I could only stare at the TV but today I have been playing on the computer too.  My belly hurts.  I knew I would get a puncture wound, but I did not realize they were going through my belly button too.  At least, I think that’s what they did.  There’s a gauze lump taped over it and I can see through the clear tape to the puncture wound that’s right below it.  Both shoulders hurt depending on which way I lean and my throat hurts from the breathing tube- another part I didn’t realize beforehand.  I’m sure I look awesome- I have a heating pad draped over my shoulder, a bag of defrosting baby lima beans tucked into my giant loose comfy sweatpants, and I’m sprinkled with Saltine cracker crumbs.  I can’t shower until tomorrow afternoon.  My barf bucket is parked next to me holding many things so I won’t have to reach for them: my phone, my Vicodin, my kit and Saltines.  The Wiimote’s batteries are dying so I’m watching HGTV and imaginary farming.  It is high time for a Vicodin nap.

I realize that I covered the how and not the why, but I’m sure you all understand they why.  Maybe I’ll talk about that later.