*Dr. C did a great job keeping people updated on my surgery and hospital stay, but now that I'm home, he has turned the blogging back over to me. This is the first in a short series of flashback posts about my post-op life until I catch up on where I am now in recovery. Some of it is funny, some of it is weird and some of it was downright unpleasant, so read ahead at your own risk.
Sleep only blessed me for about 20 minutes on Monday night. Dr. C finally crashed at about 3AM, while I was posting about my trip down the rabbit hole. I was anxious and unsure and sleep was a burden and source of anxiety instead of respite.
When the alarm went off at 4:40AM, I was ready.
Dr. C and I headed off to the hospital on a bundle of nerves, sheer adrenaline propelling us forward to the check-in desk.
They handed Dr. C a pager like you get at a restaurant, told him that if there were any updates about me, it would vibrate and buzz and that he should keep it near him at all times.
I think he would have super glued it to his hand if they would have let him.
We headed back to the surgery prep area, the anesthesiologist came in and told me what they would do to me, made me make funny facial expressions to check my current brain functioning. Who knew that if you can puff out your cheeks, the docs think you are fine mentally before brain surgery? Shouldn't they have been asking me the quadratic equation or something??
Then came Dr. Brains, checking on what I wanted him to do with my hair--shave it all or just half?
Off with it all.
Then came a nurse anesthetist, with a pretty but pointy face and a brackish voice. Answering more questions, explaining what would happen. Making sure I could stick out my tongue.
And then the nurse orderly came, a pleasant young man that took my glasses, and wheeled me into the hallway where I got to say goodbye to my parents and my sweet Dr. C.
I love you.
I love you all.
And then into the Operating Room. It was a much larger room than I had expected, more like a elementary school classroom than the tiny little rooms that they show on TV. Everything was white, pale blue, or stainless steel colored. There were introductions all around, a nurses aide, a surgeons aide, an orderly, a anesthesiologist, and more. They moved me from the wheelie bed to the small operation table, just wide enough for my body to fit. They strapped Velcro around my legs to "remind me the table is small".
Someone asked me where I was from.
It's a beautiful city.......
And with that, I was out.
"Carrie?!? CARRIE??!?? CARRIE!!!!?!?!"
The nurse anesthetist with the brackish voice was calling my name.
"CARRIE!! What year is it??"
Stop yelling at me.
I made it!!!!
"Carrie. Wiggle your fingers and toes."
Can I do that?
I stretched my brain, concentrating on the movement--being paralyzed on my left side was one of THE. BIG. RISKS.
Now was the moment of truth.
*wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle*
"She's moving them!!"
I can move!!
I'm awake and I can move.
God is good.
*More to come.