Friday was a unique day. Woke up at 5 AM and was at the surgery reception desk at the University Med Center signing in at 6 AM for out patient septoplasmy, which is surgery on the septum. Yawn. I know, boarrrr-ring (Does anyone remember Jo Anne Worley on Laugh-In, or is my age showing?) Check-in paperwork, wrist bands, possession stuffed into a plastic bag and given to my husband, open air “gowns,” intravenous catheter in hand, I was wheeled into surgery exactly at 7:30AM where the last thing I remember is being asked to scoot over on to the narrow operating table. I remember starting to brace myself with my hands and elbows so I could lift and scoot…. and then nothing until I regained consciousness in the recovery area.
I’m still amazed by how different my perception of surgery is each time when I prepare to go under the knife. This time I was thinking things like how much more trust I have in the facility after seeing how amazing UMC was as they treated the January 8th mass shooting victims. The surgeon came in pre-op, glanced at my blood pressure, looked up a bit surprised, and said that I was the most relaxed person (this was pre-drugs) out of everyone in the pre-op area. It is amazing how calming deep breathing a la yoga can be, that and far greater levels of trust. The only thought I had that was negative was the thought that drug with which they put me under was probably the same thing that killed Michael Jackson.
Anyway, I’m surprised at how well I’m doing. I basically just have plastic tubes in each nostril’s airway to keep the airway open (sort of open, everything is sort of swollen now) and there isn’t a bunch of cotton shoved up each nostril. I’m not bruised that I can see. I was not nauseous after surgery and was home by 10:30 AM.
I’m so glad the recovery is going to be far less terrible than I had thought it would be. Cuddling with my cats and drinking smoothies is not so bad. My husband and daughter are taking great care of me and I love having my great aunt’s antique brass school bell with which to summon them. And there was great junk TV on to watch and chuckle over on the History Channel. Some of the stuff that is said about Nostradamus and the Winter Solstice of 2012 is a hoot even without the perspective provided by oxycodone.
I cannot wait until I can breathe again without obstruction!