I’m not going to go into great detail so if you’re squeamish, don’t worry about gory stuff.
This time the surgery was done in the main hospital’s day surgery area and it was a very different experience from the first one done in The Pavilion. Parking was more difficult, to begin with, and my wheelchair had to be pushed uphill to get where we needed to go, and there were many more miles of hallways to be traversed.
As in any hospital, the energies were a bit difficult to cope with, feeling jangly and jarring.
We got there early and were shortly put into a bay with several other curtained-off areas. This compared to being put into a private room at The Pavilion. There were the expected sounds and clatters and voices. Noise can be off-putting. While everyone was pleasant and professional, there was a feeling of distraction, as if they were working on me but already thinking of the next person they had to attend to.
It was quite cool in the room, which was comfortable for me, but which still made my veins constrict, so they had some trouble getting an IV started. We managed. Eventually. After the nurse blew a vein “as big as Dallas,” as she put it.
There was discussion with the anesthetist about my earlier high blood pressure issues so they were prepared for that. I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out and proved my neck was flexible. However, I didn’t emphasize that I have fibromyalgia and the anesthetist may not have got that message. I think that’s where the problem began.
There were a few other issues of a more private nature that I won’t go into but that exasperated me a bit. But we handled that, too.
And then I was off to the OR, scooched onto the operating table, and soon was sound asleep.
I woke up after recovery, a little woozy, but doing well and soon was on my way home with Tony driving. Not an easy condition for a control freak like me but hey, the anesthesia wasn’t completely worn off yet. I did stay awake, though.
Once home, I slept most of the rest of the afternoon away and woke up about an hour before bed time, still not feeling badly at all. I went to bed.
And the next morning it all ended. I could barely get out of bed.
I had a really sore throat and an abraded lip that was likely due to the anesthesia tube in my throat during surgery, and my stomach and chest muscles felt like I’d been doing ab crunches while I was anesthetized. I haven’t felt that much muscle pain in a long time, even with fibromyalgia.
Also, I didn’t realize how much I used my trunk muscles just to walk with a cane.
Of course, I’d not taken my supplements or anything for a few days, so if I want to be charitable, I’ll say that’s why. But I don’t think so. I think the anesthesia folks were a little rough with me, hyperextending my neck and such things. Though I can’t explain the sore trunk muscles. It really hurt to cough or sneeze.
So I started my supplements up again (if I’d ever wondered if they helped, and at times I had, I believed they did now) and upped the magnesium and MSM especially.
It’s now Thursday after a Monday surgery and I’m still sore but much better. By the time I go for my post-op checkup on Tuesday I’ll be as good as new – more or less.
But I’m not happy with the way this surgery transpired. I felt like I was a unit on an assembly line and while I was treated adequately, even in a friendly fashion, I didn’t feel treated like a person. I’ve had major abdominal surgeries before, in 1971 and 1991, so I have a baseline from which to make a judgment.
The operation itself has been basically painless. It’s the stuff that goes around the surgery that makes me dissatisfied. Maybe if the first surgery, even with the pain of trying to get a good blood pressure, hadn’t been so relatively good I’d not have a gripe. But now I feel I do. I’m not a happy camper.
But that should be the end of any surgeries. Next I’ll be having radiation therapy to complain about. That should be an experience.