yesterday...

thanks to everyone for all their well wishes and for all the advice on what to expect, which helped greatly. i'm so sorry to have such a deep bench of people who could advise me, but so grateful, too.

*disclaimer: if you're offended by excessive and gratuitous use of the f-word, please skip the next paragraph.*

when we got out of the car at the hospital, the parking valet said to me, "smile! it could be worse!" i instinctively gave him a polite smile, which i regret. he said, "see there?" i ignored him. what i should have said was, "what the fuck are you talking about, you fucking moron? you clearly have no fucking idea what you're fucking talking about, so you should shut the fuck up. and you should watch what you fucking say to people walking into the fucking hospital, you fuckwit." but i didn't.

we had to wait four hours from when we checked in until they even took me back to pre-op, which was incredibly annoying and not at all helped by justin being verbally crabby about it every ten minutes. maury povich seemed to be on tv the entire time, and he was bringing back women who had been on his show before to confront men they believed to be the fathers of their babies but had turned out not to be, according to the paternity tests, the results of which were announced on air. the record-holder was georgeanne, back for the 12th time; the man on with her was not her child's father, either, much to the relief of his current fiancee. maybe 13 will be georgeanne's lucky number.

while we waited for the pre-op nurse, we heard a surgeon tell the man in the next holding area that the delay was caused by an unusually large number of traumas yesterday, but when my ob came in he said that wasn't true, although he didn't know what caused the delay, so who knows. at least my ob felt bad about it and was apologetic, which was more than could be said of any of the rest of the surgical staff, including the receptionist, who said to me, when she finally called my name and i went to her desk, "oh, you're my pacer." i had to ask her twice to repeat it. lovely way with people, that one.

the man in the pre-op room next to us had cancer in his jaw and maybe somewhere else in his head. the first part of his surgery was going to be the removal of the rest of his teeth, and then they were going to do something that involved his skull and eventually put a plate in it. maybe that man was what the parking attendant was talking about.

they finally got to me, and i got to get naked and start getting poked and causing major disturbances because of my latex allergy. no sooner had they given me a robe than they took it away again, somewhat detracting from the spa experience. three anesthesiologists and a visit from my ob later (amazingly, my ob looked better than anyone should in aqua scrubs and shower cap), i was hooked up and saying goodbye to justin and being wheeled off to the operating room.

i moved myself from the gurney to the table, while an aide tried to keep up with me with the sheet. i assured her it didn't matter - i really had no personal dignity left at this point. that remark caused general laughter among the staff, which i figured was to my benefit; it could only help things if everyone poking at me liked me, right?

the nurses undressed me, which i hadn't expected, although they did cover me with lovely heated blankets. the anesthesiologists gave me the mask, which almost immediately made me dizzy. i remember telling them that i was getting dizzy, and one of them telling me that was normal.

and then the next thing i remember is my breathing tube being pulled out, and hearing my ob talking to someone, and seeing him out of the corner of my eye. i said, "well, that was easy." and then i was being wheeled out to recovery. i was moved from the operating table back to the gurney before i woke up, so i don't know how it happened, but today i'm obsessed with the idea. did everyone take a limb and flop me over? how does that work???

in the recovery room, there were "finding nemo" decals on the wall, which i thought was funny, because in the pre-op room there were also fish decals on the wall, but of ugly, warty-looking fish. i mumbled, "fish everywhere," and i'm sure the nurse thought i was mad, but i was too tired to explain. i was waking up but really didn't want to.

i asked for justin, and my nurse said it would be a little while yet. there was some delay because my ob had kept my chart with him, so the nurse had no orders. finally, she was able to get one of my team of anesthesiologists (apparently the whole latex issue required a group effort), who wanted to give me zofran for my nausea. fortunately, i was now awake enough to protest and explain my opposition. it was enough that i was enlarging the puddle in which i laid every time i sneezed; i didn't need to start soiling myself with poo, too.

the anesthesiologist decided to try phenergan, which worked like a charm. the nurse only gave me half of the dose, for fear that it would make me sleepier while they were trying to wake me up. hard to say whether it made me sleepier when i was already sleepy, but half a dose knocked out my nausea almost immediately. she said i'd have to remember that phenergan works for me in the future, but i looked it up at home, and it's a class c drug, which i wouldn't risk during another pregnancy, anyway. oh, well.

my ob finally showed up with my chart, and let me know that everything went well and that the tissue had been sent off to pathology. i was supposed to call his office today to schedule a four-week follow-up, but i haven't done it yet. i don't think the earth will stop turning if i wait until tomorrow. then they got me cleaned up and into a much more comfortable recliner and let justin in - yea! - and gave me ginger ale. i was able to walk to the restroom on my own steam and pee, at about an hour after i got to recovery, and then justin put my socks on for me and i got dressed and we were home at 7:00.

my mother-in-law heated up the eggplant parmesan she had made for us, and i was able to eat a slice of it and a piece of garlic bread and a cookie before heading up to bed. while we ate, justin and his mom told me what happened at 5:00, when the surgical receptionist was ready to leave work. apparently, whatever caused my delay caused people to still be in the waiting area at 5:00, which isn't the norm. so she asked my family and another family if she could forward her phone to the waiting area phone and if they would take turns answering the phone. i laughed; i thought they were joking. but they weren't. these families waiting on their loved ones took turns answering calls from surgeons and calling out to each other to let them know the doctor wanted to see them. justin answered a call from a surgeon, and called out the family's name and no one answered, so justin told him he'd have to come out to the waiting area and find them himself. when he came out, he asked where the receptionist was; justin said he was looking at him, but he wasn't going to leave the area to go find someone else. he got the number for the hospital's ombudsman from my recovery nurse and is going to follow up this week.

my ob was going to write up some motrin for me, but i told him it upset my stomach, as did everything else along those lines except tylenol, so i took a couple of tylenol before i went to sleep, as my abdomen was just starting to ache a little. once those kicked in, i had no problem going right to sleep. i was just happy to be home and alive and with justin.