I made it! I checked into the hospital around 10 AM on Wednesday and I was home by five. The short stay unit had some of the worst nursing I have ever been subjected to. Apparently my new name is Honey, or Sugar and sometimes Darlin'. I had to request that my hospital bracelets be put on, after which she only put my main bracelet on I had to again request that she attach my bright orange allergy bracelet, you know so if they gave me drugs they wouldn't be the wrong ones and I Would Die
If you have been around this site for a long time you know my history, if you are new thanks to twitter and my big mouth you may want to go into the archives and look at the first few posts, I am not linking to them because, well for a lot of reasons and I don't have to. So thanks to said history, and resulting PTSD, I tend to freak out when there are things on my face or I can't move my arms. I am VERY clear about this when I do my pre-op screen w/ the hospital and with my doctor and with the nurse who sucked and again I have to tell the nurse who comes and puts in my IV and she promised she would tape a note to my file (which as a side note is kept in a 2" three ring binder) and of course she doesn't but I can hear the nurses talking about me because their station Is Right Outside My Door. I finally can't take it anymore and start to cry. I am advocating for myself and it feels like no one is listening. Why the hell do you tell us to "speak up" if you are still going to ignore me because I have a newsflash if you don't listen you are going to have one freaked out woman on your hands and that isn't good for anyone.
When the anesthesiologist showed up in my room to introduce him self (I was offered the same great lady from my C-section but she would have been switched from some cool heart surgery, how pissed would she have been....) I took a chance and repeated verbatim the same three sentence warning I had told 6 other people, he kind of nods and says it is time to go. Or at least I think he says it is time to go, he is a mumbler (new word) extraordinaire in fact he rivals Milton form the movie Office Space (stapler guy). I ask him if I should walk and he says okay and then he proceeds to push my empty bad out of the room and down the hall, everyone working in the wing finds this very funny and I feel stupid. I totally would have ridden in the bed, I have no problem with it at all and now I look like a jack ass. Now that I am typing this however I wonder if my 3-sentence warning didn't freak him out a little. He did listen hear me however because as I was telling the OR nurse (who was trying to put oxygen on me) the same thing and this time crying while saying it, he told her to stop and I was still sitting up and trying to cry quietly, she stopped and put her arms around me and said it would be fine and she was so sorry she wished I had told someone (WHAT THE FRACK). At this point I was so over it and embarrassed that I was crying that I just kind of hung my head. the last two things I remember were looking over my shoulder and seeing the versed in the syringe all milky white, I said thank you to the Doctor and he said no problem and within about thirty seconds I could no longer sit up I said I was going to go ahead and lay down (ever the control freak to the end) the nurse helped me lay down and the Doctor said that should help with the fear and then I was out. and naked for all nine people in the room to see (why so many people you ask, I agreed to students in the room and also the resident (?) working with the anesthesiologist had the brightest blue eyes I have ever seen he also looked mildly shocked to see me made me wonder if he recognized me from somewhere, thanks small town).
In the next minute I was awake and in some rocking pain. I felt like I had just screwed a Rhino with an attitude problem, as soon as I could get out of there I was gone cheeseburger (the nursing may suck but my god the cheeseburgers are to die for) in hand.
Pathology won't be back until next week my post-op is next Thursday. DocAwesome called me the day after to make sure the bleeding had slowed apparently I bled "more than he cared for" during the D&C portion of the day. This whole situation has left me really wondering about another baby; as in how the hell do I get my hands on one, and we all know what that means...


