Wake Up Sandra!!
It's Monday 5pm. I've been home now for about 24 hours. I managed to make myself come home Sunday - cause I couldn't take another night in the hospital.
I had to be at the hospital 6:30am. Arrgh. I went to sleep at 11pm. Then, suddenly, the nurse is waking me up from anesthesia and telling me everything went ok. But I'm not okay because I'm having trouble breathing. So I start to yell at the nurse when I suddenly realized I was sleeping and had the pillow over my face. What a way to start the day! Can I cancel yet? No.
It's 6:30am and I'm reading a mint copy of "Popular Mechanics, January 1990". The Saturn was the new car with the new thinking that was going to save GM. Fifteen years later and GM is still having problems.
They finally start the poking and prodding. The anesthesiologist said that they'd have to put a tube down my throat because of my breathing anatomy and because it's a long, long major surgery. Oh great now I'm feeling much better! Hey I got an idea: I'll just cancel half the surgery and then it won't be a bad thing. No. Nobody liked that idea.
They're wheeling me in and make me scoot over to the operating table. I ask about a final pee and with a chuckle the nurse says "oh we'll take care of that". Hmph. Put your arm over here and...out like a light.
Happy happy dreams, then "Wake up Sandra! Wake up! It's over, everything went well. Sandra wake up". Poking, prodding, beeping, blood pressure cuff squeezing. I start yelling, PAIN!! I'm in pain! Does anyone care. No. I'm grasping to the sheets so hard, my fingers and knuckles are white and I'm hitting that stupid Morphine drip thing. They want to take an xray and I yell - NO I'm in pain. Why aren't I passing out from the pain? Aren't you supposed to pass out with intense pain? The answer: no. "Sandra, you control the pain relief, press the button" says the nurse. Gee it would have been nice to let me know that before I had surgery. On the positive side: no vomiting.
Now they bring me to the room and the first thing I do is grab the TV remote control. I need to hear someone else talking, not just my brain telling me I fucked up.
more to come....
I had to be at the hospital 6:30am. Arrgh. I went to sleep at 11pm. Then, suddenly, the nurse is waking me up from anesthesia and telling me everything went ok. But I'm not okay because I'm having trouble breathing. So I start to yell at the nurse when I suddenly realized I was sleeping and had the pillow over my face. What a way to start the day! Can I cancel yet? No.
It's 6:30am and I'm reading a mint copy of "Popular Mechanics, January 1990". The Saturn was the new car with the new thinking that was going to save GM. Fifteen years later and GM is still having problems.
They finally start the poking and prodding. The anesthesiologist said that they'd have to put a tube down my throat because of my breathing anatomy and because it's a long, long major surgery. Oh great now I'm feeling much better! Hey I got an idea: I'll just cancel half the surgery and then it won't be a bad thing. No. Nobody liked that idea.
They're wheeling me in and make me scoot over to the operating table. I ask about a final pee and with a chuckle the nurse says "oh we'll take care of that". Hmph. Put your arm over here and...out like a light.
Happy happy dreams, then "Wake up Sandra! Wake up! It's over, everything went well. Sandra wake up". Poking, prodding, beeping, blood pressure cuff squeezing. I start yelling, PAIN!! I'm in pain! Does anyone care. No. I'm grasping to the sheets so hard, my fingers and knuckles are white and I'm hitting that stupid Morphine drip thing. They want to take an xray and I yell - NO I'm in pain. Why aren't I passing out from the pain? Aren't you supposed to pass out with intense pain? The answer: no. "Sandra, you control the pain relief, press the button" says the nurse. Gee it would have been nice to let me know that before I had surgery. On the positive side: no vomiting.
Now they bring me to the room and the first thing I do is grab the TV remote control. I need to hear someone else talking, not just my brain telling me I fucked up.
more to come....
posted by sandy at 4:55 PM
1 Comments:
Before surgery I made sure my surgeon knew how to treat the post-op pain. The morning of surgery I asked again, I told everyone I met before surgery, BUT no one listened. It's hard to fight for your rights when you're just out of surgery. In the fog I just kept repeating, like a mantra: "I'm in chronic pain therapy so I need more medication then a regular person" To which I was answered everytime: 'Oh yes, I read that in the chart' and they continued to do nothing. In some way It's everyone's fault and it's no ones fault. No one took the extra step to ensure I was OK. Why should they? Prescribing more nacrotics will get you in trouble. Or will it? to be contd
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