Well THAT sucked.

posted by The Vidiot @ 11:42 AM Permalink

That sucked more than the 2000, 2002, 2004 elections COMBINED, multiplied by a bazillian. I'd rather have 8 more years for Bush/Cheney than go through THAT again. Jeebus. It's what they DON'T tell you that's the worst. I didn't even know I was going to be intubated until the day before. INTUBATED! Tube down the throat, machine pumping gas into your chest INTUBATED. I feel so polluted.

Last thing I remember was some idiot rubbing me with sand paper on some spot on my chest so he could get a good connection to a monitoring machine. After that. Gone.

General anesthesia was interesting. I was in a lovely lovely room, with lovely lovely music, oak paneled walls and floors, pictures on the walls, Mr. Vidiot right next to me, walking and laughing and talking, a beautiful warm light. I was so happy, then.... YANK. Reality. I was so pissed they made me leave. Then, it was the bright lights and the poking and the prodding and the Resident going "huh. That's weird, did you see how tachycardiac she got?" Hmmmmm. Oxygen in the nose. Voices everywhere. Some familiar. Thought I heard my grandmother. Though, she's dead. Pain EVERYWHERE. Dry mouth UNBEARABLE. And the Nausea!!!

I was in Neuro ICU/Recovery for about 16 hours. Those nurses were great. (To the pillow queen: I solute you.) Mr. Vidiot tried to stay as much as they'd let him, but they kicked him out a lot. Though, I don't know why, it's not like anyone could sleep in there. My worse pain? My left arm that had all the leads in it. It was hyperextended for 6 hours and hurt like a mutha'. Not the 25 staples on the back of my head, but my arm for pete's sake.

OK, too much. Break now.

This is the most I've sat up. First I've looked at the internet. Ouch.





Ok, so now I'm transferred up to a room, about 16 hours after surgery. This is the tough part. Here's what they don't tell you: that after 24 hours, all the anti-inflammatory stuff they dose you with during anesthesia wear off and you swell up like a balloon, setting off a whole domino reaction of pain. I already looked like a balloon because the surgery was face down and I was in some sort of head stabilizer thing (which apparently screwed into my head in 3-4 places. Still finding the holes) for 6 hours. My face was totally round and puffy. Not a horrible look for me though. They also don't tell you that the steroids neuro patients have to take to keep their head from exploding will make them diabetic AND hallucinate. THAT was charming. The whole time I was on the stronger dose, I thought I was still in the OR and that I was dying. Not to mention that they took out the catheter (pee tube) and I had to pee every hour on the hour because my blood sugar was double what it was supposed to be.

Mr. Vidiot was wonderful throughout. For those of you who know that my level of potty shame is high, he was very good about escorting me and my IV bag to the bathroom. He was also there every minute to adjust my bed, help me with the pillows, calm me down when I couldn't stand the pain any more. Made sure the nurses knew what was going on and that I needed pain meds. He was perfect. The only complaint my family has is that he didn't give enough info over the phone. But that was what I wanted. I didn't feel like everyone knowing I was in there crying like a baby and in pain. What good would that have done anybody? NO, he did what I needed and wanted, no complaints. He slept less than I did I think.

Then, that night, all hell broke loose. I had just worked myself into a semi-comfortable position and was just beginning to doze off when the night nurse, obviously in the wrong room, tried to wake me up and inject something or read some data from a box on my chest. Well, there was no box on my chest and I yelled at her for being in idiot. Mr. Vidiot tried to explain to her that I was in pain and had just dozed off, but she stormed out and called security on him. They tried to kick him out because it was a coed semi-private. But there was no body in the other bed and we had a note from my doctor that he should stay because his presence was comforting. A nightmare ensued. When he was telling me had to go, in my "roid" haze, I thought he was saying good bye to me in the OR and that I was dying, DEEELightful. I became hysterical. The nurses started calling him names like "Mexican" and "Puerto Rican" and saying that I would "Just turn on the water works if anyone said anything." Those women were AWEFUL. (Full report to filed soon.) He was great though. HE totally challenged them. Precious.

It took several hours to resolve, but we ended up on a single room, me on an uncomfortable bed, but at least the ward was quiet and the nurses were non-threatening. At the end of the day, we lost trust in the nursing staff of that ward. No matter what the resolution had been, we would've not been able to to trust them to take care of me. That's a HUGE deal in a hospital. Trust. I probably shouldn't have been discharged so soon, but I really just wanted out there.

So home we went, exhausted, in pain. A friend picked me up in her SUV and drove like an 80 year old woman bless her soul. She got honked at all the way downtown.

It's been a bumpy few days. I'm weening off the steroids, so I'm swelling up a bit, adjusting, swelling goes down, step down my dose, swell up a bit, and so on. Today is my last day on them. There are 2 double strength Advils calling out to me. The steroids made me crazy. Upset my stomach, caused panic attacks, mood swings, messed up my sleep patterns. Mr. Vidiot has had his hands full.

My face is still numb, as are parts of my body. The Dr. said that was normal. Had a migraine the other night. I feel like I stop breathing sometimes, I don't, I just feel like it. My neck is uncomfortable and REALLY stiff. I have an earache from a strained muscle. I must be clenching my teeth a lot because when I wake up, my jaw is sore. I can turn my head to the left about 3/4 and to the right about 1/2. Can't touch my chin to my chest or the back of my head back too far, but it's getting there. It all hurts so much and I can't believe how much pain and discomfort a human can live through.

Oh, that's another thing. Neurosurgeons are inhuman. The guy is obviously a fantastic surgeon, but he's barely human. Totally disconnects himself from that. In the future, I recommend to anyone, get the number of a good resident. They haven't lost heir humanity yet and they can answer 90% of your questions.

Well, that's it. I'm wiped. My typing sucks, my hands are cold, my head needs to rest and I think I may have to poop again! (well, you know, when you have surgery, pooping becomes VERY important. It's all about the poop.)

I can't imagine ever feeling healthy and normal again. I feel like I'm going to be this invalid forever. I know, logically, this is only day 6 out of the hospital and I shouldn't expect so much of myself. But I'm an overachiever. I expected I'd be doing more for myself.

I thank everyone who sent me flowers and chocolates. Work people: your's especially impressed my mom. Mr. Vidiot's family: LOVELY tulips. The guys, G & L and G's mom: The roses are STILL opening. PV & C: Haven't touched the chocolate yet cause of the high blood sugar thing, but will be cracking into it soon, turning my self into a totally fat bastard. I'll call you all when I can muster it.

I cannot believe how wiped out I am.

Bush is up to something and I haven't the energy to figure it out!!!!!!