Sunday, May 9, 2010 6:10 AM, PDT
Happy Mothers Day to all. It is a beautiful blue sky morning. I woke myself up before Tom could get to my bedside. I feel great. Had a difficult night, worried that I over-dosed myself on pain meds and antibiotics. But there is no arguing with a sleepy self and I needed something to worry about. So I woke up every 2 hours to see if I made it alive. Yep, I'm still here. I may have exercised my right arm a little too much yesterday and focused on a new pain in the center or my chest. The skin fold allows for some stretching but I may have overdone it. Today the feeling in my arm has mostly returned and I there is no swelling. Good.
Following I'm going to go into my hospital experience. I don't recommend you read it unless you are SOOO bored and really have nothing better to do. But I do want to document the time as remembered by a drugged out Semi-Senior (or senior in training-I think 55 is the official age of dementia) So here goes:
We woke early Tuesday for the 5:30am registration time. I packed a small bag to include books, change of clothes , personal toilet items. After Tom's coffee we rose to our feet and looked at one another, squared our shoulders and proceeded to the garage. We drove silently to the hospital, after a brief reminder of which way to go (where are we going today..is it RVMC or Providence? the destinations are all blending). We recalculated and headed towards the main entrance.
We were met by the predictable volunteer who happily and with great gusto escorted us to the intercom-ed door to the surgery waiting area. After a brief wait Vada Nichols was called and we entered the sterile and orderly environment we had toured just the day before. That was a good idea. I felt confident I was in good hands. The surgery attendant even remembered us from the day before. Nice. It's weird that I'm getting a little weak and nervous as I write this down. Tom was with me when a nurse respectfully pulled the shoulder of my newly dawned hospital gown to expose by right breast. She applied a very thick white cream to my nipple without ever really touching me (Neat trick) while Tom looked on. In the wrong context this could have appeared very kinky. THEN she siran wrapped the whole thing like a hostess cupcake and covered me up. This was numbing cream in preparation for the needle pricks-toxic chemical injections. The cream needed an hour to really sink in. I don't remember the details, but an IV was inserted in my left hand and I believe some drugs may have been added because I do remember giggling while Tom looked wide-eyed and surprised at my new disposition. I was instructed to lie down and was covered with a warm blanket. Hmmm..warm blankets. That's the ticket. Hostess cupcake all warm and melty. I closed my eyes and saw a square clown head- it made me laugh. The bed was wheeled through doors and down hallways. I watched the ceiling tiles change form modern white tiles to stained yellow ones, I knew I had left the new surgery center. I was met by a nice young man who explained he was going to insert a needle into by breast, just around the nipple. It was done. I felt nothing. More waiting. Now it gets really vague. I don't know where Tom is. Surgery time, I'm wheeled into the operating room. I look around it is bright, very large room, with many people busy checking equipment, setting the table, washing dishes (that's what I thought, anyway). with a heave and ho I was transferred to an ironing board and strapped down so I wouldn't fall off. Young ladies were speaking to each other in a familiar and casual manner (did I hear the clinking of wine glasses?) could have been about the previous evenings exploits. Out of nowhere a friendly face drops down into sight, smiles and says. .(what?) . .I see a plastic face mask approaching slowly....next thing I know I'm groggy and giggly and speaking to Tom. I guess I was on the table for about 3 hours and 45 minutes?? Not sure, doesn't really matter, to me anyway. It was torture for Tom and Jackie. Maybe they should offer drugs to the family members. - well that's enough for now. I'll continue the hospital adventure later.
Now I'm sleepy again. The sun has gone behind a cloud and the room is in shadows. I feel good. I feel safe at home. I feel loved. Happy Moms day to me. Yeah, happy moms day to me.
Following I'm going to go into my hospital experience. I don't recommend you read it unless you are SOOO bored and really have nothing better to do. But I do want to document the time as remembered by a drugged out Semi-Senior (or senior in training-I think 55 is the official age of dementia) So here goes:
We woke early Tuesday for the 5:30am registration time. I packed a small bag to include books, change of clothes , personal toilet items. After Tom's coffee we rose to our feet and looked at one another, squared our shoulders and proceeded to the garage. We drove silently to the hospital, after a brief reminder of which way to go (where are we going today..is it RVMC or Providence? the destinations are all blending). We recalculated and headed towards the main entrance.
We were met by the predictable volunteer who happily and with great gusto escorted us to the intercom-ed door to the surgery waiting area. After a brief wait Vada Nichols was called and we entered the sterile and orderly environment we had toured just the day before. That was a good idea. I felt confident I was in good hands. The surgery attendant even remembered us from the day before. Nice. It's weird that I'm getting a little weak and nervous as I write this down. Tom was with me when a nurse respectfully pulled the shoulder of my newly dawned hospital gown to expose by right breast. She applied a very thick white cream to my nipple without ever really touching me (Neat trick) while Tom looked on. In the wrong context this could have appeared very kinky. THEN she siran wrapped the whole thing like a hostess cupcake and covered me up. This was numbing cream in preparation for the needle pricks-toxic chemical injections. The cream needed an hour to really sink in. I don't remember the details, but an IV was inserted in my left hand and I believe some drugs may have been added because I do remember giggling while Tom looked wide-eyed and surprised at my new disposition. I was instructed to lie down and was covered with a warm blanket. Hmmm..warm blankets. That's the ticket. Hostess cupcake all warm and melty. I closed my eyes and saw a square clown head- it made me laugh. The bed was wheeled through doors and down hallways. I watched the ceiling tiles change form modern white tiles to stained yellow ones, I knew I had left the new surgery center. I was met by a nice young man who explained he was going to insert a needle into by breast, just around the nipple. It was done. I felt nothing. More waiting. Now it gets really vague. I don't know where Tom is. Surgery time, I'm wheeled into the operating room. I look around it is bright, very large room, with many people busy checking equipment, setting the table, washing dishes (that's what I thought, anyway). with a heave and ho I was transferred to an ironing board and strapped down so I wouldn't fall off. Young ladies were speaking to each other in a familiar and casual manner (did I hear the clinking of wine glasses?) could have been about the previous evenings exploits. Out of nowhere a friendly face drops down into sight, smiles and says. .(what?) . .I see a plastic face mask approaching slowly....next thing I know I'm groggy and giggly and speaking to Tom. I guess I was on the table for about 3 hours and 45 minutes?? Not sure, doesn't really matter, to me anyway. It was torture for Tom and Jackie. Maybe they should offer drugs to the family members. - well that's enough for now. I'll continue the hospital adventure later.
Now I'm sleepy again. The sun has gone behind a cloud and the room is in shadows. I feel good. I feel safe at home. I feel loved. Happy Moms day to me. Yeah, happy moms day to me.
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