Day 1 After Surgery
I completely forgot of my mild fear of vulnerability and my hate for being forced unconscious (never fainted to this day) because my Dr. held my hand while I was drifting away.
I woke up in a haze, looked around and saw that I was in another partition room. I had been out for about two hours, which was a lot longer than I had thought. (I rounded down from 1.5 hours, my body rounded up) I was asked if I wanted saltines or graham crackers, I asked for both. I was fed a light meal of said crackers and plied with sweet lady Sprite. And then the vicodin went down the hole.
She asked me to get up and dress, which I did. From the first moment that I slid off that gurney I knew that my recovery would be much easier than I thought it would be. I heard horror stories of massive immobilization, of pain so horrible one was bedridden for weeks. My feet touched the ground and I thought, well this isn’t so bad, now is it?
I dressed and was wheeled out. The worst part of the day was anesthesia nauseousness. My body apparently didn’t get the memo, and was sending me, “What the hell were you doing?” signals. As I rode in the wheelchair and then in the car, my body was feeling like it had been shaken up in a carnival ride. I crawled into bed and slept it off.
When I awoke, I could feel that all the super powerful hospital drugs had worn off, and again I was happily surprised. It was painful, but it was a pain that I would definitely be able to handle and manage.
This is pretty much an accurate portrayal of my life right after surgery. Pills and Peas. The pills are pretty self explanatory, take as needed, don’t sell them to your friends. The peas, well we are dealing with sensitive stuff and sometimes ice is too cold, but peas are just cold enough. Sleep, pills and peas.
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