This was my first surgery (and I promise this'll be the last post about it!) and my first time under general anesthesia. It was weird. I feel like I parted ways with my body for a while and wish I could know what happened while I was under. Like I lost a day of my life. Now, I go to sleep for about 8 hours every night and lots of things happen while I'm sleeping. But not to me. I am in the same place when I wake up and all of my parts are there. This time I was asleep for 8 hours and a lot of shit went down when I was sleeping! It's hard not to wonder EXACTLY what took place.
The morning of surgery, I was very tense but hanging in there. I met the anesthesiologist and head nurse and they told me what was going to happen on their end and started my IV. They explained that after we went into the OR they would ask me those repetitive questions- what's your name, what are you here for, like they had already asked me 50 times. I was ready. I knew my name AND what I was there for! This is a test I can ace! Or not...
Before walking away, the anesthesiologist gave me a groovy hat to put on and said he'd give me a little something to help me relax. Awesome! I put my hat on thinking, "Ah this is working already." I laid back and looked at the nurses cart. Suddenly, I thought, "Whoa- this is strong!" as all warped and faded to black.
Next thing I knew J was waking me up in recovery. At least that's what he said. But I refused to believe the poor guy. I said he was lying because I clearly hadn't even gone to the operating room! I was supposed to be asked more questions. As far as I was concerned, if that didn't happen nothing had happened. I have only partial, vague memories of it all but I remember It was hard to talk and I couldn't open my eyes. I couldn't be convinced that it was over until I heard my friend B's voice. I knew she was going to be there later in the day when it was over. I didn't believe my poor husband but I believed her.
But there's lots of stuff that I don't remember. I was told that I said I was really high. I insisted that I was sliding off the bed. I asked how "they" looked. I said that I was underwater. (That I understand at least, the feeling that I couldn't surface.) And more. It's disconcerting to think about saying things while YOU aren't really there. (Or at least it seems that way.) And it made me wonder about the before. Did they intend to knock me out? Im pretty sensitive to that kind of thing. When he came back was he all, "Ah shit. I did it again." Or more importantly -DID it actually knock me out? I was sure that it did but what if I'm wrong? Maybe I was still "awake" but I just don't remember. Maybe I did answer questions. OR do something stupid like streaking in the pre-op.
If I WAS awake... were they messing with me? (Like when my college roommate would talk in her sleep and you could ask her questions?) Call me unprofessional but if I was the nurse I'd be asking my patients, "Do you want to play Truth or Dare?", "What's the worst thing you ever did.", Or, "The doctor needs you to repeat this. 'One smart fellow he felt smart, two smart fellows they felt smart' and so on. Make sure you say it very quickly." I'd like to imagine that I danced all the way into the OR with my arms around my new besties slurring, "Did I tell you I love you guys?! You're the best! No, you are!" And that they all thought that I was soooo awesome that they took special care to make sure all went well and that my new breastesess would be awesome.
But, I'd really like to imagine that I said something wonderful to my husband in the recovery room instead of assuming he was messing with me. I recently saw this video (click here) of a guy in recovery who couldn't believe how lucky he was when he found out that he was married to the hottie he was talking to. I wish I'd said something like that to him instead of, "J' accuse!" Well, thanks to revisionist history, I can tell myself that our senses' of humor made me think that he was tricking me. And that he wasn't offended, knowing that I wasn't in my "right" mind. I really hope that me telling him how awesome he is, now when I am totally "sober", is more meaningful.
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