Yeah! The surgery was successful…whatever that means. I guess there were no complications, and I didn’t even need a blood transfusion. The surgery started yesterday at about 1 p.m. I remember falling asleep to 12 doctors bouncing around the room prepping for surgery. It’s crazy to believe that they were all there for me!
I woke to the most horrific pain, something I wouldn’t ever wish for anyone to experience. I wasn’t sure where I was, but I think at that point the nurses were wheeling me out if the operation room to Intensive Care. I was screaming out names for help-Dad! Wes! Christine! Lisa! Help-anyone!
I heard a nurse asking who “Christine” was. I thought I saw Dr. Kookinar (my oncologist) and called out for his help. There was about 4-5 nurses that attempted to move me from the gurney to the bed. They were hasty in moving me, which made the pain even more excruciating. I kept asking how much medication I was on and it seemed that the amount was less than I originally had up on the floor prior to surgery! Dr K. increased my dosage a little, but it didn’t help. At this point, all I wanted was to be sedated -- taken out of my misery, whatever it took.
Wes, Christine, Lisa, and my parents were all here and trying to comfort me, but there was nothing they could do. I was extremely confused and kept calling to to whomever would listen; what my situation was? Where was I? Where was my bed in the room? Why did my side and my shoulder hurt? Why was I wrapped around so many cords and tilted to the side? What would happen if I turned over on the right side, would my chest tube stick out? Where was I exposed and why did I have an IV right in the middle of my neck? If I tried to itch my leg, what would happen? What if I had to go to the bathroom, would the decathetor automatically “help out”? The nurse gave me a Xantax (I think) and that’s all I remember from last night.
I woke to one of the nurses giving me my regular routine of meds and I apologized for any profanities I yelled out the night before.