Dr Mayo decided to go ahead and do the surgery. My platelet counts were still low, but he was sure they'd come around. And indeed they did--they were 150 this morning.
I said goodbye to Krista a little after 2 pm as they wheeled me off to OR room #12. There I got to chat with some of the surgical team, including the anesthesiologist. Normally they don't keep epidurals in longer than five days, but they decided that this one was in good shape so they reused the same one.
The OR looks like a clean mechanic's shop, full of computers, bright overhead lights with digital cameras mounted in them, lots of power tools and other stuff made out of stainless steel. Also there's a whiteboard on the wall with about a dozen labels with highly technical names like "boats" and "peanuts." During surgery someone keeps a tally of what things are used, and then at the end they account for each item to make sure they don't leave anything inside the patient. I definitely wouldn't want boats or peanuts left inside my body.
Somewhere along the line they slipped some kind of cocktail into my epidural, and I vaguely remember my mind getting very sluggish.
Next I remember waking while being wheeled to recovery, passing in and out of consciousness. The main problem this time was not vomiting but shortness of breath--I was breathing really fast, almost gasping for breath. They told me to breathe deeply and slowly which I tried to do, but it took awhile before that stopped.
I shivered like last time, but less. This time, instead of piling warm blankets all around me they laid this plastic skirt (like the skirt on a hovercraft) over me that had a blow-dryer sort of thing blowing warm air all over my body. This seemed to be more effective. Seemed to, but as I was in and out of consciousness, it's hard to tell.
It's hard to describe the overall feeling of coming out of general anesthesia. It's like gravity is nine times stronger, pulling at your whole body, your mind even. It's hard to focus your eyes and difficult to compose thoughts and speak them, even simple ones like "I'm shivering." The pain and pressure from having one's hip chiseled, sawn, drilled in seven different places added to the distraction. It took strenuous effort to reply to questions. I also tried to listen to the nurses talk to get an idea of how I was doing.
The first time I remember seeing a clock it was a little before 7 pm. A little after 8 pm they wheeled me to my room and I remember seeing Krista and her mom Ginger waiting for me in the hall. I was still very uncomfortable. Probably I was still feeling the effects of general anesthesia, but one major reason was that they sent me from recovery to my room without an epidural bag (an IV bag filled with epidural meds), so for a while I had no pain coverage and could tell. My nurses were frustrated about this, and did what they could to get one, and by 9:20 or so they had it hooked up. Around 10 pm I began to experience pain relief.
And also bowel relief. Evidently the laxative we had used in the morning wasn't finished acting, because around 11 pm I messed my bed. My poor nurses--shift change starts at 11, so cleaning up me and my bed added a good half hour to their work day. They were great and didn't complain about having to do such a nasty job. It was a challenging task to do on a patient right out of such a major surgery, because any kind of movement is so difficult.
The nurses monitored my vital signs every hour for the first four hours. Finally around 1:30 am Krista and I went to sleep, Krista on a hospital cot/chair. They woke me several times to draw blood, take my vitals, etc. etc.
Around 3:30 am something weird happened that concerned me somewhat. I suddenly woke from sleep, but in a way that felt very much like waking after passing out. It felt like a vein in my neck was overpressurized, like when an IV line gets plugged. I touched it with my finger and it felt hard. Right away the hardness subsided. I was imagining a clot in my neck causing all the pressure.
I told the nurse what happened and she checked with Dr. Mayo's PA, Sarah. Because I didn't feel disoriented or confused Sarah thought it was not a clot. It did not happen again. Later when I told Dr. Mayo he thought it was probably a muscle spasm, which makes sense because my head was turned entirely to one side and likely my chin had dropped to my shoulder--that uncomfortable position kids sometimes assume when they fall asleep in a car seat. Thankfully, it has all turned out OK.
I didn't sleep much more the rest of the night, but I did get to see the west-end of a sunrise on the clouds.
10 years
8 years ago
