Anesthesia was such a breeze I don’t even remember it. I appreciate everyone sharing their experiences, I really do! I don’t remember counting-down, or anything like that. I remember being placed on the table under the shiny lights, with about 10 people hovering around me wearing masks, and looking upside-down at the kindly anesthesiologist and then, in a flash, it was two hours later and someone was talking to me and I was trying to respond. I actually would like an anesthesiologist on call for those nights when I can’t sleep. It was awesome.
There was a delay in getting into the OR. A couple of surgeries ran over. So I had to wait, lying in bed, in this holding area with a bunch of other sick people. My mother sat with me. There was one man across from me and I am a bit haunted by him today. My mother and I have talked about him, we both remember him. Most people there had family members hanging out with them. This guy spoke no English, I think they were trying to find a translator on short notice, he had had a stroke (and there were a host of other problems), and he couldn’t speak, and nobody could find his family members. Perhaps it was a matter of translating. They were asking him questions, like, what year is it, what is your name … and the questions upset him. He was clearly very frightened. And he had no one there. I have thought about that man a lot since.
Every doctor/nurse/technician I met was very nice. I had no idea what was going on half the time, but they all treated me with kindness and respect, which makes a huge difference. The dude who was head of Anesthesiology came and interviewed me, and he had a thick German accent, which originally made him sound cold and clinical, but then I realized how kind he was. He asked me when I had last eaten. I said “Last night.” (It was, by that point, 2 hours past my original surgery appointment, due to the back-up. I was ravenous.) He murmured, looking at his chart, “Poor girl.” Kindness like that matters a lot when you are wearing a gown, a bracelet with your name on it, a little net cap around your head and attached to an IV.
There was one nurse who I flagged down, concerned because I had contacts in, and I was supposed to take them out before surgery. But I had no saline solution, or containers, and I hadn’t brought my glasses. Nobody had told me. She totally got the situation, and went and got me two plastic containers, and she even put a label on one of them: “RIGHT”, and also filled up the containers with a saline solution. She said to me, “If you’re as blind as I am, you’ll want to wait til the last minute to take them out. Your mother can take the containers.” She was a contact-lens wearer, OBVIOUSLY. Not only sympathetic to the situation, but knowing beforehand what I would need. I am sure it happens a lot (people having contacts in and needing to put them somewhere), but her thoughtful labeling of one of the containers as RIGHT was strangely comforting.
My doctor kept coming to visit me in what I thought of as the “holding pen”, telling me it wouldn’t be long now, maybe 20 more minutes, 40 more minutes.
And then once it was time, everything happened very quickly. I was rolled off into the night, given some sort of sedative to chill me out. I was rolled into this scary room, blasted with light, and moved onto the main table. I then promptly began to float above myself in an alarming yet also awesome manner, rising up in a disembodied fashion to meet the smiling face of the anesthesiologist, and then suddenly it was 2 hours later.
I’ve been pretty tired since Tuesday, but it looks like I am recovering well. And the situation that made me go get surgery in the first place appears to have vanished completely (knock on wood), so we’ll see what the next month brings, but it’s already a relief to not have to be dealing with that … situation.
Thank God my mother was here to ferry me home. I felt fine, ready to eat a three-course meal and guzzle two cans of seltzer, but I was quite tired and crampy. They gave me some Tylenol with Codeine which knocked out the pain, and yesterday I just lolled about, feeling better with every moment. That’s a good thing, because I am as busy as I have ever been, and it was difficult to even take the two days off for this surgery.
Thank you everyone for your well-wishes. I wrote the same thing in a comment to that original “surgery” post, but figured I would post something on the main page as well.
I woke up yesterday morning, after a good solid 8 hours of sleep, and the sun hadn’t risen yet. I glanced out my kitchen window and saw some pretty extraordinary things going on in the clouds. I was feeling spry and healed and happy, Mum was still asleep, so I went downstairs and out into the chill dawn to snap a picture of what I saw.
glad to hear everything went well, sheila! hope things continue in that manner; you deserve it.
I think it was Joe DiMaggio who romantically said that he played baseball as hard as he could every day, because that might be the day some kid was seeing him for the first (and maybe only) time, and he owed the kid that. It’s the attitude that doctors/nurses need to take, because for each person that’s in the hospital for their 10th go-round with some problem or another, there’s someone else who is about to go through something that terrifies them less because it’s actually worth being scared about than because it’s new. In one of Malcolm Gladwell’s books, he mentions that the doctors who get sued for malpractice aren’t necessarily worse than the doctors who don’t; in fact, they might be much better. The doctors who get sued for malpractice are the ones with shitty bedside manner, at least as perceived by the patient, which Gladwell says can just come down to tone of voice. Point being, I think all of us just want to feel like the people taking care of us really care about us. If we believe that, it’s easier to trust that all that other stuff will be just fine.
Glad to hear you had a good experience and that you’re responding well. Rest up.
So glad you came through the experience so well! Welcome back! thats a beautiful sunrise picture. Couldnt wait to get to the computer this morning to check on you. Rest and relax, and have a great weekend.
Good to hear your surgery went fairly smoothly, and that you’ve come out on the other side with high spirits intact!
Jason – I hadn’t heard that romantic DiMaggio quote – wonderful. I saw a nurse treat a patient who spoke no English VERY impatiently – and it upset me. People are stressed out just walking BY a hospital – I think a lot of slack needs to be given for people who aren’t quite at the top of their game, because they are afraid of sick.
I remember very well that Malcolm Gladwell section – was that from Blink? I haven’t read Outliers yet, so I imagine it was Blink. First impressions go a long way. The German man saying “Poor girl” because I hadn’t eaten in 24 hours really helped me relax and feel that even with all the clinical malarkey, I was in a place run by HUMANS.
I really really felt for the guy who had no family there and couldn’t remember his own name because of the stroke. You could feel the concern of the doctors – they were realizing how upset he was, so I could feel them adjusting their tones of voice. Again: a little of that goes a long way.
I appreciate everyone’s thoughts!
Gina – thanks so much! I took about 30 pictures of the dawn sky – it was just incredible!!!
Amelie – thank you!
Kenji – I bounced back pretty quick. I feel great. So glad it’s over!! Thanks!
Oh, and this was great: When the German guy was talking to me, my mother sat next to me listening. I finally remembered to introduce her. He said, laughing, “You’re her mother? You look so young!” We all laughed, and then he said, “I thought you were her partner!”
Mum and I laughed about that later. We were lesbian partners in this man’s mind, and he just accepted it.
Great to hear you went through it okay and are on the other side feeling better and healing! After the amount that I have been in hospitals with sick relatives over the past 2 years, I’ve learned that it really takes a special kind of person to be a nurse/doctor with a great bedside manner. The ones with empathy, understanding, and patience really are a godsend.
Jen W.- it really is as simple as “sympathizing” with the fact that I haven’t eaten in 24 hours. I mean, I wasn’t whining about it – it was just a fact, but it registered with him. I trusted him from that point on. Weird how that happens!
Glad to hear you’re recovering well! Relax and get back to 100% Or maybe like 110% for that extra edge. It sounds like you had great people taking care of you at the hospital, which is something you just can’t overvalue. The nurse with the contacts reinforces my belief that even in in the midst of mayhem, a savvy, understanding nurse can turn an experience in which you can’t help but feel awfully vulnerable into something you can actually wall away from with a positive memory. Get well!
Noonz – absolutely. That nurse totally got how helpless I would feel once I had taken the contacts out. She just took care of it FOR me. Good on her!
Right, it’s really the little things that they notice and take care of…it makes a difference.
I’m glad to hear you’re doing well. Keep doing that.
Oh Sheila, glad you’re doing better! I was concerned about you.
Very glad to hear everything went well for you. Usually the words ‘surgery’ and ‘post-mortem’ imply a more ominous outcome :-) Good luck on a speedy recovery.
So glad to hear it was successful Sheila :) I had surgery a few years ago and what I remember the most the the shot for relaxation before the anesthesia. It was like floating, without a care in the world. On rough days I’d love dose of that :) Happy that you are on recovery road!
Very glad to know you came through everything okay. Very cool.
Good news. Isn’t it grand when a surgery is in the past and not hanging out there in the future?
So delighted you’re through that and it seems like it was a relatively painfree experience – you were in my thoughts. You’re so right about those little flashes of humanity in that kind of situation; they are so, so tiny but so, so vital. And that is gas that he thought you and your mam were girlfriends!
Oh, Sheila, I am so glad that all went well with your surgery and I wish you, from the bottom of my heart (does heart have a bottom?) speedy recovery. I know it hurts — I myself went through two surgeries and one procedure and I understand those pre-surgery eerie moments, as well as the post-surgery, or post-mortem hours! I was worried about my glasses, too, — I don’t wear contacts — what to do with them, where to put them, but a nice nurse took care of my glasses, and I found them in a case, tucked under my pillow.
Thank you for the amazing picture. Recently I sent to one my friends from Europe some pics of sunset above Manhattan, seen from the Queensboro Bridge (I live in the burbs and on my way home I take an express bus, riding across the bridge every single evening. I never get tired of the skyline!)
Last night I’d spent a couple of hours, till 2am, browsing the Books section of your blog, reading about some authors I knew nothing about (like Nicholas Mosley). I again wish to thank you for those posts, so enlightening! I already made a long TBR list. Luckily for me, I work in the general library at Columbia Univ., and if I won’t be able to purchase some of the books I wish to own, at least I can borrow them.
I also read your post-letter to that lurking character, “Sheila fashions,” and laughed out loud, although it’s kind of sad. Your blog is so much more than a simple fashion report (I wouldn’t be here if it were something to that effect).
My best wishes,
Doina
I’m very glad to hear you came through your surgery so well. That moment before you go back into the “holding area” is always a little scary, no matter how “simple” your particular procedure might be. Hope you recover quickly.
Welcome back! I’m so glad to hear it went smoothly and you’re recovering well.
That nurse who put “RIGHT” on the plastic containers makes me tear up. That’s someone who gets it.
SO glad you’re doing better, hon.
Glad you’re on the mend Sheila!
Tracey – I know, right??? She totally got it.
Kate – thank you!
Doc Horton – it is indeed. This entire week seemed like it would never end merely because the event on Tuesday. And of course the lead-up to it was endless, with tests and probes and blood taken and questionnaires, and this sonogram there, and that sonogram there – I had four sonograms in 2 weeks. Ugh!! But it’s over now. I can freakin’ RELAX.
DBW – thank you. I owe you an email, friend.
Doina – ah, another person who understands the whole contact-lens thing. Thank you very much for your nice words! Nicholas Mosley can be pretty tough, but ultimately he is so so rewarding. I haven’t read all of his stuff. Hopeful Monsters is the one to read. I’ve tried to read his other books, and none grabbed me like that one.
I had totally forgotten about that bizarre “Sheila Fashions” thing – I wonder what the heck that person was looking for??
Oh, yes. By all means, rise from your recovery bed, and write ME a long letter. I’m sure that’s just what the doctor ordered.
Glad you pulled through.
Any light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel moments after Moe hit you with the mallet?
Wonderful photo. Just beautiful.
DBW – as I floated up into the upside-down anesthesiologist, the last words I heard him say were, “Please write to your friend, DBW.” I take such instructions VERY seriously.
Phil – No! I was hoping I would see a tunnel with some light but I seriously fell asleep without even knowing I was doing so. What is IN that stuff?? And can I get some more??
Sheila,
I’m so glad you are doing well, and happy to hear that you were treated with such kindness. I work in a hospital, and it is so important to care for patients, not just treat their conditions. When we forget that, we might as well close the doors.
Jill
Jill – thanks so much. It is nice to hear someone from your profession weigh in. I really believe (after my experience – with myself, and also with those who cared for my father during his long illness) that it’s not just the big things that matter, but the little things. You need BOTH. I so appreciate what you all do. :)
Hope you stay well! Aloha.
Glad to hear you’re on the mend. Get well quick – Jeff Bridges will be back on the big screen in a few short weeks!
So glad you are through it and recovering! The only time I ever had surgery I was 8, and everyone was super nice to me, but that was a shiny, new, practically empty as yet hospital teeming with staff and I was a very small girl – I can imagine that things can be a bit more inhuman when you’re a grownup. Doctors can forget that inside we’re only ever scared little girls (or boys) – hurray for the ones who don’t.
Oh God I just remembered my funniest doctor-not-giving-a-crap story – it’s kind of gross though, so if you don’t like Pap smear stories, look away now. Last year I was dutifully getting a Pap test when the doctor’s mobile rang literally, um, mid-task. No problem, I thought, she’ll just ignore it. Er, wrong. She abandons me and not only answers the phone with her plastic-gloved hand, but proceeds to talk (in Russian) at length to someone called Victor. I had no clue what to do – there I was, lying there, legs akimbo, speculum in place, at a complete loss. I found it pretty funny at the time, but it was really spectacularly bad form! Glad you had people around who were actually care-givers, as per job title!
I love you! XOXOXO
I love you too, Marianne!!! Hope you guys are doing great – maybe we’ll see each other Thanksgiving? Not sure what the plan is yet.