Surgery went well. I’m in a drug-induced haze, though, so I need to go sleep this off.
The people at the hospital were great. Very kind to me and my family.
They had trouble starting an IV on me. I had veins that annoy the blood people. But they finally got one going in my hand.
Several medical personnel warned me of the pain of injecting the radioactive dye. The procedure was that they took me back about 30 minutes before surgery, gave me four injections, went back to my outpatient cubicle, then took me to surgery. They injections are done without anesthesia because the anesthesia injections would be painful anyway! Each person told me it would sting and burn at each injection, but that the procedure was pretty fast. So, I was bracing myself for this, trying to think happy thoughts and get a good solid positive vision in my mind.
But it wasn’t hard at all! Each injection did sting, but just for a second. The whole procedure took about 90 seconds and by the time it was done, the pain was gone. It hurt less than getting a flu shot, which always stings me for half an hour.
Almost as soon as I got back to my room, they whisked me to surgery. I was asleep in a second. I hear the surgery went well and the surgeon is very confident they got everything.
I was a cantankerous brat when I woke up from surgery. I was weepy, annoyed and vomiting. I’m not sure if the vomiting was from the anesthesia or the Demerol, but once I actually upchucked (instead of just saying I was about to do it), I got a shot of some anti-nausea medicine.
I got back to my room and the pain in my breast was overwhelming. I was having spasms, much like when I had the biopsy, but worse. They would take my breath away, make me cry and all that. Troy pestered the nurse to get me something else. She showed up with two pills and as I swallowed, Troy asked, “Now, what is that?” Vicodin. Dang. That’s the stuff that doesn’t take any pain away and makes me sick to my stomach.
So, I was screwed. The nurse immediately brought another drug and gave it to me. However, she needed the doctor in order to send me home with a stronger drug than Vicodin.
I waited and waited. The nurse finally returned (I don’t know how long it took) and said the doctor had gone into surgery. As soon as he got out, they would get me a new drug.
Waves after waves of pain hit me. It was really rough. I had tons of nausea from the Vicodin as well, and had to take more anti-nausea drugs.
The surgery my surgeon was doing took much longer than expected. We waited and waited. Four hours, Troy tells me now. Troy kept telling me, “the person in surgery needs him more than you.”
We waited because apparently the next level of drugs requires the doctor to write a prescription and hand it to the patient. It was a controlled substance and that’s what they have to do.
Finally, he showed up and I got the drugs and I finally got released.
Troy drove to CVS to put in the prescriptions, then took me home. He called our friend Tanya to have her “babysit” me while he went to pick up the prescriptions.
I tried to sleep, but couldn’t. So much time had passed that it was time for another dose of the pain meds when Troy got back. Finally, I slept.