The Bean Blog

Tales from a cranky sinusitis patient

Jul 11, 2007 At least I still have my health?

Today I got up at the buttcrack of dawn. Not by choice because I think I’ve made it perfectly clear I’m not a morning person. My alarm went off at 5:30am. I have only seen 5:30am a handful of times in my life and most of those were in my teenage years and early twenties when I hadn’t gone to bed yet.

But this time I was not out partying. Unfortunately I have gotten way to old to stay up until 5:30am. I’m lucky if I can make it to last call at a bar. Honestly, I’m lucky to even make it to a bar these days.

No, today I got up for sinus surgery. My surgery was at 8am, but they require you to be at the hospital one and a half hours early so they can send in no fewer than three nurses to ask you the exact same questions over and over. Just so you know, internet, I last ate at 7pm last night and I last drank something around 10:30pm.

Answering the same questions over and over again gets a little annoying on a good day when I’ve had a full ten hours of sleep, breakfast and a glass of OJ. On a day when I’m sitting in a cold hospital room with a gown that shows off my backside at 6 freaking 30 in the morning, it makes me want to reach over, rip off the nurses head and spit in her eye sockets. And that’s me being nice about it. [Have I mentioned I'm not much of a morning person?]

Before the first nurse left my room she handed me a lovely hospital gown [it definitely was no Versace] and told me “I know were operating on your sinuses, but I need you to take everything off.” So I stripped down to my underwear and put on my gown. I looked over at Lee and said, “Do you think they’ll let me keep my underwear on?” as if Lee, with all his medical knowledge, would have any clue.

When the second nurse came in I asked her if I could keep them on. She looked at how long my surgery was scheduled for — an hour — and asked me if I had any problems with incontinence — I have given birth to four children, but I can usually still make it to the bathroom, so I said “no” — and she told me I could keep them on. Whew. No need for a catheter. [Since were on the subject of catheters, I was a Certified Nurses Aide back in the day. And I put my fair share of catheters in to the patients at the nursing home I worked in. Let's just say it's not a good time.]

If I would have been thinking clearly I would have weighed my options on this whole underwear issue. Cause, seriously, what’s worse? Having complete strangers who you will probably never see again [and even if you do see them you won't remember it because you were out cold] possibly seeing your personal private girly parts. Or having them see your two year old green Christmas underwear that says “Santa’s Little Helper” on the front and has a reindeer eating Christmas lights on the butt? I’m almost thinking the bare vajayjay would have been the better choice.

Once I got my gown on, got my IV in and answered the same questions at least 425 times, they wheeled me back to the OR. The last thing I remember was the anesthesiologist putting the oxygen mask over my face. I remember thinking, “He didn’t even strap it across my head. Without the tight grip on my mouth and nose how will it ever knock me out?” Umm…yeah. Apparently it doesn’t matter.

When I woke up my throat hurt. It seems odd to go in for surgery on my nose and come out with a very, very sore throat. Those breathing tubes suck. [Or do they blow? Ha Ha. I crack myself up.]

They wheeled me in to a small room where I was greeted by Lee and my friend, Necole. The nurse handed me a glass of water. I tried to drink the whole glass, but she would only let me take a few sips. I guess she wanted to make sure I was going to be able to keep the water down. But man, was I pissed. It was like I was four and she had just taken away my lollipop. Dude. Did you not just hear me when I said my throat hurt?

As soon as the left the room I downed the rest of the glass. I even ate all the ice chips just to spite her.

Before she left the room I told her I was ready to go. I HATE hospitals. With a capital H. A. T. E. [which I think was obvious since I capitalized them all when I wrote it the first time, but just for even more emphasis here it is again...H A T E]. She laughed me off and told me they wanted to keep me a little while longer. The second anybody in scrubs walked in to my room I announced, “I’m ready to go home.” Eventually they got sick and tired of it and brought in paperwork for me to sign and a wheelchair for me to ride off in to the sunset in.

As I was getting up to get dressed the nurse asked if I needed any help. She said the first time getting up might be a little rough. I actually felt a little dizzy, but I refused to let her see that so I just played it off like all was fine. I was going home no matter what. I got dressed, plopped my butt in the wheelchair and I was off. I was home by 11am.

As soon as I got home and my body saw my family room it decided it needed a nap right then and now. If I had left the decision up to my legs I would have curled up right there by the back door. I had to literally drag myself up the stairs and in to bed. I slept until 3:30pm.

Other than my throat, which is still killing me, I feel pretty good. I’m a little groggy, [in fact, I'm considering another nap] but I have no pain in my nose or forehead and no drainage so far. The next few weeks will tell how successful this surgery is. Hopefully my daily nose congestion will simmer down to just a few times a year and I’ll never get pink eye again [which I got AGAIN on Monday and am still taking drops for...AGAIN] and the headaches will taper off. Only time will tell.

Thanks for all the prayers and warm wishes. I really appreciate it!

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