Friday, December 30, 2011

My Version of Surgery Day

I know it was 10 days ago, but I still feel like I need to post my version of the surgery.  Maybe for my own family members who decide to get an implant one day.  I have dozens and dozens of family members with severe to profound hearing loss.  Not one has gotten a cochlear implant.  I hope with my success, others will be more willing to consider it.

As Evan said in his post we arrived to the hospital at 10 am.  The first thing they did is a pregnancy test.  Though they wouldn't tell me that.  It doesn't take long to put two and two together.  The nurse asked if I had a hysterectomy.  Uh....no.  She said they would need a urine sample.  I told her I wasn't pregnant.  She said "we don't do social health histories."  Hahahha.  Cracked me up.

They weighed me (which I found out later is how they determine the amount of anesthetic you need), took my blood pressure, all that jazz.  I had to strip down and put on the lovely hospital gown and accessories, including booties and a cap.  I was looking HOT.  Especially since you can't have makeup, anything in your hair, or wear contacts. 

And then we waited.  And waited.  And waited.  My Doctor came in and reassured me he got a good night of sleep (he has a new baby and I told him at our appt last week that I hoped he slept the night before surgery).  We talked a little bit about the devices and about surgery.  He said we had to wait for the operating room to become available.  We waited some more.  Finally the anesthesiologist came in and asked me some questions.  I can't remember any of them.  They must have been about my history with anesthetic.  She waited as I said goodbye to Evan and then walked me into the OR.  It was weird to just walk right into an operating room.  I couldn't see because the nurse took my glasses.  But it was so bright.  The last two times I've been in OR it was to have a baby and I was wheeled in and stayed awake the whole time.  I knew I would be put under for the implant surgery but I was not sure exactly what to expect.  I hopped on this tiny operating table myself.  Doctor came over and said hi and confirmed something.  Of course I have no idea what any of the medical staff were saying because they all had masks on.  There were a ton of people in there.  At least 10.  A nurse asked me my birthdate and what surgery I was having (I had to answer that probably at least 6 times that day, guess they wanted to make sure they were operating on the right person).  I was laying down looking up at the lights while the nurses wrapped me up in blankets.  My last conscious thought was "that's so nice of them to put blankets on me."

Then I woke up.  Just like that.  I was in recovery.  I immediately knew two things.  One, was that it was late.  Two, that I only had one implant.  I had gone over this moment in my head probably ten times before having surgery.  Every time I saw myself wake up in recovery, my left hand went to my left ear and there was no implant.  I never saw it any other way.  I think this was God's way of preparing me for only one.  So when I woke up in recovery, I heard the nurse say my name.  That only meant one thing.  My left hearing aid was in.  Or else I wouldn't have heard her.  I put my hand up to my left ear.  No implant.  I asked her what time it was.  She said "you were in there a long time, it's 7:45."  I went in just before 1:00.  So I knew there had been complications.  The nurse was asking me all kinds of questions which I couldn't seem to make sense of.  I just wanted to know what happened so I asked her "why one?"  She said something about the Dr telling me in a bit.  She asked if I was dizzy.  I wasn't.

The Dr came in and I grabbed his hand.  I don't know why I did that.  It's like I felt connected to him and wanted him to know how thankful I was.  He asked me if I was dizzy.  I didn't answer him.  I asked him "why one?"  He said he would tell me later when I was more with it and asked again about being dizzy.  I wasn't.

Evan came in and I asked him "why one?"  He said he would tell me later.  He may have asked me some questions but I don't remember.  All I wanted to know was why I only had one implant and no no one would tell me.  I began to get scared that maybe I didn't have either implant.  That they had opened me up but couldn't put one in.  People kept trying to talk to me and keep me awake.  All I wanted was an answer and then to sleep for the next three weeks.  I was so tired.  I just couldn't keep my eyes open.  And I couldn't comprehend what people were saying other than repeatedly asking me if I was dizzy.  No, I am not dizzy!!!

I was in and out of it.  A different dr came in and I tried talking to him but he spoke too fast.  I wanted to tell him he was talking to a deaf person who was recovering from surgery and he needed to learn how to speak better.  But the words wouldn't come out, darn it.  After he left, I told Evan I couldn't understand him and he said he answered the questions for me.  I still don't know who was.  I keep forgetting to ask Evan.

Finally my doctor came in and I again asked him "why one?"  He began to explain what happened.  About damaging two devices and not wanting to risk operating on my left ear.  I told him he owed me.  Hahahaha.  He cracked up and said "people on anesthetic say the funniest things."  I wasn't joking and I wasn't high.  Well, I was high but that was a conscious thought.  I remember telling him thank you.  Next thing I remember he was back but was wearing his street clothes, not his scrubs.  So some time must have passed between.  He again asked if I was dizzy.  He said he would be sticking around for a few minutes to see if I needed anything.

The next thing I remember is the nurse making me drink water.  Do you know what happens to me if you have made me fast for 24 hours, have pumped my system with drugs that have put me in a stage 3 of deep sleep for nearly 7 hours and then make me drink water???  Yeah....we'll skip that part.  :)

The surgical center was totally empty.  I was the last patient.  It was just the nurse, Evan and me.  When I could finally open my eyes long enough to recognize how late it was and how long it was taking me to get with it, I asked if I could go home.  Apparently that's what they were waiting for, was for me to ask.  So somehow I got dressed.  I don't remember how.  That husband of mine sure comes in handy!  I think they put me in a wheelchair but I don't remember going from the hospital to the van.  I do remember that we couldn't seem to leave the hospital parking lot.  I opened my eyes to an orange cone blocking the exit again and again and again.  I asked Evan if I was just dreaming that part and he laughed and said all the exits were closed and it took him a while to find a way to leave.

The next thing I remember I was at home in bed thinking about that 2nd implant and feeling a deep sense of peace.  I felt like I needed to tell Evan about it.  He already explained that part in his post.  But I just knew.  I knew that everything had happened the way it was supposed to.  I knew that the doctor needed me as his patient and I knew I needed him.  And I knew that with all of the prayers and miracles that have allowed this all to happen, God was in that operating room.  And he could have allowed that second implant to happen but He didn't.  I'm not sure why.  But I was overwhelmingly happy for the one implant I did get.  After all this processing, my brain went quiet and I fell into the best sleep I have since had!

I've had lots of time to think about how things went down in that operating room.  I've grieved a little bit.  But that's just part of my journey, to allow myself to feel whatever it is I am feeling.  I have worked through it and continue to feel that this is all in God's hands.  It feels like another set of miracles is being reserved for a second implant at a later date.  I'll trust in that.

Sheesh, I am getting long winded.  I told you I have much to say.  I do!!
Day after surgery in my lovely head band :)

2 comments:

Etts a Beautiful Life said...

Thanks so much for sharing. I'm so happy you are at peace despite the less than perfect turn of events.

This Place is a Disaster! said...

I love you Sister! I miss you. I cried.