Thursday was the big day. I felt anxious about it this time and to make matters worse, I didn’t have to be to Same Day Surgery until 10:30 a.m. That means I didn’t get to eat or drink anything since midnight the night before; that is just mean. I worked until 10:30 so I wouldn’t use up all my sick-time. I’m not sure that was a such a good idea. I was answering the phone and I was cranky. That many hours without food or water and anybody would be cranky. At one point, I put a person on hold and had someone else take the call for me. The person was being rude and I was afraid of saying something rude back. Good thing I have wonderful co-workers.
The surgery went as planned. I had a really heavy sedation with local anesthesia. They brought me out of sedation just a bit before they were finished suturing the incision closed and putting the bandage on. Now that was a weird experience. Also, they were joking and laughing and talking about what internet provider to use and were talking about Clear. I wanted to say something, but I was still had an oxygen mask on and couldn’t say anything yet. As soon as the anesthesiologist had the mask off, I practically shouted, “Don’t use Clear, it sucks!”
Recovery was a bit different this time. Last time I felt good, could sleep and wasn’t feeling any pain. This time I couldn’t sleep and I felt almost depressed. I didn’t feel pain unless I moved and it was a deep, horrible pain. The depressed feeling hasn’t really gone away. The pain is much worse this time. If my breast gets bumped or touched, it is an excruciating burning, slicing pain that causing instant nausea and incapacitates me for a bit. The Vicodin helps, but not enough, and it’s giving me insomnia this time because I’m taking more. Between the pain and taking more Vicodin, I’m crabby and short-tempered. Yup, people just love me. I feel bad for the girls because I’m not supposed to pick them up and when someone accidently bumps me, my immediate reaction is to fall down and start screaming in pain. Take it easy, I gently put the child down, step back a bit, clench my teeth (partly to hold back the nausea), squeeze my eyes shut to hold back the tears, mouth a horrible swear word…then take a deep breath and wish I was in a coma.
The doctor said it would be more painful this time and he wasn’t kidding!
