The night before surgery is, I’m discovering, pretty stressful. All my darkest fears, held at bay, keep trying to nudge to the front of my consciousness.
Will I be paralyzed? Is this surgeon as good as I’ve been told? What if I don’t wake up from the anesthesia?
All ridiculous, I know… but they’re circling around in there nonetheless. I keep kicking them back down where they belong, and eventually they’ll take the hint and stay gone. Because I know this surgeon is as good as they get. And I know that I won’t be paralyzed, because the location of my injury is too low for such an outcome. And I’ve been anesthetized before and woke up just fine!
So there! Begone foul thoughts!!
Ha. Easily done. Less simple, though, is the looming midnight deadline.
“General Instructions:
#1 — Do not eat or drink after midnight”
AAArgh!!!
It’s 9:02 as I write this… which means that I have only 2 hrs and 58 minutes to slake the coming thirst.
9:03. My lips are cracking, and my throat is raw. I’m so thirsty!
Seriously. Food is no problem. I’ve been eating like a bird for 3 weeks. But the mere thought of having no water at all brings visions of sand… hot, arid, windy…. I’m parched…. Must. Have. Water!!!
**sip**
9:05. I can feel the cool water sliding down through my throat.
Why do they do this, anyway? I’m sure there’s a great reason, but it’s absolute torture to contemplate. I just know I’ll be dying of thirst by the time I get there tomorrow.
On the good news side, thinking about how thirsty I’m going to be has taken my mind off all the dark scary thoughts that have been tormenting me. So I guess there’s something good to be said about the thirst-tease after all.
9:07. In 16 hrs, I’ll be in the operating room. In 17 hours I’ll be in recovery — just that quick. In 24 hrs, I’ll be hopefully sleeping soundly, without searing pain down my left leg, for the first time in weeks.
**sigh**
I’m dreading tomorrow. And I can’t wait.
The secret is to put water in your mouth, swirl it around, wet your lips and NOT swallow.
Get well quick.
Hi Pan! Yes, I finally figured that out around 11:00 this morning. Just swishing the water around helped a LOT!
I’m responding from my hospital bed — great place, this is. WiFi and everything (amazing). Hopefully I’ll go home tomorrow.
I hope you’ll feel rested enough soon so that you will be able to share with all those who’ve been following your blog over these past few years – and are concerned about your well-being, but possibly have been too nervous to leave a comment – what’s been happening since your surgery.
I heard a rumor that there is soon to be some sort of celebratory luau at your place out there in Katy – with dancing girls, gyrating hips and everything! Could that possibly be true? 🙂
The only dancing girls w/ gyrating hips will be my daughter and her friend(s?), and their celebration will probably have less to do with me than it will their volleyball triumph (hopefully they will cap last night by winning the overall district tonight!).
I am, however, more than happy to lend them my hideous corset, and I look forward to their decorative ministrations.
🙂
Why do they do this, anyway? I’m sure there’s a great reason, but it’s absolute torture to contemplate. I just know I’ll be dying of thirst by the time I get there tomorrow.
I think it has to do with going under a general – they want your stomach empty so that you don’t drown in your own vomit, should you decide to “react” to the anesthesia.
Glad to hear you made it through OK, btw.
~EdT.