I awoke the morning of my surgery nervous with a lump in my throat and a runny nose to boot. I had packed a large backpack the night before with all the books, music, and bed-ridden entertainment I could stuff into it. I dumped it onto the seat of my dad's truck and off we went. As we drove there, I flashed back to all the feelings I had felt as a child on the way to the hospital. I was scared of what was to come as I pressed my head against the cool glass window as the city quickly whirred past us on the Tobin Bridge. After taking many deep breaths in effort to calm myself down, we arrived at Mass General Hospital for my biggest surgery yet.
When we got to the waiting room I tried to remind myself that I would be knocked out. That I wouldn't feel anything, wouldn't even know that it happened. I would just wake up and everything would be completely fine. But there were some immediate interactions with doctors and anesthesiologist that made me quite a bit on edge.
Here's how my initial conversation with my medical professionals went:
-Hello, Brittany? my anesthesiologist stated in question like form. How are you doing today?
-Yes, Hi. I'm okay. A little nervous, I replied.
-You'll be fine. You're here for a small bowel resection? (Again with the question statement.)
-Yes.
-Okay. It looks like we're going to have to give you an epidural today, because the surgeon is going to be cutting a vertical line from your belly button to your lower abdomen. It will be about a six inch incision.
-What? My doctor said it should only be two inches tops.
-No, from what I see here, you're going to have a larger scar and need more than local anesthesia.
-Uh. Okay.
-Oh, and after your surgery, you may be vomiting for a few days and at least experiencing a lot of nausea.
Great. My biggest fears come to life...
-Is it possible that I won't throw up?
-It's not likely. Your stomach and intestines are going to be healing themselves and it is a huge shock to your system. Your going to be learning how to digest all over again.
At this point, he left the room for a while (in order to get the epidural I assume) as I discreetly panicked to my mom about getting an epidural. She told me they are not so bad and not to worry. As she tried to talk me down, he returned with the epidural.
-Okay, now lean forward, he said as he guided me forward.
Just barely before he could get the needle into my spine, my surgeon showed up.
-What are you doing? he asked. The anesthesiologist told him that I was getting an epidural due to the extensive incision that was going to be made during surgery.
-She doesn't need that! he replied. She is only going to have a 3-4cm long incision at most.
-Oh. Okay, I'm sorry! he said.
At this point I was unamused. All I could wonder was, How the hell are these two men not on the same page about my surgery right now? How could two people have such drastically different ideas of what was about to happen to my body while I lay unconscious under the knife? Aren't you guys supposed to be on the same goddamn team!?
Needless to say, if I wasn't already terrified before, I was terrified now. Long story short, somehow, between the two of them, they knocked me out efficiently enough so that I didn't wake up during surgery--thank god.
I woke up dreamy-eyed, unaware that the surgery had even happened and drugged up to high heaven. They gave me a morphine drip with a delightful little button that allowed me to control my dosage. It certainly helped with the pain, but it caused my conversation skills to dwindle to that of a two-year-old. I also fell asleep periodically while people talked to me, but I figured they would understand and didn't feel too guilty. While I did feel mostly pain-free, I was extremely nauseous. They wouldn't let me have even a drop of water for a few days because even that could disrupt the healing process and cause a violent reaction. But eventually I had to try something. I had a very small sip of water and a bite of applesauce but that was all I could muster. And a few hours later, I felt like I could barely hold anything down. I called my nurse and said I was feeling really sick and realized that under my surgical dressings, my stomach had ballooned to twice its size. She said it was probably bile and that she could get my stomach pumped by putting an NG tube through my nose. I quickly suggested that we try attaching a tube with a bag to my G-Tube, because why not? It was there almost exclusively because I didn't want to put anything up my nose ever again. So the nurse brought in a connecting tube and an empty liter-sized bag and I attached myself to it. Within a second of opening the clamp, bright green bile rushed through the tube and into the empty bag. Quickly, the bag began to expand with this almost Kool-Aid green liquid until it was completely full and I needed to attach another one. The second bag only filled up a third of the way, but the color of that bile still haunts me. I couldn't eat or drink anything green for months because it brought back too many memories of what I now know is inside of me. It was a huge relief to release all that distended pressure from my belly, but damn if that wasn't gross.
To be continued...
When we got to the waiting room I tried to remind myself that I would be knocked out. That I wouldn't feel anything, wouldn't even know that it happened. I would just wake up and everything would be completely fine. But there were some immediate interactions with doctors and anesthesiologist that made me quite a bit on edge.
Here's how my initial conversation with my medical professionals went:
-Hello, Brittany? my anesthesiologist stated in question like form. How are you doing today?
-Yes, Hi. I'm okay. A little nervous, I replied.
-You'll be fine. You're here for a small bowel resection? (Again with the question statement.)
-Yes.
-Okay. It looks like we're going to have to give you an epidural today, because the surgeon is going to be cutting a vertical line from your belly button to your lower abdomen. It will be about a six inch incision.
-What? My doctor said it should only be two inches tops.
-No, from what I see here, you're going to have a larger scar and need more than local anesthesia.
-Uh. Okay.
-Oh, and after your surgery, you may be vomiting for a few days and at least experiencing a lot of nausea.
Great. My biggest fears come to life...
-Is it possible that I won't throw up?
-It's not likely. Your stomach and intestines are going to be healing themselves and it is a huge shock to your system. Your going to be learning how to digest all over again.
At this point, he left the room for a while (in order to get the epidural I assume) as I discreetly panicked to my mom about getting an epidural. She told me they are not so bad and not to worry. As she tried to talk me down, he returned with the epidural.
-Okay, now lean forward, he said as he guided me forward.
Just barely before he could get the needle into my spine, my surgeon showed up.
-What are you doing? he asked. The anesthesiologist told him that I was getting an epidural due to the extensive incision that was going to be made during surgery.
-She doesn't need that! he replied. She is only going to have a 3-4cm long incision at most.
-Oh. Okay, I'm sorry! he said.
At this point I was unamused. All I could wonder was, How the hell are these two men not on the same page about my surgery right now? How could two people have such drastically different ideas of what was about to happen to my body while I lay unconscious under the knife? Aren't you guys supposed to be on the same goddamn team!?
Needless to say, if I wasn't already terrified before, I was terrified now. Long story short, somehow, between the two of them, they knocked me out efficiently enough so that I didn't wake up during surgery--thank god.
I woke up dreamy-eyed, unaware that the surgery had even happened and drugged up to high heaven. They gave me a morphine drip with a delightful little button that allowed me to control my dosage. It certainly helped with the pain, but it caused my conversation skills to dwindle to that of a two-year-old. I also fell asleep periodically while people talked to me, but I figured they would understand and didn't feel too guilty. While I did feel mostly pain-free, I was extremely nauseous. They wouldn't let me have even a drop of water for a few days because even that could disrupt the healing process and cause a violent reaction. But eventually I had to try something. I had a very small sip of water and a bite of applesauce but that was all I could muster. And a few hours later, I felt like I could barely hold anything down. I called my nurse and said I was feeling really sick and realized that under my surgical dressings, my stomach had ballooned to twice its size. She said it was probably bile and that she could get my stomach pumped by putting an NG tube through my nose. I quickly suggested that we try attaching a tube with a bag to my G-Tube, because why not? It was there almost exclusively because I didn't want to put anything up my nose ever again. So the nurse brought in a connecting tube and an empty liter-sized bag and I attached myself to it. Within a second of opening the clamp, bright green bile rushed through the tube and into the empty bag. Quickly, the bag began to expand with this almost Kool-Aid green liquid until it was completely full and I needed to attach another one. The second bag only filled up a third of the way, but the color of that bile still haunts me. I couldn't eat or drink anything green for months because it brought back too many memories of what I now know is inside of me. It was a huge relief to release all that distended pressure from my belly, but damn if that wasn't gross.
To be continued...
