Long time visitor, first time patient

So I had a laparoscopic myomectomy the other day. After a couple years of suffering, it was determined by my doctor that the best idea would be to remove an orange-sized fibroid from the lining of my uterus – an “intramural” fibroid.

I was told it would be minimally invasive and that recovery could mean out of the office for two weeks, which did not sound minimal. I was also told I’d go under general anesthesia. I would go all the way under: intubated and on a respirator. This of course was the primary source of my anxiety in the lead up to the operation. I did watch every single episode of ER.

On the day of, in the hospital room with Hayden and my mom (how very very odd for both me and my mom to have the tables turned), I grilled the anesthesiologist, Dr. Chen.

“So, I’m going all the way under?” “I’ve never had anesthesia before. I’m worried about waking up.” “How do you know I’ll wake up?” “What are the risks? “Yes, I understand I could get xy and z, but what are the risks that I won’t wake up?”

She stared at me blankly and then perhaps with a tinge of annoyance. They gave me a lovely shot of some sort of “pam” drug. I instantly recognized it as a drug related to my beloved Xanax. I said, “great, yes, let’s take the edge off. Oh, this is like Xanax.”

“How do you know what Xanax is?” she asked.

I said, because I used it sometimes when I fly in crazy places like Sudan. I don’t remember leaving the room, but apparently I made Hayden kiss me twice and I said to Hayden and my mom, “later bitches.” I do remember the operating room. The last thing I remember saying to the anesthesiologist was, “What do you mean, you don’t know who Bono is?!”

I woke up in serious discomfort and very very VERY grumpy. I would snap at the nurse and then apologize and then snap again. All while feeling super drugged. Hayden and my mom were giving me some details – apparently everything went well, no need for a blood transfusion, there are pictures (wtf?!), I can go home…

I can go home? That seemed odd to me as I fought the nurse for my clothes.  Why was it taking her so long to help me get dressed and why the hell did she put ice and a straw in my cup of water? Just give me the damned water woman! Upon hindsight, that might have been a bit brusque.

The recovery has been more or less ok. I’m taking it pretty slow. Other than bloating and some minor twinges of pain, I don’t seem to have any complications one week out. My four “keyhole” incisions are looking good. God, I hope they don’t scar too badly.

My surgeon, Dr. Robinson, will be pleased that my Burma trip has been postponed indefinitely. I was planning to head out next Wednesday, which admittedly now would seem a bit premature. He did tell me he currently has friends traveling there. I told him they could check in on me.

He looked at me like I was batshit cray cray.