For several weeks my routine consisted of nursing visits and appointments at the wound care center. Everything was pretty much status quo, until one day when I went to the wound care center and my surgeon probed inside my wound. He told me, that we would have to go back to the operating room, again. At that point I listened to what he was saying but I guess I blocked it out because shortly after I left I couldn’t really remember what he had said. I can only assume that, that happened because the news was so unexpected.
My surgeon’s office got in touch with me shortly after I got home and we were able to schedule the surgery for two weeks later. I was pleased that it was able to be so soon, but that was short lived. A couple of days prior to the day it was supposed to be, the office called me back and explained that we needed to reschedule due to a conflict in my surgeon’s schedule. I wasn’t exactly thrilled that it needed to be postponed but was relieved to know that we would be able to reschedule it for just five days after the original date.
While I was waiting for the surgery date to arrive I couldn’t help but hear the news about impending Hurricane Sandy. I was hopeful that all of the reports were wrong and that everyone was overreacting and that nothing would need to be rescheduled for a second time. Sadly, I got a phone call from the hospital the day before and was told that the hospital was rescheduling everything and so my surgeon’s office would be in touch with me to get it done as soon as we possibly could.
Finally, the day of the surgery arrived, without any further rescheduling. My boyfriend went with me, as per usual. Prior to the surgery, I met with my surgeon and the anesthesiologist and we determined that for this procedure I would undergo general anesthesia. I was not super excited about this prospect but when my surgeon explained that the time previously, I was so aware and in pain that he felt it limited what he could do. Once I heard that I differed to his judgment. The last thing I remember before waking up in the recovery room was getting a kiss from my boyfriend and getting a bolus of something that would “take the edge off” and relax me a bit before I got in the operating room.
When I woke up in the recovery room I verified with the recovery nurse that I did have general anesthesia, she told me that yes I had, although I was pretty sure I had based on the tell tale sore throat and the incredible grogginess that I was experiencing. Shortly after the regular recovery room I was moved to where I would ordinarily get something to eat and then would be discharged. However, things were a little bit different this time around.
When I saw my boyfriend and got a sandwich, my nurse asked me if I was in pain and I indicated that yes I was. This was in and of itself, strange to me because I have very rarely, if ever, experienced post-op pain due to this particular problem. My nurse then gave me a pain pill that had been ordered, just in case. I ate my sandwich and hung out with my boyfriend and waited for the pain pill to take effect. When the nurse came back to see how I was feeling after the pain medication I told her that the pain was still the same as before I had taken the pill. The nurse told me that she was going to call my surgeon to get further orders. She appeared shortly thereafter, and told me that he had said to give me the second pain pill but that I should not go home until he had at least come to speak with me. I took the pill and awaited his arrival. While I was waiting, I started to hear people say that it had begun to snow. I was originally just amused by the snow and did not think much of it. Until, I realized that it could cause difficulty when we tried to go home.
When my surgeon came back, he asked me how I was feeling and I explained that I still had the same pain as I did before I had even had the first pain pill. My surgeon then informed me that it was snowing and the roads were somewhat slippery and asked what I wanted to do. At that point, I asked him what he felt I should do as far as going home was concerned. He explained that with the combination of the weather and the fact that I still had some discomfort he would recommend staying overnight at the hospital. My surgeon also said not to worry about my boyfriend because the hospital would most likely be able to provide a cot so he could stay with me. I agreed that staying over was probably the best thing and my surgeon said he would make the phone call to get me a room. Before, he left he told me that he himself was not going to be at the hospital the next day but that I could take my time and not feel rushed to leave first thing in the morning. He also verified that I knew how to get in touch with him if in fact I should need him the next day.
After, I got settled in the hospital room it dawned on me that I needed to make at least one phone call. I had previously agreed to call my visiting nurse after the surgery so that she would know that it went okay and also to get a general idea of what the upcoming wound care orders were going to be. I explained to her that the surgery was finished but that I was going to stay overnight due to some pain, and also due to the slippery roads. My nurse told me to feel better and to keep her posted as to what was going on. She also urged me to call my parents to tell them that I would not be coming home that day.
I am generally a private person and tend to only tell one or two people about any upcoming surgeries that may be necessary. My parents, in fact only know about half of the surgeries that have been necessary on my wound. Of those, I would say that they have been told about half of only after they had already been done. This may sound weird or cruel, some may say that they are my parents and they have the right to know what is going on, while I agree with that in theory, in practice my opinion is different. I know my family and they do not handle this sort of thing very well and tend to panic, which makes me nuts. I feel that it is in everyone’s best interest, including my own to keep certain things from my parents. That being said, I did agree with my nurse’s opinion that they should know I wasn’t going to be home that night.
I took a deep breath and picked up the phone to call my parents to tell them that I would see them at some point the next day. They may finally be realizing that I am an adult, because the reaction was not anything like I expected it to be. Basically, they just questioned if I needed a ride home the following day or if I needed them at the hospital right then. Being that aside from being in a little bit of pain and the fact that my boyfriend was with me I assured them that I was totally fine and was really just calling so that they didn’t think I was hurt traveling home in a snowstorm.
I spent the next several hours catching up on some sleep, while periodically asking for more pain medication. I have learned through many years of experience, to ask for pain medicine before the pain really starts to hurt, so I tried to take it on somewhat of a schedule so that my pain level never really got difficult to control. By late the next afternoon, I felt like my pain was at a reasonable level and that I would be fine to go home with just a prescription from my surgeon.
