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Let me tell you about my recovery so farzzzz……….

Thats pretty much it,  the last three days have been wake up, move from bed to couch, lay there until the pain gets bad, take a pain pill, and go back to bed.  Repeat. I generally sleep for an hour, and then I’m up struggling with the pain for a little over a hour before I break down and take another oxycodone.  I know it sounds rough but this has been the best part by far.

My surgery was scheduled for early Monday to take care of the splenic arterial aneurism problem I was having.  I was totally unsure what to expect besides having a catheter up the femoral artery, and coils placed in my aneurism to block off the blood flow to Alizablob.  Since I have had none of this happen to me before it means I was worried, but not too worried because didn’t know totally what was going on. The docs made it sound like I would be up and playing soccer again before the night was out, and since I don’t play soccer I figured I would be extra awesome that night. Wow I was wrong.

The first thing they did was insert my IV.  I know no one is suppose to enjoy getting an IV, but i especially hate them.  Curtis has to stand on one side of me and distract me with finger puppets while the nurse gets to work or I end up twitching, and when someone is trying to shove a needle in your vein, twitching is not good. Then I was plopped onto a table wearing nothing but a thin cotton gown and hooked up to numerous monitors.  That’s when Lizzie was sent to sleepy land.

The creepy part was I woke up on the procedure table.  Freaky hu?  It was really not that bad.  I’m very Velma-esk in the fact that I cannot see anything without my glasses.  So when i woke up I was just really confused that there was some strange orange monitor floating above my head.  My arms were pinned so I gently raised my head to tap the object, and then just looked around until I could see someone.  Im not sure why that was so important to me, but after that I felt better and didn’t have any problems slipping back down to sleep.  They did tell me that the kind of anesthesia they were going to use was the kind that they would be able to wake me up, and ask me questions.  I just didn’t expect to wake up myself.  

All I remember after that was pain.  The pain was so bad I just cried, and cried.  I was suppose to go home after the operation, but once that started all hopes of leaving flew out the window.  The nurse finally got me drugged up, and it was decided I would try eating something.  Curtis said this was the fun part for him.  He said I would ask him a question, and then fall asleep, just to wake up and ask him the same question again.  I asked him where he went to lunch four times.  Maybe I was just being sneaky and wanted to make sure his answers matched up.  Considering I didn’t remember the answer the next day we know that’s just crap.

The dinner the hospital brought me was a salad, roll, juice and something under a shield.  I refused to touch what was under the shield, and instead concentrated on my roll and salad.  By concentrated I mean Curtis finally took the roll away from me because I kept falling asleep with it in my mouth.  There is nothing sexier than your wife falling asleep with food hanging out of her mouth.  Finally we gave up on the food, which was good, because I proceeded to throw up all night.  I felt bad for the woman I was sharing a room with but my projectile vomiting never disturbed her.   

By the next morning I was determined to go home.  I wanted the IV out, and I was going to walk home if they took their eyes off me for a moment.  Thankfully Curtis showed up to take me home.  I knew there was going to be pain, but frankly I was a little unprepared for how much there is.  I guess all I can do is lay around on the couch under the expert care of the cats, and take it easy.