Wow!!! What a ride…WOW!!! What a RIDE!!!
I was asked if I knew where I was. I replied that I had been taken to the machine where you were to lay absolutely quiet and not breath if at all possible ~ there was no memory of what the machine was actually called. I suppose they thought I was being an “educated donkey” as there were some chuckles. I was frightened as I really couldn’t recall what the thing was called. (hospital machines for $800 Alex.) I finally had a memory kick in that there wasn’t supposed to be any metal around and I literally panicked ~ about 15 years ago I had stomach surgery and there were a LOT of staples in there.
I was convinced ~ I’d seen enough TV and movies to know ~ that all that metal was going to rip out of my body and attach itself to the revolving magnets. I was reassured that there would be no such incident as they weren’t going down that low . . . and unless the staples were in my head, I was OK. I made it through ~ without breathing I might add ~ and then fade out/fade in. I was being taken to surgery…long hallways…strong smells…funny looking lights. There was a sudden stop (must have been a student driver with a learning permit)
There was a realization that I had not signed even more forms. This meant that somewhere in this hospital maze I was trying to listen to what I had to sign, still didn’t have my glasses and still couldn’t see what I was signing. Of course, in a trauma unit operating rooms are at a premium and tightly scheduled. This was turning into a delay that needed to be hurried up…STAT! And we were off again to the races. My mind (what was left of it) hauled out a memory of a terribly frightening Discover Health show about people who wake up during operations ~ they feel everything including the pain, but because of the paralyzing drug given to them, they are unable to tell anyone they are awake. Now that certainly added to my comfort level and my already high hysteria level. Not eating or sleeping for a number of weeks can do strange things to you!
We arrived in the operating room, and I was convinced it was a broom closet – at least what I could see. The room was very dark except for the lights on the table where I was being placed. There were two “wings” for my arms that were raised up – which made getting me onto the table quite interesting. And then ~ get this ~ the anesthesiologist made me very angry by lying to me. I had been lying to myself and others for weeks – had just committed suicide and I’m angry?? All he did was tell me that the mask he was putting on my face was going to help me breathe…and right before I finally was allowed/forced to pass out, I’m angry? (right mind behavior, correct?)
When I finally awoke, I had no memory of the recovery room and how I ended up in the hospital bed. A nurse was standing by as I tried to focus my mind and eyes. I felt the bandages on my head and neck. As they were BOTH vertical bandages, I was a little confused ~ the one on my head was OK – that was a vertical gash. The ones on my neck confused me as the slits I had made were horizontal and this was about a 10 inch VERTICAL bandage/gash. It was explained to me the operation I had undergone was by a neurosurgeon who literally opened my neck from the jawline down and did exploratory surgery to see if I had bruised, nicked or damaged anything.
—more of the story tomorrow
Thanks to several of you for the encouraging emails……
I’ve read all 4 parts – and want very much to know how the rest of what you’ve experienced unfolds.Extraordinary and at the same time horrific series of posts, these – thanks for having the courage to share them.