Surgery Gone Good

So today was my long-awaited surgery. After months and months of erratic and sometimes heavy bleeding, I went in yesterday for a D&C and endometrial abalation. My ob/gyn uses the laser form of the ablation, basically burning the lining of the uterus using a high-density light beam. Ablation destroys a thin layer of the lining of the uterus, therefore stopping all menstrual flow in many women. From the friends, co-workers and acquaintances I've chatted with about the procedure, I was shocked to find out many have had it done and with much success. And of course it is much less invasive than a hysterectomy.

My parents — the angels that they are — picked me up at 5:30AM to be at the hospital by 6:15 for 8:15 surgery. I said goodbye to Harleigh (working that day at her summer camp job) who had had a rough and tearful evening the night before, worried about the surgery and all its possible outcomes. I've always felt very faithful and somewhat calm about it, but it broke my heart to see her so concerned and afraid.

Pre-op was almost like Mommy's spa day with its pampering. The nurses, doctors, and all the staff were so nice and upbeat. The kind of people I prefer to be around at 6:15AM given that I'm more of a morning person. Into the hospital gown —  that's been washed so many times it's like putting on a boyfriend's worn t-shirt — with booties on my feet, and then under a pile of warmed blankets, in a private room, propped up in a bed with lots of pillows . . . ready for a facial and massage.  I spent the next hour and a half reading New Moon and listening to patients and staff in the neighboring rooms talk about their procedures, medical histories. A relaxing prelude to surgery.

My parents came in to love up on me before I was rolled off into the OR, I caught Harleigh on her cell phone to chat, and then the "margarita" went into my IV to lull me into sedation (which, by the way, never really kicked in like I was expecting, but since I wasn't freaking out, it didn't matter).

Once in the OR, the mask went on to pump in the general anesthesia . . like the nectar of the gods. So amazing that you go to sleep and don't feel a thing.

When I woke in post-op, aside from having a sore throat from the breathing tube, I felt no pain at all. As if nothing had happened in my nether region. And the anesthesia had no trace other than making me feel super sleepy.

Then into my check-out room where I was moved from the gurney into a recliner, drinking a diet coke to get me to weewee before leaving, still no pain! The nurse sat down with me, reciting the list of what to expect once home, that included a discharge like "soot." Well, considering that they did burn the wall of my uterus, I suppose that there has to be some residual "stuff."  

Now in my family, ripe with a dry and wicked sense of humor, soot coming out of my whowho is the kind of fodder we relish:

Dad in the car coming home: I smell something burning.

Me: (whose anesthesia-muddied head did not render her immune to humor): It's my uterus!

Harleigh: Call 911!

Me: My uterus is on fire!

Harleigh: Mom, the doctor's office is on the phone. They have the name and number of a good chimney sweep!

Ahhhh. Nothing like laughter to make an icky situation more palpable. I hope this pain-free state continues, although I'm taking it easy at the risk of doing too much and causing things to happen up there that don't necessarily need to be jostled about.

Once home I did want to go outside and pick up Gideon's poop. I have this "thing" for a poop-free yard. If I know there's a pile out there, I become obsessed with cleaning it up. Thanks, Mom, for arming yourself with a grocery bag and taking care of it for me. (I think you know me well enough to know that once you left, I'd be doing it come hell or high water.)

What a great experience as hospitals and surgeries go. I'm amazed at how many people attended to me and with such organization and care. This is the band of people who saw to all my needs:

1 admissions check-in gal

1 surgery check-in nurse who then took me to pre-op

1 nurse for IV and stats

1 anesthesiologist

1 surgeon

1 nurse for last-minute stats and to administer "margarita"

2 OR nurses to prep me for going to OR (who were in the OR as well)

1 assistant to the surgeon

1 post-op nurse

1 nurse and 1 nurse's aide for taking me to check-out

1 check-out nurse 

1 nurse's aide to roll me out to the car

I slept the rest of the day in my comfy bed, still feeling rubbery in the joints and with that feeling of almost not wanting to go to sleep because the state you're in — so tired and comfortable and with no cares or TO DO lists gnawing at you — is worth enjoying for as long as you can, as it doesn't come along all that much.

Harleigh brought me dinner in bed, a killer casserole and brownies that my Mom dropped off. And I've been guzzling water at a sprinter's pace.

Lots of well wishes from office friends . . . so appreciated! (Courtney, my mom thought getting your check-in calls was the sweetest!). 

Up this morning, still no pain (was anything really done down there?!?!?), but still feeling the aftermath of anesthesia. Finished New Moon yesterday between naps and I can't wait for Eclipse!!!!!!!!  Love to everyone who kept me in their thoughts and prayers. This certainly wasn't major surgery of any kind, but in our society, riddled with 60-Minute episodes and 48 Hours, we've seen our share of the simplest of things gone bad, and I suppose that can leave a pall and dread over any impending procedure. Dawn's alive and couldn't be happier!