Presumably, if you are this far, you have already become the Human Pin Cushion, met a new Doctor, taken a ride on the HRT and possibly even landed in the Emergency Room. Now, it's time for surgery.
Let's take the standard approach, not involving the ER. From the moment you found out surgery was required to the big day is a period of time that could span a day to a month. When it arrives, if you're a 'Beginner', your heart and stomach will feel as though they've switched places and you'll say a little prayer that they don't stay that way because, frankly, it's uncomfortable and a little confusing. This will pass.
As you enter the hospital, there's always a very nice person seated at the Lobby desk and he or she has approximately 37 different pads of paper used as the basis of directions you will need to reach your destination. (MENTAL FOOTNOTE - Just to see if they actually use all of those pads, at some point when I have nothing better to do, I'm going in there every day for a month to ask for different parts of the hospital.)
Using the directions, you will make your way to one of a few different places specific to Surgery. As in my case, someone will approach you with a very large binder with your name on it. I'm not kidding, mine is a four inch binder. When the nurse and I were talking, she heaved it up on to the counter.
"Oh, are you studying?" I asked. "I can wait if you need a minute."
"No, no" she said, laughing. "This is yours"
"I'M STUDYING?!?!?" I'm quite sure, at this point, my eyes were starting to inflate and I hadn't even asked for Happy Juice yet. (We'll get back to Happy Juice in a minute).
"No" she answered shortly. "These are your records and everything we need to know for your surgery today."
I wanted to ask if there were step by step instructions but figured I was already pushing my luck so I just said "Holy Crap! How much does that thing weigh?!"
My husband laughed but she pretended not to hear as she led me to a room where I would, presumably, wait for them to 'come and get me'.
This next part only lasts about three seconds but is important enough to mention. The nurse will look you up and down, without shame, tell you what article(s) of clothing to remove and how to wear the "gown". They don't call them "Johnnies" anymore. Doesn't "gown" make it sound like you should be headed either to a Prom or a Spa? Trust me, nothing could be further from the truth except you do get a nice nap. Anyway, the gowns have about five thousand snaps on them and it's NEVER initially apparent exactly how they match up.
Here, it is important for me to explain to you that I am a COMPLETE sissy when it comes to needles and IV needles are THE worst. Once within the confines of the hospital, I am not at all reluctant to tell anyone that little tidbit of information. Doctors, Nurses, Janitors, other patients, the cafeteria staff - nobody escapes. My theory is, if they are in the hospital, regardless of what clothes they're wearing, they are in close enough proximity to needles that I'm not taking any chances. Here's what I say:
"Okay, I have to tell you something. I'm a complete sissy when it comes to needles. It's an unreasonable fear, I know, but there it is". My experience shows that this statement, in conjunction with the whites of my eyes bulging from their sockets, is a pretty effective means of getting the message across.
If you are a sissy like me, the people you WANT to place your IV are wearing lab coats and carrying what I refer to as a 'Tacklebox' full of tubes, labels, rubber bands, bandages and cleverly disguised needles of all shapes and sizes. These folks, 99.9% of the time are incredible at what they do. Once finished with the task at hand, what I want to do is bow down and kiss their feet but I usually just tell them how good they are at their job. First, who doesn't want to hear that? Second, a little brown nosing to the person with the needles is NEVER a bad thing as you never know when your paths will cross again. The people you DON'T want to place your IV include everyone else. A FACT YOU MAY NOT KNOW: Members of the "IV Team" can and will numb the site prior to placing an IV. All you have to do is ask. The tiny pinch of novacaine is well worth it, believe me.
Once the IV is placed, you are home free. Inevitably, the next words out of my mouth are "When do I get the Happy Juice?". I will continue to ask this question until it is administered. Happy Juice is something (no idea what they use and I could care less) they administer via the IV and it dopes you up but doesn't knock you out. This is the point where your stomach and heart realign themselves and all seems right with the world.
It's pretty important to have someone you trust with you at this point because, you may still be awake but you are far from coherent. Now, Doctors, Nurses and, particularly, Anesthesiologists are fully aware of this yet they will continue to ask questions. Usually, it's limited to Name and Date of Birth which I almost always get right at this point. Sometimes, though, you get someone with a quirky sense of humor who will throw a curve ball at you like "And what are you having done today?" I can only hope that, one of these times, I'll have the presence of mind to say something like "My nails" or "A nose job" in response. That would be what I consider the 'double edged sword' of the Happy Juice. It leaves no room for sarcasm.
Okay, you're checked in, dressed appropriately, doped up, and have told everyone within a 1/4 mile radius what your name and date of birth are (so much for HIPAA). They place a paper hat that resembles a shower cap on your head and off you go down the hall to Surgery.
The things I always recall from the Operating Room are this: It feels like a small room and I worry that they'll all trip over one another. It's bright - do I get to wear sunglasses? It's cold - someone needs to rethink these gowns. They shift you from your bed up on to the table (this is why they leave you hovering on the edge of consciousness to this point...so you can "help"). They put sticky things all over you for monitoring purposes (I've found some of these, still adhered, in the shower a day or two later) and then they put a very stinky mask over your mouth and nose and ask you to breath deeply.
That's it. That's all she wrote. Next thing you know, regardless of how long the procedure takes, you're in your room and (if you're as lucky as me), just before passing out again, you have just enough time to notice that your husband is right there, making sure you can see him and he's smiling at you.
All is right with the world.
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