If a nurse ever tells you, before pumping a drug into your IV, that it “might burn a little”, just know that what the nurse really means is, “this is going to burn so badly that you are going to wish you were dead rather than endure the pain from this, even if it only lasts two minutes.”
When the anesthesiologist says, in response to your inquiries about puking, “This is 21st century anesthetic. It’s made to be puke-free”, he is a lying dog! Unfortunately, I assumed that he was telling me the truth and didn’t keep a spit pan nearby until after I didn’t make it to the bathroom the first time. Thankfully, I was better prepared for puking episodes two and three.
While my plans of losing weight seemed foolproof with an inability to eat anything solid, my stomach decided that it needed more than a popsicle to coat it before I took painkillers every 4 hours…so ice-cream became my stomach’s BFF. Yeah…no weight loss happening here.
Grandmas…while perhaps scary drivers…make great recovery nurses. I just laid on the couch for two days while my grandma was at my beck and call. She even gave me a bell to ring, so I wouldn’t have to call for her. (Only once did she not hear the bell…thank goodness for cell phones).
When the doctor says recovery takes about two weeks, he’s dead serious.
And when he says days 4-7 are the worst, just be prepared. You think the pain on day 1 is bad…it’s nothing compared to day 4.
Swallowing hurts. Yawning hurts. Coughing hurts. Laughing hurts. Sleeping hurts. It just hurts.
Percocet is a good thing. A very, very, very good thing. I think anyone with whom I spoke would agree. Apparently, I’ve been saying some pretty funny things these days. I feel normal, of course.
Surgery that causes pain to your throat the week before one of the best food holidays of the year is not a great idea.
I also had great plans for what I would do during my recovery time (sleep, write essays, read books). None of it really happened. Sleep is interrupted by my need for painkillers (even last night). Writing essays? Ha. Reading…well, after I tapered off the drugs enough, I could manage reading a little. What did I really do? Watched lots and lots of reality t.v. I have now seen ever episode of JDMA ever recorded…twice. So good! I rarely watch t.v. due to time constraints, but I do love it! And am I embarrassed that I love me some Janice Dickinson? Absolutely not. (See…the painkillers are still talking).