Random post... but there's only so many times you can refresh Facebook and Pinterest while laid up in bed.
Let me start off with I've been put under general anesthesia 4 times, including this last time for my appendectomy. When I woke up from my surgery the very first thing I remember thinking was "oh my gosh, my mouth is dry" and the second thing was "why can't I close my mouth?!" I preceded for what felt like forever trying to get my mouth to close and got very frustrated in the process. Once I finally got my mouth closed all I could think about was getting something to drink- ASAP! I don't ever remember coming out of anesthesia with such dry mouth. All I wanted was some ice chips or water, and as soon as I could get the words out to the recovery nurse I did- it was very difficult with such dryness. She looked at me and said "you can't have anything yet, we have to make sure you won't get sick from the anesthesia." WHAT?!
I suppose I fell back asleep, because I woke up asking for water again. She finally got me the smallest, least full cup of ice chips I've ever seen. I scarfed down the ice chips as fast as I could without making the nurse mad :) Of course, soon after I felt nauseous- shame, shame, shame (on me, of course). I tried to hide it and went back to sleep. When I woke up, the nurse was telling me that my pulse ox was too low when I slept, so they put that horrendous nose oxygen thing on me, I finally admitted my nausea and she whisked away with my ice chips, and came back with zofran.
By the time Paul got back to me, I was really annoyed. I had all these tubes hooked up to me, I had calf massagers (not as nice as it sounds) on my legs, I hurt, and I was still thirsty. I preceded to call my mom at almost 1am and explain how cranky I was. I finally got some water and some more ice chips. When the nurse wasn't around, I would quickly take off the oxygen thing, and finally talked the nurse into taking the calf things off until they moved me to my room. Things were looking up.
Unfortunately, they didn't have a room ready for me and 20-30 minutes turned into 2 hours of waiting in recovery. When they finally got me to my room, it wasn't the private room I had specified, but there was no one else in the room. They moved me into the bed into the room, only to find out it was broken. They preceded to make me stand (only hours after an abdominal surgery) in the middle of the room (couldn't reach the other bed due to the IV placement) while they tried to fix it. When they couldn't fix it they finally moved me to the other bed. I still had the annoying calf compressor thing on, but they forgot to put my oxygen back on me- YAY!
It was 2am and I was exhausted from not sleeping the night before, my little brother finally left and Paul started to get comfortable. At 3am, the aide did my vitals and I requested pain meds, since I was really starting to hurt. It took an hour and a half of requesting it (!!!), but finally at 4:30 I got the meds I asked for and was able to go to sleep. Sadly, at 5 my vitals were checked, my blood was taken at 5:15, and my IV bag round out and needed to be replaced at 5:30. I finally got to sleep after that, and luckily, my day nurse let me sleep and delayed the start of my antibiotic when she saw I was sleeping at 6:30- I made it until 7:30 before I woke up myself and the day started. I napped throughout the day, but was so happy when I was finally released at 4:30pm- 24 hours after my initial doctor's appointment....
I must say, even though I was cranky, I really wasn't impressed with my service at the hospital in Tulsa I was transferred to- I definitely prefer their sister hospital in Owasso- they took great care of Paul when he had pneumonia. Glad I got that out :)