[Gatesedge] It's Alive

[Darlene Vandever]

Argh.

Bleah.

Ow.

Phooey.

I'm home.

Ow.

Updating......I was in great form and spirits up to and through the surgery.
At one point, one nurse asked me if I was already on the
"I-don't-care-about-nuttin'" drugs. I told her I really was this goofey most
of the time.

We got there in plenty of time (up at 3 am. Out of the house by 4 am.
Checked in at 5:45 am). We paid my "up front" money (which wasn't nearly as
much as I feared, just $100) about 5 minutes later and by 6:15 I was called
to go into pre-op.

There, my clothes, personal effects etc. were confiscated (JJ) and I was
placed into the oh-so-fashionable gown with the open backside.  They came
and hooked my left hand to an IV of saline and I crawled into the world's
most comfortable bed. No lie. It was a cross between a tempurpedic/sleep
number bed but better than both. Had to cost $40 thousand as it was
adjustable, dimmed the lights, called the nurse, turned on and off the TV
and radio and everytime I shifted, readjusted the mattress so that the
pressure points were not effected.

Then I slept as I could between needing to get up and pee. So did Mark.
About 8 ish, they came and put me in a wheelchair and took me across the sky
bridge to the Towers at St. Luke's. There, I had what was called a "wire
localization". An amazing man named Dr. Nuygen (pronounced "win"...go
figure) stuck a fine wire in my boob so the point was just touching the spot
where the cancer was. He did this FREE HAND (no computer here) and all I
felt was a quick sting like a small shot. All he did was look at my xrays
and then next thing he had the wire in and it was in perfectly. Too cool.

They wheeled me back and I slept some more. About 1 pm, they came and got
me. I was totally amazed because I was scheduled for 3 pm. Great! I was
thinking....I get to go home early!!! (famous last words).

In the staging area, Mark and I continued to joke and giggle like idiots
over whatever strange things struck us as funny. Dr. Baker finally came in
and checked me out. It was then I learned that my cancer was classified as
"Stage Zero". I didn't even know there *was* a "Stage Zero". Dr. Baker said
that most people don't know of it because it was very rare to catch a
carcinoma as early as they had mine. Most are caught at "Stage 1" or higher.
(The lady in pre-op in the bed next to mine said her cancer had been caught
at Stage 4 because she was under 35 and hadn't yet even had her 1st
mammogram. It had metatastized and she had been fighting it for a year
already.)

Then the fun really got started.

I was totally concious when they got me in the operating room. I commented
on that because every other surgery I've had, they had given me some of the
"I-don't-care-about-nuttin" drugs and was pretty out of it by the time I got
in there. The anethesiologist said I was getting that right now, as he stuck
a needle into my IV line. About then, my surgical nurse leaned over me and
said "I'm here" because I had been asking about her. I told her that I
didn't feel the drug yet. The "knock out doc" said I would feel it in just a
few more seconds and then I would be blabbing all my secrets. I joked that
they needed to take notes since I knew the back way into Fort Knox. He said
"Great! I need some more money!".........

The next thing I knew, I was fighting for air to breathe. I was being held
down by at least two pairs of hands and a voice was saying, "Slow, deep
breaths. Slow, deep breaths." I couldn't breathe and couldn't tell them I
couldn't breathe. It was really awful. I had just enough of the "I don't
care about nuttin" drugs in me left that I didn't panic (much) but I really
*could not catch my breath*! I felt like I had been punched in the stomach
and had all the wind knocked out of me.

I was in the recovery room at about the time I had been scheduled for
surgery....approximately 3 PM.

Very, very slowly the feeling of suffocation went away. I still have a
little of that feeling even now as I type this. My throat was so very dry
and I felt (still do) totally drained and unable to really have the strength
to do anything. They kept wanting to put the oxygen mask over my face and
that just made me feel more out of breath. We finally settled on letting it
sit on my chin and blow up over my face. When the recovery nurse would walk
away to tend to another patient (there was a lady coming out of surgery for
a hysterectomy next to me...poor thing seemed to really be hurting) I would
take the opportunity to turn my face away from the mask and just breathe the
air. It didn't hurt like the oxygen did.

After a long time, they moved me from recovery to the post op area and Mark
could rejoin me. It was there that the nausea hit. I tossed the acid and
bile twice and then the anti-nausea drugs started to work. Then I slept some
more. The post op nurses let me rest as long as they could but they finally
had to ask if I wanted to try to leave or to be admitted as they were having
to go off shift themselves and except for emergency surgery, day patients
needed to either go home or be admitted.

I chose to go home.

I slowly dressed with Mark's help and he left to get the truck.

The last thing we did was use suppository of phenegren to try to control the
nausea for the trip home. Fun.

A sweet nurse moved me in a wheelchair very gently and slowly (I was still
very dizzy, groggy and nauseated.) We found Mark out front and I passed out
for most of the ride home.

I was pretty wobbly getting into the house but made it with Mark's help. He
stayed the morning with me and went into work late.

Now I'm still sleepy and very, very sore. Vicodan is my friend today and
probably will be also tomorrow. I think a lot of my abdominal soreness was
from fighting the nurses in recovery as I was trying to sit and they were
trying to push me back down. Or maybe it was tossing my cookies in post op.
Either way, my stomach and arms are very tired and sore as is my throat. It
feels like the endotrachial tube went all the way down into my lungs.  I
know they are built to only get past the vocal cords but it sure feels sore
all the way down and in.

Ok. The last dose of Vicodan I took before sitting down here and typing this
out is starting to kick my butt so I think I'm going to finish my ice cream
and go back to bed.

I'll write some more later.
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