I don't think I connect with people very well. I don't think anyone besides my husband can read when I am upset, hurt or lost. I have friends, I am pretty sure they don't realize when I am in need of them unless I outright state it, when I do they for the most post seem taken so far back by the statement no one responds. As if they are shocked I need anyone.
My surgery was terrifying. We arrived at the hospital around 8 am, we registered with a nice overworked woman and they took us back rather quickly. My husband helped me undress and gather my clothes, he sat with me the whole time, held my hand, watched tv with me, chatted about none sense. I have the most wonderful husband in the world, I cannot say that to anyone, including him and I don't even think he realizes all he does for me. I know they say no one should be your world but I would be a mess without him. He is my glue, my rock, my sun and stars (if anyone gets the reference).
Anyway, two very nice ladies came into the room and asked us a lot of questions, took my vitals, put the iv in the back of my hand since I am a very hard stick (I still have a painful bruise) and all of the things pre-op nurses are suppose to do. They were hilarious and I loved talking to them, they were a fabulous distraction as to the reason I was there. However it was never long until a new person came in, looked at my chat and apologized for my lose. Those words are a sobering reminder. My lose, our lose. You quickly forget that words can break your heart all over again.
The head of anesthesia came in, this was my second surgery with him but I am sure I will talk about that in another post. He was a polite gentlemen, upbeat and caring. He even suggested what I should have done medication wise. He was another fine distraction for the moment but he soon left the room too. I did have one tool with me, Boo. Who is boo you ask? Boo is a stuffed blue penguin with a hat and scarf on. I bought him for husband several years ago when he was sick, I have since stole him and sleep with him most nights now. I take boo with me every time they put me under so I have something with me.
They gave me something to make me happy and wheeled me away, I think it hurt leaving my husband the most at that point. They took me into the OR and injected me again I was out.
I woke up in recovery, I was confused and I was in pain and I cried. I didn't cry because of any of those things, I cried because of my lose. Because something was taken from me in so many ways and there wasn't a thing I could do to fix it. Because again I was in a situation I couldn't control. I just kept asking for my husband and eventually they took me to another recovery room where I could see him. He told me I was in recovery for over an hour and my surgery only took about 20 mins. I was in pain and very thirsty so I got some applesauce and ginger ale followed by the first of my pain medication. The doctor checked on me, she told hubby what to watch for. He spent most of his time talking to me, hoping to cover up the conversation our new nurse was having with my mother.
This was the first dose I was going to get of people thinking before speaking in front of us. They were talking about children, hubby had to deal with it in the waiting room and I felt horrible for him but now I felt slightly betrayed. Changing a persons thinking wouldn't change but here I was and it was something I was going to have to learn to deal with.
We would have to deal with people talking about pregnancies and babies and children, the very thing that was just taken away from us, and for all I know it was never going to happen again.
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