I left work yesterday and hugged my friends good-bye, knowing that I wouldn’t see them for almost a month. They have been so very supportive since the beginning. I’m not the kind of girl who lets her emotions hang out for everyone to see. Don’t get me wrong, when I’m mad, they can tell, but the rest of the time, I’m usually very even tempered. I’ve had a few moments with them over the past few months where I’ve let them see that I was upset or even scared. They sent me off with a get well gift, a very luxe pair of Vera Wang pajamas, some of my favorite tea, and a few pink-themed items. I’m touched that Pretty Girl hugged me, she’s not a hugger. They’re such great people and I’m fortunate to have them.

I have to be at the hospital at 5:30 am for the 7:30 am surgery and I cannot eat or drink anything after midnight. Mars and I decide to go out for a quick bite to eat. I don’t dare order a glass of wine as not to hear the “Your’re having surgery tomorrow, you shouldn’t be drinking” lecture. But, oh my goodness, I would love a glass of Pinot, correction, a bottle of Pinot. I settle for two slices of pizza and a diet coke. But truth be told, I’m not really that interested in the food or dinner conversation. He asks me how I am. The reality is that I’m not sure how I am. I’m not nervous. I’m not sad. I think I’m numb and anxious for this part to be over.

I wake up just before 4 am. Since I don’t know what I’ll be able to do physically for the next week or two, my intention is to fix my hair and pull it back into a perfect ponytail. This will at least make me feel normal and carry me through for a few days. Once I’m feeling better, hopefully I will be able to shower and my friend will come over and dry my hair for me. I have a feeling I should be worried about something else, but strangely, I’m only worried about how my hair looks and how it will hold up. I pack a bag of essentials for my overnight stay, my Kindle, phone, comfy clothes, lip balm, electric toothbrush, and cough drops, and Mars and I head off to the hospital. It’s cold and dark this morning, but it’s also calm. We don’t say much on the ride. What’s left to say?

When we get there, the receptionist checks me in, I sign a few forms, answer a few questions, and get my number that Mars will use to watch my progress on the hospital’s monitor. We don’t wait too long before the nurse calls me back. Weight, temperature, and a cup for the urine sample is next. The nurse escorts me to bed 12. It’s really funny, I was in bed 12 for the last surgery, hopefully, the results will be better this time. She tells me the name of the nurse who will be taking care of me today, the anesthesiologist,  and confirms who my surgeons will be. I need to change into my gown, compression stockings, and skid-proof socks. The cap is not going on until after I see Dr. Handsome and Perfect. I’m vulnerable enough already, I don’t need the cap ruining the perfect ponytail that I worked so very hard on this morning.

Nurse #1 come in to start the interrogation portion of the program and to set me up on all of the monitors, and hook up my IV. I didn’t have any issues with the IV when I had the surgery in July, so this should be  a breeze, right? As Nurse #1 is getting me settled, Doctor Brother shows up to hold my hand and keep Mars company in the waiting room. The first go at the IV doesn’t go as the nurse planned. It’s in, but really painful. I try to stay still. When she comes back, I ask  her to do something with it. She decides to change hands and that doesn’t go as planned, either. She gets Nurse #2 to assist. Many sticks later, the IV is in the left hand and it feels better, not great, but better nonetheless.

Dr. Impossible to See breezes in to check on me. He asks me how I’m doing and if I have any questions. I’m fine and I don’t so he is on his way.  Not long after, the anesthesiologist comes in. He’s a nice older  gentleman and he explains everything to me and sets me at ease. Most people are afraid of anesthesia, but not me. Anesthesia is good. I sign his consent paperwork, he checks the back of my throat to make sure he will be able to insert the tube, and I never see him again. Not that I can remember, anyway.

Nurse #1 comes in and tells me that Handsome and Perfect should be with me in a few minutes. And a few minutes later he sashays in. I introduce him to Jason and my brother, everyone shakes hands and he asks me if I have any questions. None that are appropriate, so I say no. Damn, he’s even perfect in his scrubs. He’s there to mark me. When he gets down to business, it feels like a bad college prank, except I’m sober and standing upright.  He’s drawing on me from my collarbone to my belly button all while my husband watches. At least Doctor Brother stepped out for these festivities. He’s intense while he’s working. I can’t help but watch him intently. And what’s that I smell? Cologne and peppermint. He smells as delicious as he looks. Once we’re done, I maneuver myself back in bed amid the IV lines and monitoring equipment. Handsome and Perfect tells me that we should be getting started soon.

Things start happening at a rapid pace. I meet yet another one of Dr. Impossible to See’s residents, the fourth, if my math is correct. He is with the nurse anesthetist and I know I’m going to start feeling like I’ve been doing shots at the bar. Kiss, kiss, hug, hug, and Mars and Doctor Brother are being escorted out. The first shot goes into my IV and I feel the burn from my hand to my elbow. Then the good stuff goes in. Before we get to the doors of the OR, I’m feeling it. In the OR, the mask goes on and that’s all she wrote.

The surgery lasts about four and an half hours but I don’t return back to the land of the conscience until about 1:30 pm. I haven’t really had surgery, they actually took me out to the parking lot and let  a few cars run over me. Yup, that’s what I feel like. Dr. 007 introduces himself and asks me how I’m feeling. I tell him that I am definitely not running any marathons anytime soon. He tells me that he wouldn’t recommend it, anyway. A wave of nausea hits me but I breathe my way through it. My head starts to clear and I’m feeling more aware of my surroundings. I’m hurting, but not unbearably so. It mostly hurts when I move, so I’m not going to do that.

I don’t spend a long time in post-op before I get moved to my room. While the nurses are wheeling me to my room, my husband and brother meet me in the hall. Doctor Brother tries to crack a joke but I’m really not in the mood for it. When I get into my room, the nurse asks me if I feel like I can move from the gurney to the bed. Negative, Rampart. She and another nurse roll me into place. No more moving, please. They set me up with a call button, water, and some very bland unsalted crackers. Then I start handing out orders. I need my Kindle, Chapstick, phone, and cough drops. Mars and Doctor Brother give me the low down that they got from my surgeons. They tell me all went well.

Not much later, Doctor Brother leaves to go back home to Philly. Mars sticks around long enough to make sure I’m ok. He heads home for a bite to eat and some rest. He will be back. Afternoon nurse comes in with a Percocet. It does just enough to take the edge off and I drift into a half here and half not state. A kindly delivery man knocks on my door with a flower delivery. My neighbors, how thoughtful.

While Mars is gone, Evening Nurse come in to introduce herself  and check how I am. She checks my IV and blood pressure. Then she checks my incisions. And there they are. My first opportunity to have a look at the damages. What is surprising is that I am not actually wrapped in bandages. I have Dermabond over the incisions and I’m not totally flat-chested. Handsome and Perfect put in tissue expanders. Dare I say, I really don’t look awful. And it makes me feel a little better. I also get my first chance to see the four, count ’em, four drains that I will be carrying around for the next month. These, I am not interested in right now.

By the time Mars comes back, Evening Nurse has cleared me to eat actual food and I will be dining on the hospital’s finest roast beef dinner, hold the salt. Am I destined for a diet of blandness??? For the love. Had I known I was going to cleared to eat that soon, I would have ordered out. I’m not convinced Mars would have been agreeable, but I would have tried.

Later in the evening, I get a roommate. She arrives with two people in tow and a case of Hepatitis…hospitals aren’t great places for privacy. Roomie and entourage don’t have alot of respect for the fact that I just had a major surgery. They’re not so quiet.

Mars stays until I finish my dinner. I ask him to take my flowers home so he doesn’t have to juggle me and them on the way home tomorrow. He tells me he will call me later to say good night and he leaves. I spend the rest of my evening alternating between sending my friends text messages, reading, and watching television. Mars calls me to say goodnight. Evening and Night Nurses come in to check on me. They tell me they’ll be back with my evening dose of Percoset, I ask for two. I want to get some sleep. I start feeling the effects of the meds during the news and just before midnight, I drift off to sleep.

Tomorrow is a new day…