14. Surgery

We arrived at the hospital at 5:15am on November 4^th, apprehensive and ready to get it over with. I reminded every doctor, nurse, anesthesiologist, lab technician, and anyone who walked into my pre-op room that they were, under no circumstances, to remove my ovaries (ok, fine, if you see they are riddled with cancer, please remove them, but just know I’m going to be pissed when I wake up). They all assured me the ovaries would stay put as long as they looked healthy. I got some wonderful drugs, told Mason and my mom that my face felt weird, and they wheeled me off. I remember climbing on to the operating table and starting to cry, the nurse held my hand until I don’t remember, and then everything is dark until recovery.

Just know that all my recollections from the next two days are under the influence of a lot of drugs and a generally poor emotional state, so take from them what you will. I remember I could hear things before I could see anything, and I was in a lot of pain and discomfort from the air bubbles in my abdomen (they pump you full of gas during surgery so they have room to work, and they try to get it all out before they wake you up, but some usually sticks around and patients usually experience some discomfort until the bubbles subside – thank you to my nurse anesthetist sister-in-law for warning me about this before surgery or I would have been much more upset!) I heard the nurse on the phone asking for Mason, and telling him I was a little upset and he could come back to comfort me. I vaguely recall him standing over me and trying to calm me down, but I just kept asking over and over if I still had my ovaries (when I get focused on something I want, it’s difficult to break my concentration, apparently even with heavy drugs). For some reason, I was really bothered by the fact that they had switched my hospital bracelet to the other wrist during surgery – not sure why this mattered, but it really freaked me out. And this is the part I really hope I didn’t imagine because it’s one of the most amazing experiences I’ve ever had with a nurse – my recovery nurse took my hand, looked at me and said “Yes, you have your ovaries, and yes, this really fucking sucks and if there’s ever a time to say that, it’s right now!” And I remember feeling surprised and a bit worried about how long I might have been dropping F-bombs without realizing it, but being so grateful to my nurse for understanding and commiserating with me! Nurses are the best and they have to deal with so much shit in their jobs (literally and figuratively), so please be nice to them the next time you interact with one 😊

I was wheeled to my room and slept on and off the rest of the afternoon. My mom went home to take care of Charlotte and Mason stayed with me overnight. That evening, the nurses had me get out of bed and walk around, and I’ll just say that this was excruciating and I felt like I was going to throw up the whole time. In case you didn’t already realize, you use your core muscles for just about every motion your body makes, and they had just cut through mine in 4 places (not to mention a very uncomfortable internal incision they had to make through a very sensitive area :/) The air bubble pain never let up and I couldn’t wait to get back to bed.

The next morning I felt much stronger and walking around was a bit easier. The nurse gave me a shot in my stomach that left me seriously questioning if I actually could handle the needles involved in IVF, and when I asked why should couldn’t give it to me in my arm, she said “Oh, it’s for blood clots”. Mmmk then. They said I could be discharged that morning, but I had to pee a certain amount first. Proud to say I exceeded their expectations (seriously, it rivaled the pee I had right after my epidural wore off when I had Charlotte). My doctor checked on me one more time before we left and said she would call me later that week with the results of the lymph node biopsy and pathology, but that everything had gone smoothly. And off we went – my mom to our house to get things ready, and Mason and I to the pharmacy to get my prescriptions. I remember briefly becoming aware that I was in a pharmacy, but unsure how I got there. And then, probably to the detriment of the democratic process, we stopped at our voting precinct to vote (it was Election Day). Ya’ll – I located my ID, verified my address with the election official, filled in a scantron effectively (I think) and got my “I voted” sticker and I have no memory of who was even running for election that day. I did look at the ballot prior to my surgery to make sure I had a good idea of the way I wanted to vote, but I honestly have no idea if that’s what I ended up doing. So, next time I have surgery near election day, I’ll try and fill out an absentee ballot in advance!

I rested for most of the day and then Charlotte came home – I was so happy to see her! We knew she wouldn’t really understand what was going on but we had to tell her something about why I couldn’t pick her up, so we opted for the basic truth – “Mama has boo boos on her tummy and she can’t pick you up”. We debated whether or not to show her the incisions (they were pretty gross-looking at that point) but she insisted. So I showed her and she gave me a big kiss and gentle hug on the shoulder – cue the waterworks. Even now, many weeks out from surgery, we have to look at mommy’s boo boos every morning and every night. During my recovery, we talked about how much better mommy’s boo boos are and how, even though mommy still couldn’t pick her up, she could give hugs and snuggles, and everything would be back to normal soon. She’s been pretty amazing throughout the process (despite her terrible two-ness rearing it’s head a few times!)