I had my surgery on Tuesday morning (blogs conveniently scheduled to publish without me. I live to serve my reading public.).
I got up at 4:45 to be at the hospital at 5:30 so that at 7:30 my scar could be cut out of my upper arm and my arm-skin could be stitched back together, leaving a small straight seam instead of that gnarly velociraptor-shaped burn scar.
All my doctors were ridiculously super nice and my nurse was pretty nice even though I think maybe she was annoyed with me at first because she said that she was going to take me back to get me ready for surgery and then page David to meet me but I insisted that he accompany me the entire time. But once she got over that, we won her over with our charm and good manners.
And everything went smoothly. The IV with saline was absolutely the worse part but I think the anti-anxiety meds had kicked in because instead of fainting or dying, I just said "Ugh that feels so nasty I hate it IhateitIhateit." To Hottie McHottie, the anesthesiology resident who was so lucky as to get to insert my IV.
Hottie McHottie kept assuring me it wouldn't hurt or it would only hurt for a minute and I told him, "Dude, it's not the pain. It's the grossness of you sticking something in my veins when I can feel it." But once it was in, I just didn't look at it and it was fine. They didn't do a general anesthetic, but just gave me IV drugs to keep me groggy and did a local nerve block on my arm.
I am not sure what those IV drugs were, but as they got ready to wheel me to the operating room, Hottie McHottie was like, "OK, so I'm going to put this in your IV and then you're going to feel like you've had a few drinks." A moment later, I was in the operating room and things were kind of swirling and I was thinking that if this was what having a few drinks is like then it would appear that I had been roofied but I never got the chance to say that because then I was waking up and it was all over.
I still felt a little loopy. They gave me water with a lid and a straw and a graham cracker and I snacked like a preschooler until David came in to pick me up. I felt fine, just groggy.
We were home by 11am, and I had a conversation with my mom that I don't really remember. Then I basically slept the day away and then went to bed early and slept the night away.
They gave me pain pills and told me not to drive or make important decisions while I am on them. Also, they require a stool softener which for some reason I find totally embarrassing.
I took one pain pill the day of surgery but haven't taken any since then. Yesterday I did tylenol and ibuprofen and today I haven't had anything at all and I'm not weightlifting or anything (I am not supposed to lift anything for six weeks!), but just sitting around, I feel absolutely fine which seems miraculous to me because it's not like I have a high pain tolerance or anything.
My arm is still wrapped up with its post-surgery bandage as I had to leave it on there for 48 hours. Which means I haven't showered in almost 48 hours and I am feeling disgusting. It also means that I haven't actually looked at the scar/incision since it was a dinosaur-shaped burn.
I am totally nervous about unwrapping it and even though I know everyone is right when they say it can't really look worse than it did, it feels so final and I am worried that somehow it will look terrible.
I might do pictures later. If it isn't too gross.