Howdy. I’m back home after getting thru my eye surgery earlier this week. I’d like to say I was brave, but I was not. I bawled like a baby. It was not a pretty sight. Thank goodness for my mommy who was with me. And for the nurses and other patients who tried to
get me to stop crying toughen me up.
Mom and I headed to the City at 6am. I had to be at the hospital by 7:30 to register and all that jazz and we barely made it. Traffic was ridiculous and the rainy/foggy weather didn’t help. We weren’t there very long when I got called in. I had to change into the lovely johnny shirt and robe and then go into the pre-op room.
The pre-op room had several other patients and each had a nurse. Some patients were preparing for surgery and some were just coming out. I sat with my nurse, a lovely lady named Brenda. She asked me some questions and then I started crying. I am not brave. I’m not gonna lie. The idea of having needles in my face and eye scared the shit out of me and I was not prepared to handle it well. So I freaked out and started crying. So bad that the nurse eventually brought my mom in to sit with me until it was time for surgery.
Please keep in mind that I was the youngest person waiting for surgery…the condition with my eye is something rare and “never happens” to someone my age. So, I was probably 25-30 years younger than the next youngest person.
The nurse put the shunt in my hand for which my iv of drugs would be attached later. Because of my heart condition, she also had to order a cardiogram right away…that was fun. Nothing like having your breasts exposed to a stranger in a strange place. But that was over and done with quickly.
I stopped crying. Then started. Then stopped. This went on for a while. Eventually the surgeon came out to chat with me and said to my mom “How am I supposed to operate thru all those tears?” Yeahhh, your concerns are a little lighter than mine, buddy. Figure it out.
Actually, I should be nice. The surgeon is super duper and I am quite thankful to him.
Eventually I was rolled away (in tears, but not kicking and screaming) into the operating room. The nurse in there chatted me up, trying to take my mind off things but I called her out on it. I hopped onto the operating table, got a pillow under my knees, got the drug tube in my shunt and quickly faded. Although I was awake thru the surgery I don’t remember anything. The only thing I remember was starting to cry again partway thru and heard Dr. O say “she’s crying” and asked me if I was okay. I didn’t answer…I don’t know if I couldn’t or if I was just too emotional but he again said “she’s crying” and then I was out of it again. I mentioned this to Dr. O the next morning and he said that once he heard me crying he got the drug doctor “anesthesiologist” to give me some more meds. Smart guy!
Now, most people who had returned from the surgery while I was waiting to go in were pretty coherent. Not me. I had way too many drugs in me. I was like drooling Homer Simpson.
My mom was brought back in to wait with me. I remember the nurse talking to her about post surgery stuff…but I don’t really remember much of what was said. I slept-ish in the chair for a while and eventually mom took me to the patient lodge across the street where I slept for a few hours. Once I was awake I was ready to have some food and a big glass of water.
My mom was keeping people posted thru the day on the surgery and afterward. She posted on Facebook at one point that I was “very weepy” which is a complete understatement. But even afterward I was, for some reason, emotional. When talking to Blair later in the day I got choked up and teary-eyed…probably from the drugs and the stress of the morning. 🙂
In the evening I had some visitors, which was nice and some unexpected. And Lisa Lou brought me treats. Whoop-de-whoop! Thanks again, Lisa. ❤
I had to see the surgeon again at 7 the next morning and he said everything went well. Unfortunately, we won’t know until Christmas (at the earliest) if the surgery was a success. Here’s hoping. He said there’s 80% chance my vision will improve but it could be up to two years to get it back to normal….IF there is a change at all. So I’m praying.
I was happy to get home and I think Winston missed me.
At this point I have 3 incisions in my eyeball and two small needle marks just below my lower lash lid. I have to take 3 sets of drops four times a day and am not allowed doing much. At this point I’m not permitted to tie my own shoes (thank goodness for flip flops). I have to wear my shield and/or my sunglasses for protection. Thank goodness I have Willy Wonka style sunglasses.
My retina is now unprotected and my eye has to stay dilated all the time to help protect it. If I get anything in my eye I’m up shit creek.
Today I went for a walk and my mom took me to get some groceries. I had plenty of people staring at me and I think I scared a little boy. A little old (OLD!) man on a scooter in the grocery store drove up to me and said “You need to lay off the boxing!”
This is me today…I’ve got a bit of a shiner, I can’t open my eye all the way and there’s that kooky dilation. Not too bad. The incisions hurt and the drops are like shards of glass going in my eye but other than that I feel pretty okay. Fingers crossed for constant improvement.
Favorite Facebook comments from after surgery – and yes, my friends are assholes 🙂 :
Anthony: You’re kinda a cross between a bee, and a pirate. (My favorite.)
Jason: Wow, already got your Halloween costume ready.. nice
Dedra: I still love ya even if you are a one eyed bandit!
Elizabeth: Yay one eyed beauty
Matt: looks like you’re ready for a star trek convention
Lisa: even doped and sporting the eye patch…you’re still one sexy lady! :p
Anne: Do you have a wooden peg leg too?
Blair Sr.: who hit u?
Vanessa: ARGG! Sorry! I had to!
Ryan: you know… most pirates have a parrot, just say’in
Brian: Do you have a matching metal colander to put on your head…to keep the alien brain waves out???
Heading out to for surgery! It’s dark and cool and earrrrly. Here’s hoping for great results.
So, here it is Monday and for the last five weeks I’ve been counting down to my my eye surgery which had been scheduled for tomorrow morning.
The plan was to work until noon today, then go to an appointment at the local hospital and then head home and get things prepared for tomorrow’s journey.
And not that I am looking forward to having eye surgery while I’m wide awake…at all!! But I’ve finally sorta made peace with it and have been looking forward to eventually being able to have perfect vision again.
So this morning I got to work, began training my temporary replacement, confirmed my surgery and finished up some loose projects around my desk.
At 11:45 am I was called into the boss’s office where we discussed my temporary (2 week) hiatus, I received my ROE so that I could begin my sick leave paperwork this afternoon, got my “final” paycheck, and went back to my desk and my trainee. At a few minutes to noon I get a phone call from the surgeon’s office…..
Cancelling my surgery!
WTF? Are you serious? Am I being Punked? Where’s Ashton-Frickin’-Kutcher??
No, I was not being punked. This was real. And it screwed EVERYTHING up.
However. we got things straightened out. My surgery is now booked for Thursday morning. I got “reinstated” as an employee. I finished my work day after my appointment and will continue the week thru until Wednesday afternoon where I will semi-relive a “Groundhog Day” a la Bill Murray.
Last Wednesday I started a course that my employers are paying for. This course (which is every Wednesday evening and wraps up just prior to Christmas) will entail me to take on more responsibility at work. I’m quite excited about it. I love school!!
I was actually really excited about starting. It’s going to be a lot of work – a LOT of homework and concentration – but more responsibility will hopefully mean more money. And hey, it sure does look good on a resume.
The first night went smoothly, my only complaint is having to sit for two and a half solid hours in a shitty chair with a broken tailbone. It took me nearly 10 minutes to get up just to go for a pee break. And I’m not without sound effects. A few grunts and groans go a long way.
I can tell that I’m already a teacher’s favorite…along with another student. She and I were two of only a few to speak up, ask questions and get involved. Interaction is a key to success. I’m usually pretty chipper so I figured no point in holding back that night.
The only crappy thing is that I doubt there are any research or paper assignments. Balls!! I love research papers. Fortunately, the evening before I helped a friend write a research paper for her course. It’s her first time in college so she hasn’t had to write anything since high school more than 10 years ago. I’m pretty sure she’s getting an A. I’m really impressed with
myself the end result.
I’ll be missing this week’s class because my surgery is scheduled for Tuesday and I intend on being extremely medicated Wednesday night when I return home from the hospital.
I’ll be home from work for two weeks so I’m hoping to be a little more faithful with my blog in my
boredom recovery time.
When I was 8 or 9 or 10 I read a book called “The Witch at the Window” by Ruth Chew. As some of you know, I have always loved to read and zipped thru Nancy Drew novels, The Babysitters Club and even Archie Comics….but “The Witch at the Window” is one of those books that has always stuck with me.
It was suspenseful and thrilling and entertaining for my young mind. And something about that witch on the cover always freaked me out. In fact, I used to flip the book over so
she wasn’t staring at me I couldn’t see her.
I have this book somewhere and more than likely it’s in the attic above my parents’ garage along with my Cinderella book and Barbie Dolls and whatever else
I hung onto is leftover from my childhood (which is actually quite a lot). Eventually I’m going to climb up there and dig it out. To read for myself and perhaps to read to Abby. But mostly for myself. 😉
This past Saturday my mom and I ventured into the City for some shopping. It was gorgeous and sunny and we had a great day. Before we left the mall I wanted to stop at Second Cup* for a Pumpkin Spice Latte. It’s that time of year again and *we don’t have a Second Cup or a Starbucks in our area (*the City aka Halifax is an hour from where I live) so occasionally I will treat myself to one or the other. Not often, but in the fall I like a little pumpkin spice and in
winter all the damn time I quite enjoy a candy cane or mint flavor in my beverage. Yum.
So on Saturday I had me a PSL. It was sooooo friggin’ good that I couldn’t stop talking about it, couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t wait to go back and have another. *drool*
FORTUNATELY, as luck would have it, Blair and I were in the City on Sunday with the girls and I was so delighted when he stopped at a Second Cup so that I could satisfy my
new addiction craving. I love him. 🙂
I think it’s actually best for me that there are no Starbucks or Second Cup franchises handy, otherwise I’d be broke and addicted and as big as a house. I’ve been spending a wee bit of time searching for a healthier, at-home version that I can attempt to
screw up make for a tiny portion of the cost. Good luck to me.