Monday, February 23, 2015

Post Op, Again.

I made it through my surgery, but it ended up being much more of an ordeal than I thought it was going to be. (As usual, my sinuses are partially to blame.)

I went in, early, because the doctor had extra time in his schedule that day. They had me change, put me into a gown, and took me into the OR. What amused me was that, while everyone was in gowns and sterile, I was in my jeans and shoes still, obviously NOT sterile. I thought they would make me leave my clothes behind, but no. Hey, whatever works. They strapped me down first thing, to "keep me from falling off the table," but we all knew it was a "We don't want you punching the doctor and running in terror" situation.

They numbed my lip, which involved a giant needle inserted up through the lip into the muscle above. This hurt like words I don't ever say out loud. The nurse knew it would hurt that much, because she'd taken my hand even before the shot. I thought, "Wow, that's friendly but unnecessary" until the needle went in and the pain made my eyes water. Then I thought, "Okay, I get it."

Then they did stuff I couldn't feel for a while, and I had the odd experience of bleeding without seeing or feeling the blood except for where it touched the un-numbed parts of my face. It was weird.

While they worked on me, the doctor discussed spring with the nurses, and one woman bemoaned the chipmunks ravaging her garden.

"I'm surprised it hasn't already been shot, knowing your neighborhood," the doctor told her. Everyone laughed (except me), and then the doctor told me why the shooting jokes. Apparently, one of the nurse's neighbors (Lawyer A) went next door and shot another neighbor (Lawyer B), then went back home and shot up his/her house to make it look like a random crime. "Some Melrose Place stuff was going on, I think," said the doctor.

This made my surgery far more entertaining.

I went home and looked it up, though, and no one has any idea who shot that lawyer, or the other lawyer's house. Unless there are no news articles about it.

They used bright blue stitches, to give my incision a nice, gangrenous look. Also there are six stitches on top, other stitches underneath. I thought the incision would be shallower and also smaller. Boy was I wrong.

The took me back into another room and I got changed into my regular clothes and then they sent me home. "Better take my sample with me!" the nurse laughed, brandishing a plastic container. I quickly realized a hunk of my flesh was in the sample container. This was gross. Also I am glad she did not forget to take it with her, because that sucker needs tested for goodness-knows-what. We may find out it was my twin. (Probably not.)

The next day, my upper lip blew up like a balloon. This started a chain reaction of my sinuses responding to extra pressure by exploding. I could not move my upper lip, which swelled up to the point that it turned itself inside out. It was a good look for me. That morning, I had no idea that I even had stitches, because the swelling concealed them. To laugh, I had to use my hand to pinch my lip together so the stitches would not pull.

So. Not doing this surgery again.

Thankfully, today, the swelling is nearly gone. Tomorrow morning, the stitches come out, which is nice because I have had to keep washing them with my Q-Tips and then trying to dislodge the cotton from the tip that gets wrapped up in the stitches. I can't feel it, but it's all kinds of creepy.

I have spent the past four days texting Dad photos of myself in various stages of recovery. In the top right picture, note how my mouth is not at all capable of closing.

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