They're gone

A few hours after I wrote my previous post I got a call from my nurse.  There was a cancellation and I was being offered the 8:15am surgery slot for Thursday morning.  That's right, yesterday.

A part of me really wanted to pass on it because I always need some time (more than 14 hours!) to mentally prepare for things like this but the other part of me really, REALLY wanted to get this overwith.

So, we got up at 4:30am and we were out the door bright and early.  But not without a quick stop for David to get breakfast.

He offered to go without so that I wouldn't feel tortured since I couldn't eat anything but I insisted.  After all, he had to be my caregiver for the rest of the day.  I needed him to be strong in every aspect.

We gave ourselves an extra 20 minutes to get there just in case there was unexpected traffic, but there wasn't any so we were going to get there pretty early.  We had enough time to stop at another Dunkin Donuts so David could fill his body with a little more caffeine.

When we got to the building it became obvious very quickly that we were one of the first appointments. The floor was empty. 

I paced around in the hopes that someone would see me and that we wouldn't be forgotten about.  A few minutes later a nurse appeared out of no where and called my name.

Once we were brought back I had to give a sample in a cup.  You know why?  To check to see if I was pregnant.  That never gets easy.  I'm infertile and on birth control pills.  I wonder what the chance of pregnancy is for those both combined.  I'm well aware that it's policy but it still sucks.  Luckily, they never tell us patients why they need the sample, so at least they spare us from the 'p' word.

After that, I put on my gown, booties and signed a bunch of consent forms listing all the complications that could happen. 'Initial here to show that we are allowed to rush you to a hospital if there is a complication'.  'Can we photograph parts of the procedure for medical use?' The anesthesiologist came in and hooked me up to an IV that re-hydrated me.

My doctor for the day came by to greet me and go over everything.  He was a very sweet man.  Told me that he would take good care of me and then afterwards I would be given 'what they call Vicodin'.  Having a doctor who's native language is something other than English is fun.

Then I sat and waited. And waited. Every few minutes I would bug David and ask him what he was reading on his phone and if he could share it with me.  I also passed the time listening and making fun of other patients. Well, one other patient.  Not right, I know, but I needed to distract myself from the nervousness somehow.  I had an HOUR to kill, just sitting there on a bed, in a human cubbyhole. Plus, this girl was a piece of work.  We are told at the time we make our appointment what we can't have on us at the time of surgery (no perfumes, powders, jewelry, makeup, contact lenses).  The anesthesiologist also asks about the contacts once we are there.  This girl made it all the way to the OR and then remembered she hadn't taken them out.  So, I made fun of her.  Mostly because she was the surgery before me, and the longer she took, the longer I had to sit and wait, staring at the ceiling tiles.

Moving on. I'm finally brought back to the OR.  I walk into the room and see the all too familiar intimidating bed/stirrups and 4 doctors and nurses smiling and asking me questions and telling me what to do.  'Can you confirm your name and why you are here for us?' 'Scoot down until you feel like you are going to fall off the end of the bed.'

An oxygen mask was put on my face and I remember feeling drowsy.  My guess is 5 seconds later I was out.

I woke up in my cubby all sorts of confused.  I was told that I was being restless while trying to come out of anesthesia; taking my heart rate monitor off my finger and trying to remove my blanket which would have given every passerby a show. 

Awesome.

I had to post it.

As the nurse was telling me all of this it quickly became clear that I was in a LOT of pain.  More pain than the last time I had this done. I quickly received a second shot of painkillers into my IV and a fresh heating pad and it didn't take long for things to get a little better.

The doctor came over and told me that everything went well and that he got all the polyps out. What he said next almost brought tears to my eyes. 

'It's perfect for a baby.'

While recovering at home yesterday I kept replaying that sentence in my head.  All this pain will be worth it. The doctor even thinks so.  I now have a perfect little home for our baby to grow.  I can feel my hope rising and I'm not even trying to squelch it. 

As terrible as yesterday was it was also sprinkled with moments of joy.  Yesterday helped me realize even more how blessed I really am despite the infertility issues.  I have an amazing support system with David, family and friends.  I don't know what I would do without them.  Thank you all so very much.

My in-laws are awesome.