For those of you who don’t follow me on Twitter or Facebook, I’m alive! I made it through the second surgery and am at home taking it easy, eating too many donuts, reading trashy magazines, and napping.
As for the surgery – most of the pre-op was the same except that I was on a different floor and everything seemed more chaotic. The check in nurse was a bit scattered. The woman who came from the lab to draw my blood was terrible at her job (as evidenced by her first draw attempt spewing blood and her second try leaving me with a very dark purple half-dollar sized bruise). Instead of having me sit in a recliner chair as they got my IV prepped, they had me lie down on a gurney under this blow up warm blanket. It was the strangest thing- hooked up to a vent that blew hot air into this inflatable “blanket” made of some sort of plastic. It was warm, for sure, but it also was kind of strange.
I only cried once or twice mostly when someone would learn we were planning our upcoming wedding and would say something nice about it. I just so much want to be past all this cancer and subsequent infertility business so I can focus on marrying Mr. Darcy. But this is our current reality and we’re facing it hand in hand. I am very, very lucky to have him with me every step of the way.
I met with my gyno-oncologist who at first glance reminded me so much of my previous doctor that I had to do a double take. Both of my gynecologists are thin, direct-talking, redheads. She sat with us and we went over everything. She was cautiously optimistic given the CT results. The anesthesiologist came over and was very kind and totally on board with the positive thinking/talk in the operating room. The nurse came by to wheel me int the cold operating room and they quickly got me settled. As the anesthesiologist gave me the drugs, she told me to focus on the positive thoughts and good outcomes and as I did, I went under. Next thing I knew I was waking up surrounded by new nurses who gave me ice chips. I probably woke up about 10-15 minutes after my surgery was over.
They wheeled me to the post-op recovery area where a new nurse met me. She had the same name as what Mr. Darcy and I would name a daughter if we were lucky enough to have one. A sign? Maybe. Depends on if you believe in that sort of thing I guess. After eating a little something and drinking some juice in the post-op area, they let me go home. After getting some donuts (required for recovery), we were home around 11am. I’m feeling mild discomfort- sore back and cramping, dry throat, very tired- but for the most part it is just like a bad period (which I was suffering from the 3 days before surgery so it’s sort of like more of the same).
I asked my doctor to call me if she gets the results earlier than next Thursday (a week from today) when we have a post-op check up scheduled. “Whether they are bad or good?” she asked. “Yes,” I replied. Because I want to know either way. Regardless of the outcome, I’ll face it with Mr. Darcy and all my friends and family standing beside me.
But please oh please oh please, let it be clear margins.