As I said yesterday, after a sleep study my doctor
determined I have sleep apnea and needed treatment. (I really already knew this but had never
gotten a professional opinion.) Since
Arden was practically begging me to do it (because she didn't want me to die),
I agreed to have surgery over the option of a CPAP machine. If it was fixable, I wanted it fixed!
They scheduled me for surgery on Friday, November 9th. With Monday the 12th being a holiday, Arden
would have a long weekend to care for me and not have to take too much time off
work. Plus she works from home on
Tuesdays so that gave her an extra day with me.
The hospital had me come by a couple of days before to do
all the pre-op stuff and get registered.
That took nearly three hours, culminating with a visit to the lab for
blood work. The hospital told me my
doctor would tell me what time to be there on Friday morning. My doctor called later that day and asked me
what time the hospital wanted me there.
They (the doctor's office) said 7:15am.
Nothing to eat or drink after midnight on Thursday but take my
medications 9particularly my blood pressure medication) early in the morning
with a minute amount of water Friday morning.
The hospital called me on Thursday and said be there at
7:00am. Why they didn't tell me that
from the beginning is beyond me. Then,
Thursday evening, the anesthesiologist called me to go over everything and told
me not to take any medications at all the morning of surgery. She specifically said don't take the blood
pressure medication because the anesthetic was going to drop my blood pressure
already and if I took my medication on top of that it could be dangerous. Wonder why my doctor didn't think of that? Hmmm....
Anyway - after all
that was settled and I had all my post-op supplies, I was ready. Post-op supplies... tissues, saline nasal spray, Afrin nasal
spray, saline nasal gel, prescribed antibiotics and pain medication. Check.
Ice cream, popsicles, pudding, fruit punch, apple juice, soup, whipped
cream... check. They told me to have plenty of cold liquids
and soft food on hand for the days following my surgery because my throat would
be sore. (In fact, the nurse at the
office told me my throat was going to hurt so badly that I would hate my doctor
for the first few days post-op. Gotta
tell you that was encouraging...)
I told the anesthesiologist I would make things easier for
her and show up rip-roaring drunk Friday morning. I told her I think anyone having surgery
should be able to show up drunk or stoned just to keep the nerves at bay. She didn't seem to see the humor in it and
went through a five minute explanation of why that was dangerous. Geez, I was just kidding. Sometimes doctors have no sense of humor.
We got up around 5:45am on Friday and got ready to go. The hospital is literally five minutes away
from our home so we didn't have to hurry.
I wasn't happy that I couldn't have any coffee but I just had to
suffer. Fortunately for Arden, I'm not
one who gets jealous or selfish so I made coffee for her to take along. That's just the kind of guy I am.
We got to the hospital and checked in. A nurse took us back to the pre-op area, put
me in a room and told me to change my clothes into the famous hospital gown,
with the opening in the back. They
started an IV and took my vital signs, then it was "hurry up and
wait." My surgery wasn't scheduled
until 8:30 and they usually run late so I had time to just lay around and
wonder what it would be like. After
about half an hour the anesthesiologist came in. She was a very pretty young lady who looked
to be all of about 23. She asked me a
lot of the same questions she had asked on the phone and told me I'd get
something in my IV "in a little while" to help me relax. A minute later she was gone and I was waiting
again. Arden was by my side and we
talked and tried to stay calm.
The doctor came by to see how I was and let me know
everything was going to be fine. He was
dressed in all black scrubs - something I hadn't seen before. I wouldn't mind a pair of those myself. Scrubs are very comfortable. I had a few pair when I was a paramedic in
the Air Force and wore them around the house a lot.
As the time drew nearer to 8:30, Arden was getting more
nervous than I was. I mentioned that
they promised me something to relax. I
figured if they gave me that I could just take a nap until it was time to
go. Arden went to ask about it and they
basically said "They'll give it to him when they come back to get
him." So the idea of a nap went out
the window.
About ten minutes went by and the anesthesiologist returned
- with a syringe in her hand. She said
"This is going to help you relax.
It's time to go." She put
the needle into my IV and emptied the syringe into it. I said my goodbyes to Arden and they wheeled
me out of the pre-op area, through a door and around the corner into a
hallway. By the time we made the turn I
was feeling the meds and told them so.
Their response was "Good.".
We went through a door to the right and they helped me get on the
table. That's the last thing I remember
until I woke up in recovery.
I remember waking up slowly with my throat on fire. The nurse asked me if I needed something for
pain and of course I said "Yes."
I wasn't going to refuse free drugs.
And my throat did hurt. Not as much as I expected it to (at the time)
but it hurt.
Arden was there on my right side and said "Hi,
Baby." I reached up and touched
her. That was good enough for me. I don't remember much about the first few
minutes in recovery other than having pain in my throat and the nurse giving me
medication for it. Then came the dreaded
words... "That's the last of the IV
medication. If you need more I'll have
to give it to you by mouth." I
still needed it. She disappeared for a
few minutes and returned with a pill that was at least as big as a
boulder. It was Tylenol #3 (with
codeine) and while looking back I'm sure the pill wasn't really as big as a
boulder - to my sore throat that morning it might as well have been. There was no way I was going to swallow
that. If my life depended on swallowing
that pill at that time I'd have died.
They had given me Tylenol #3 liquid for use at home post-op and we told
the nurse that. She said "Oh, OK"
and went to get that instead. She
returned a few minutes later with the medication in a small cup. I took it and drank it and was instantly
breathing fire!
One of the things they told me about post-op liquids was to
avoid citrus of any kind. The acid would
be very painful. So, of course, Tylenol
#3 liquid is orange flavored and by the way it burned going down I'm pretty
sure it has citric acid in the flavoring.
Really intelligent move there!
My doctor gives most of his patients hydrocodone (Vicodin)
after this type of surgery. It's his
drug of choice, I guess. I can't take
Vicodin. Several years ago I popped a
cartilage between my ribs on the right side.
I went to the urgent care clinic because it hurt terribly just to breathe. They gave me Vicodin and an
anti-inflammatory. Being someone who
doesn't take drugs as a rule, I took one whole Vicodin when I got them just to
get rid of the pain for a while. After
that I took 1/2 of one pill at the prescribed intervals.
After two days I began to feel odd. I had gone up to my dad's home in Ohio for an
overnight visit. I went to bed at around
10 and was unable to sleep. I figured it
was just pain related so I took the other half of the pill thinking that would
put me to sleep. I began reading and was
up for several more hours before I began to get drowsy.
I headed home from Dad's the next day and again went to be
around 10pm. By 2am I was out of bed,
pacing the floors, heart racing, unable to sit or lay down for more than a
minute or two at a time. I was in near
panic mode and had no idea why. Thank
God for the internet. Since the Vicodin
was the only thing new in my life I researched it. There it was, plain as day. In some people Vicodin can cause anxiety, nervousness and trouble sleeping. I can
tell you from experience that it can also cause claustrophobia as well. Around 4am I decided to take a shower and
between the closed shower curtain and closing my eyes to wet my hair I was in
panic mode again. I stopped taking them
at that moment and didn't take another one.
It took nearly two weeks for the effects to wear off. The claustrophobia
was the worst thing. I couldn't even
shower without feeling it. It was
absolutely the worst reaction I've ever had to a medication. I told my doctor he could prescribe anything
else but Vicodin was out. So he
prescribed codeine.
To be continued...
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