For my regular readers, I posted a blog about my cancer diagnosis a few weeks ago. I kind of left you hanging after that, so I decided it was time to write another blog post about my treatment journey. For the sake of staying in chronological order, I will focus this post on my second surgery and then visit the aftermath next time, which was phase 1 of cancer treatment. Rewind to about two months ago. As I was getting ready to have sinus surgery for the second time, I really wasn’t scared. This surgery would simply be my oncologist removing the stump that my ENT left during the first surgery and taking biopsies of different areas, like my orbit and skull base. The recovery was supposed to be very similar to my first sinus surgery, which was no big deal. I rode to the hospital that morning ready to take on this thing! I was also ready for a sandwich. Fasting does not agree with me. My bags were packed because, this time, I would stay overnight in the hospital. I arrived at the hospital with my husband and mom and got ushered to the surgery prep floor. The nurse showed me my surgery prep bag on the hospital bed. I used the wipes to wipe down my entire body and put on the lovely purple disposable surgery gown and non-slip socks. Then I realized I forgot to pee before getting all of my surgery attire on, so I waddled down the hallway of the surgery floor to the bathroom making sure my gown didn’t gape open in the back. Not my best look. After the careful trip to the bathroom, I laid back in the hospital bed and turned on a reality TV show about a girl with Tourette syndrome. The nurses came in and placed my IV catheter. My mom, my husband, and my pastor came into the room, and then my aunt showed up! A crowd! The anesthesiologist joined the party to make sure I understood the risks involved with surgery, and we chatted for a short bit about running and steak, my two passions. We then gathered and said a prayer with my pastor. Shortly after, the nurses came to wheel me off. I gave my husband’s hand a squeeze and then waved as I was wheeled down the hallway. When we got into the elevator to head to the OR, the nurses explained that they were giving me Versed in my IV, which would make me feel relaxed, maybe loopy, or the dream of every Type A personality, it would make me feel like a Type B personality. They were definitely right. As they wheeled me into the OR, I could see a team of people there and the surgery lights above me. One of the nurses said, “I’m going to place a mask on you. It’s just oxygen.” That’s the last thing I remember before surgery. Clearly, it was not just oxygen. I woke up in recovery, and there was a nice nurse right there. He offered me water, and of course I took it because I was breastfeeding and I drink water like crazy. My surgeon then stopped by, and he seemed so happy. He said the surgery went extremely well, and suggested that I may not even need to get radiation. I couldn’t believe it! No one had mentioned not doing radiation before. I was wheeled to my hospital room, and my mom and husband joined me shortly after. It was probably the pain meds talking, and the euphoria at the thought of not needing radiation, but I was pretty spunky. My husband probably should have taken away my phone. I was texting family members and loved ones, joking about the lift next to my bed. I honestly can’t remember what else I was joking about, but I’m sure it was entertaining or disturbing for those receiving texts. My husband and I watched some cable TV, and we got updates about our son from my mother-in-law, who was watching him. My hospital room had the perfect view of Jesse Hall and Memorial Union, Columbia’s most iconic buildings. My husband got settled in his bed right next to the window, but not before I jumped up on his bed for a picture in front of the window to show the view. That was probably not the greatest idea on the all the drugs I was on. I explained to the nurses that I wanted to stay on schedule with my pain medications as I learned from my last surgery that it is easier to stay ahead of the pain. We settled into our beds and went to sleep. I thought a night in the hospital and away from the baby might help me rest. Boy, was I wrong. Things were going well, but that all started to change at 2 A.M. I heard the door to my room open, so I raised my head. A bald man in a hospital gown walked into my room, looking confused. He said, “Oh, I guess I walked into the wrong room.” He turned around to leave, and his hospital gown revealed more of his backside than I wanted to see. After having a stranger’s ass in my face, I knew I wouldn’t be going back to sleep for some time. Shortly after, the tech came into my room to take my vitals. I was about due for my next pain medication dose, so I mentioned to him that I would like more pain medication. “I’ll tell the nurse,” he said. I dozed back off, and then I woke up a couple of hours later. This time, my nose was throbbing. The nurse must not have given me my pain medication. I pushed the call button and asked for pain medication...again. The nurse came in with my medication. She didn’t apologize as I had hoped, but she gave me my pills, which was good enough. I laid down and tried to drift back to sleep, but it took awhile since I felt like I had been punched in the face. I had just started to fall asleep when the ENT residents came in to make their rounds. They asked how I was doing. I mentioned I was in a little pain, but that we had got behind on the pain medication (exactly what I didn’t want to happen). We discussed that I would likely be discharged later in the morning. When shift change happened, I was relieved to see that I had the nurse that I had the day before, who I really liked. As I was organizing my things to leave the hospital and drinking my morning coffee, my nurse walked in. She said, “Um, I may have an embarrassing question for you.” I said, “Okay, go ahead,” with uncertainty. She handed me a box and said, “The pharmacy sent this up. Do you need this?” I looked at the box and realized it was the morning after pill. I said, “Ummmm, no...” The nurse said, “Oh, the pharmacy must have sent it up by mistake.” We both had a good laugh when I told her that my husband and I did not have that great of a time last night. In fact, my husband had slept through everything, including the stranger in the assless hospital gown and my missed pain medication. I said this while secretly thinking to myself, “What in the world did they do to me in that OR?” I kid, of course. All in all, my experience in the hospital went well. I learned from the experience that I have a lot to be grateful for, especially for the people who were there with me, the doctors and nurses who had to deal with me, those praying for me, those doing the behind the scenes work to keep my life and business running smoothly, and to those who sent inappropriate messages, GIFs, and/or videos to keep me entertained. I left feeling very positive, and slightly loopy, but like every good high, it wasn’t meant to last. Next week I’ll share how naive I was to think that this surgery stuff was a piece of cake.
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Jessica Stroupe, DVM
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August 2017
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