Last week was quite an amazing week. I woke up on Wednesday, ready to go to surgery. Walking into the hospital hand in hand with hubby, I was more excited than I was scared. My husband is my rock and just having him there brought me great comfort and confidence. As we sat in the waiting room for a couple of hours, we goofed around like two teenagers sneaking out of the house to have a secret meeting. While the room was full of patients and families, it was like it was just the two of us. Shortly after getting called back to have my vitals done I changed over into the fashionable hospital attire of drawstring pants, open backed gown, a robe and hospital booties. An outfit of which prompted hubby to giggled when I walked back into the waiting room.
When we finally got the go ahead to move into anesthesia, we were met with many nurses, pa's and docs all asking the same questions. Making sure I was the right person getting the right procedure. It was at this point I started to secretly freak out. What was I afraid of? I'm wasn't afraid of something going wrong. I mean not really going wrong...most anything that could happen could be repaired (well except for death). I wasn't worried about my doctor's ability or how we would handle my recovery over the next two weeks. As I laid next to my husband and looked at him...my greatest fear was not waking up to be with him and my children. A long gaze and a tear was all he needed to go into "fix it" mode...and as he does this so well...he calmed my fears and prayed with me.
Next thing I remember is waking up in the recovery room and asking the nurse if everything went ok and was reassured that yes the surgery went well. So I waited to be moved to my room and hubby met up with me in there shortly after the doctor had told me that he did not complete the surgery. I was confused and slow to understand what the doctor was saying and started to freak out a bit, but hubby already knew what had happened. The doctor explained that he thought he saw a mass behind my stomach (on my pancreas) and didn't want to finish the surgery until we could see what it was. He ordered a CT scan and rescheduled my surgery for Friday.
At this point I had been without food or water for almost 24 hours, so it's really bad to admit this, but the CT scan drink (with dye in it) was like a drop of water in a desert oasis! I had to drink a gallon of it but I was so thirsty it didn't matter! We completed the CT scan late Wednesday night and Thursday morning the doctor went over our results, which praise God were negative! The shadow he had seen was most likely caused by my pre-op weight loss but he confirmed there was no mass anywhere. We were ready for surgery the following morning, and within a matter of minutes it was moved up till noon that day. As as luck would have it, right after hubby left to grab a bite for breakfast...I was being wheeled out for surgery that morning.
Was I happy I had to go under a second time? Not really but I was glad to know that my surgeon made the decision to stop the first time to be cautious and make sure I didn't have an existing issue before creating what would have possibly been a problem if he continued to do it. However, I'm convinced since they used the same incisions twice that my pain and bruising are a little greater than most, but I also know that my general pain tolerance is pretty low. I'm a big baby and it doesn't matter that I've had two c-sections, I still wince when I have a needle around me.
So for now, I am recovering well and taking it easy. I am so blessed to have hubby home to help me over the next week. The kiddos are loving it too! All in all it has been a crazy week in my new adventure and I am more than happy with this decision.
Until next time,
WW
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