The dreaded day had arrived. September 25; Surgery Day. I wasn’t so concerned about the actual surgery, sure, there were risks, but I was confident in the surgeon. My bigger concern was the recovery and my future health. You can certainly live without a spleen, but your chances for infection or fatal disease increase tenfold.
That morning, we dropped Cardin off at preschool and I gave her an extra big hug. I told her I loved her and that Mimi would be back to pick her up. She walked into the classroom as I wiped tears from my eyes. Afterwards we dropped Rory off to my parents house and it was pretty much the same scene played out over again as I left care of my two babies to my parents.
Would I see them again? Would they remember me? Crazy insane thoughts swirled my head as we drove to the hospital. Once there, we checked into to the surgical center and I was almost immediately brought back to pre-op. Stripped to nothing but a surgical gown, I was immediately hooked up to IV fluids.
After about an hour, I was taken back to pre-anethesia, where I was able to stay with Brett until the time of the operation. We met both the surgeon and the anesthesiologists.
Then it was time to go. I said goodbye to the man who’d been holding my hand this whole time. He promised me, one more time, that everything was going to be alright. And I fell asleep…
I don’t remember leaving for the operating room, I don’t remember any part of the operation. What I do vividly remember is waking up screaming in post-op. My mouth had never been more dry, and there was a tube down my nose into my stomach; causing trauma to my esphogause. I had additional IVs and my family was nowhere in sight. To say I was out of my comfort zone would be taking things lightly. I waited in post-op for 4 hours before a room was available for me.
Which leads to the recovery…..