Please read the installments in the correct order to best understand the story. See here.
The hospital admission was a wake-up call for Jeremy. He started realizing just how much pain I was in and took some FMLA leave from work to be able to help me out at home. I was pretty much on bed rest for the next 3 weeks until the surgery. It was hard for me to see my house dirtier than I would have liked and to not be able to do anything about it. Or to have my 2 year old crying at me and not be able to hold him and console him because his quick movements would jab me in the abdomen and cause pain. I loved being an active and engaged mother and having to sit back and let things happen around me was very difficult for me emotionally.
On April 18, my dad’s 69th birthday, my parents came to spend the night at my house in order to take care of my kids over the next few days while Jeremy and I were at the hospital. That night after the kids were in bed, my father and Jeremy gave me a priesthood blessing to give me comfort and peace and healing in preparation for and during the surgery. I don’t think I slept a wink that night with all the anxiety built up in preparation for a major surgery. I had never had surgery in my 33 years and thinking about being cut into while awake is very nerve-racking. A spinal anesthetic is used for cesareans in order to decrease the amount of medicine delivered to the baby via the umbilical cord. It was still undecided whether I would remain awake for the cystectomy as well. That would be determined after the birth of the baby when the oncologist could see exactly how big the cyst was and the nature of it’s location. So many undecided factors just had my mind going all night. I’m the kind of person that has to prepare myself mentally for big events like this, so not being able to anticipate the outcome gave me some anxiety.
My alarm went off around 6:00 in the morning so I would have time to get everything together and leave to be at the hospital by 7:15 to check in for my 9 am surgery. I wasn’t allowed to eat, wear make-up, or even any lotion that morning. Having never been to this particular hospital, we wandered around awhile before we finally found the check-in desk for surgery. We were told that my procedure wasn’t scheduled until 11:15. The time had been changed and no one told us. Just more time to sit around and worry about the surgery. I was ushered into the pre-op area where I changed into a hospital gown and answered all of the pre-op questions. My nurse was a little anxious having a 39-week pregnant lady sitting in beside her, like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. She really wanted me out of her pre-op room and in the OR so she wouldn’t have to deliver a baby. I think she probably would have had a heart-attack if I would have told her that my water broke.
Dr. Wingo came by in between surgeries to talk to me and prepare me mentally for the surgery and what could happen. It was comforting to see a familiar face and to have her prepare me for what was about to happen. Dr. Wingo has one of those huge beautiful smiles that just sets you at ease. She had quickly become a friend during this whole ordeal. Jeremy had been allowed into the room at this point and we were all laughing and joking about the removal of “Chucky.” The NICU nurses came in to give me IDs and prepare for the birth. The OB doctor who was going to deliver the baby came by and introduced herself. My OB didn’t have privileges at this hospital where Dr. Wingo had privileges and Chucky trumped the baby at this point. The anesthesiologist came and discussed with me what she was going to do and acquired the necessary consent forms for the procedures that she would or may need to do. I also signed a consent for a possible hysterectomy, oopherectomy, salpingopherectomy and appendectomy following the cesarean section and cystectomy. Dr. Wingo knew that I didn’t want my organs removed unless it was necessary and at this point I felt like she was being overly cautious. I signed away all the organs thinking that there was no way they would have to remove them. It was just a big nasty cyst that they were going to cut out and then sew me up. Then I’d be done with those crazy pains and be on to holding my sweet baby. The OR nurse came last and confirmed that I dotted all my “i’s” and crossed all my “t’s” and was ready to go into the surgical suite.
As I was wheeled back down the stark white halls, my anxiety started to grow as I anticipated the imminent surgery. I entered the OR and noticed the welcoming party. I was introduced to all the members of the team and saw how crowded the room was. I had the OB, the OB nurse, NICU representative, Dr. Wingo and her surgical team, the OR nurse, and a few others that I don’t remember. I think there was a total of around 13 surgical staff members in the OR for my surgery. I sat on the edge of the bed hunched over as they put in my epidural and spinal. I started shaking. I don’t know if it was nerves or because the room was so cold, or maybe both. I then laid down on my back as the epidural kicked in. A sheet was draped over my chest so I couldn’t see my belly. They swabbed my it with iodine and I could feel the pressure. The anesthesiologist kept reassuring me that I would only feel pressure during the surgery and not the pain. They didn’t even tell me when they started cutting but I could feel all kinds of tugging and pulling around in my belly. It was a very unnerving feeling. It definitely didn’t help my anxiety. I tried to convince my anesthesiologist that I could feel what they were doing. She continued to tell me that I was only feeling pressure, not pain, but I could tell that she was wanting to do more for me and was wondering if I really was feeling pain. I hated every minute of it. Tears started creeping out of the corners of my eyes. Dr. Wingo noticed my misery and came over and held my hand. There was nothing natural about this birth. It was the opposite of what I had intended at the beginning of this pregnancy. Finally, they pulled the baby out and showed me how perfect he was. I should have been happy but all I could think about was the pulling and tugging I was feeling and I just begged the anesthesiologist to put me out. Prior to the surgery I had made Jeremy promise that he would stay with the baby after he was born. There wouldn’t be anything he could do for me in the surgery and I would be more at ease knowing that he was watching over the baby. So after they pulled out Blake he kissed me good-bye and left with him. The anesthesiologist put something in my IV that burned my veins as it went in but I was out cold seconds later.
I vaguely remember a few things that happened after that. I remember a sensation of not being able to breathe and feeling terrified because I couldn’t move my arms to pull out whatever was stuck in my throat. I also remember later feeling a tube in my throat that impeded my breathing. At this point I had some control over my arm and raised it to either pull it out or alert someone to the fact that I wanted it out. I could hear a man tell me to breathe slowly and take it easy because they were going to take the tube out. I couldn’t open my eyes yet but I remember it seemed like forever until he told me to take a deep breath and let it out slowly as he pulled the tube out. I then fell back asleep.
Read the next installment here.