Wanna hear something freaky? I mean Really Freaking Freaky? For 3 nights after my surgery I kept dreaming I was dead. Not dying. Already dead. I would wake up thinking, “Oh My God I’m Dead!!!” About 5 times a night.
Um. I think anesthesia messes with me Way More than it does other people.
I learned some other things through this process, too.
Like, nurses rock.
When I came to after my apparently perfect surgery, two female nurses were standing just outside my recovery room. I was still a little foggy, but I think they were discussing which of them was going to take care of me. All I know is that one of them finally said, “We’ll do her together.”
“Ladies,” I said in my best anesthetic drawl, “that sounds dirty.”
Oh, how they laughed.
At least this time I didn’t wake up crying. I did that after a hernia repair several years ago. My beautiful husband loves to tell everyone we meet how I came back from surgery bawling and talking about Harry Potter.
I dunno. I mean, Rowling is something of a personal hero and the books are genius, but wtf?
So my nurses rocked and I woke up smiling and my amazing doctor hugged me after telling me the surgery went perfectly and I have an 85% chance of not needing a hysterectomy.
I mean, yeah yeah. I’ll take that.
Pain. No sleep. Recurring nightmares. Up all hours of the night to pee. Kind of like having a newborn. Only there was nothing little and cute to cuddle to remind me why it was all worth it. And I didn’t have any energy so I seriously spent most of four days laying on the couch watching HBO and Netflix. Those dudes should totally sponsor me now; I know Everything About Them. I have spent vast amounts of time with them. Stupid body.
As you probably know, I took a week off work thinking it would give me time to refresh and regroup and get a bit more of the upcoming school year planed. The reality was I didn’t even have it in me to refresh let alone do any school planning. And hello? I cannot get that week back. It’s totally gone. Forever. Stupid time.
The most important thing I learned is that I Do Not Like to rest. I do not like it in a bed, I do not like it in my head. I think I went mildly bonkers. There are only so many times you can cheer when the Barden Bellas win Worlds. I wanted to be up and moving, cooking meals, doing laundry, writing blog posts, checking out what everybody was doing on Instagram. Sure, I could have done that from couch, but it would have required lifting a finger.
I’m just sayin’, it’s a good thing we homeschool and our year hasn’t started yet, because mama fell apart a little this week. It was so not supposed to happen that way.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find a way to prove to myself that I’m not in some elaborate Sixth Sense type of horror film where the dreams were real and right now isn’t. I mean, I don’t think I’m dead, but neither did Bruce Willis.
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