Saturday, March 12, 2016

Of Hospitalization and Realization

When I was told it will be just a minor surgery I thought there'd be no dextrose and skin test involved...was I wrong! 
I didn't bother to ask or google, I went there on the day of my schedule and "surrendered" myself, I told my kids to wait for me at the waiting area and went in the delivery room. My son waited for me for 6 hours, I had to be fully functional before they let me go. My daughter had to go to school so she left early.

I hate needles! I've been pierced so many times before and I still don't get used to it. But it was necessary they said. For a 15-minute procedure the preparation was too elaborate in my opinion. To make matters worst a skin test had to be done also. That made me cry. 

After all those preparation, they finally took me inside the operating room. I was tied up, arms and legs. While they were tying me up my eyes were fixed to the big clock on the left side of the white wall. I kept thinking what doctors on the movie would say, "time of death". So that's why they have big clocks in the operating room, I thought to myself. 
When the anesthesiologist said that it was time for me to go to sleep, I instinctively looked at the clock, it was 12:25 pm. The medication was very painful, it felt hot, I complained if it was supposed to be painful. The doctor said yes and then I was gone. The next thing I remember was being awoken by the nurse telling me that the operation was over and they were going to transfer me to the recovery room. I looked at the clock it was 12:40 pm. And then I fell back to sleep again. It was like that for the next 4 hours, falling in and out of sleep. I'd ask for my son in my every waking state. He must be hungry, I thought. He'd never eat without me.

When I finally came around, the nurse called my son to see me and I saw a big sigh of relief in his face, I said I was sorry it took me so long to recover and I was so worried about him. He said it was no big deal.

One thing I realized is that my son can take of himself, I was pleasantly surprised to know that he took care of the hospital billings. He did what he was told to do.  And he did it right. My son is 15, he's not a little helpless boy anymore he can take care of himself, I have to remind myself that.