My hospital experience.

So, it was all basically a breeze! Jon drove me to the hospital, we checked in, and very shortly afterward, they put me on a stretcher and a LOVELY nurse named Colleen hooked up my IV and did all my paperwork. I was FINE, until the doctor and anesthesiologist showed up. Gulp.

Dr. Todd was his usual, kind self. Dr. VanDamme was a sweet, funny, but reserved man. They gave me their pep talks, and then Dr. V gave me a little shot of something to relax me. I was relaxed but perfectly aware of my surroundings. I did a little stand up lying down, as I was still a bit nervous, and had everyone laughing all the way to my operating table. Once I got there, a few more chuckles and it was LIGHTS OUT.

I woke up in recovery, moaning. I was trying to say that my throat was killing me, but all that came out were moans. That's not unusual. Coming out of all that dope is tough. The nurse, an old blonde woman with glasses, said to a nurse passing by, "Oh, drama!" I was FURIOUS. What do you mean, DRAMA? As soon as I could form coherent sentences, I snapped. "I can't CONTROL it, honey. My THROAT is killing me." She put on her sweet nurse facade and explained that everything I was complaining about was normal. Bah. I ignored her til it was time to go up to my room. I could see Jon sleeping in one of the chairs as I entered the PCU wing. He opened his eyes and sat up.

That's when they turned direction and took me to ANOTHER room, just beyond it. It is, apparently, the tiniest room in the western hemisphere. We could barely get my BED in there. Odd. I could've sworn I saw empty rooms on my wheeling in, but oh well.

My room suddenly became bright, beautiful, and perfect. Why? Because of Eric. Ohhhh, Eric. My favorite nurse in the WHOLE world. Eric looked like a cross between Denzel Washington, Dijmon Hounsou, and Malik Yoba... only more chiseled. OH. My. JEEEEESUS! Seriously, the guy was so beautiful, so fine, that I wondered if the morphine wasn't messing with my sight. He was, in a word, DELICIOUS.

Of course, this same nurse got to be great buddies with my husband while lifting me up to help me to the bathroom, and lifting me off the toilet. Nice. I guess the magic is gone. I'm SURE that's why he wasn't interested in me. It was my pee.

Nevertheless, he was a great nurse. Very attentive and kind. And hawt. I mean, supportive.

He left at 8 PM and the Edie McClurg of nursing arrived, with her aide, a princess in shining armor. Pam, my nurse, just couldn't be more cheerful about ANYTHING she had to do for me, and made darned sure I didn't feel at ALL pressured to hurry if I had to pee, roll over, or just whine. She was a true doll. Happy, chipper, but not in the fake way. Very genuinely loved her job. I couldn't have asked for a kinder lady, who even made sure I had antiseptic hand towels to wash my hands when I came out of the bathroom.

With all the fluids they were pumping into me, I had to potty a lot, and at one point during the night, Emily, the aide, came in to get my vitals. I shyly asked if she could just unhook me from all my machines and I'd make my way to the potty without her, she waved her hand as though swatting a fly, unhooked me, and chatted with me all the way to the bathroom.

She asked me if I wanted her to help or if I could do it, and I swore I could. She said, "Just call me on the little red button beside the toilet when you're done, and we'll get you back into bed." So, I waited til the last possible minute to call her. She was there immediately, and had the hand towels waiting for me. OMG, the efficiency! For someone like me, that is the ULTIMATE compliment.

Anyhoo, these two angels left at 8 AM and the Hawt Angel returned, chipper and ready to get me up and walking. I was ready, too. He told me that first I'd need to go take a leak test. After much giggling on my part, he explained that it was an upper GI type test to make sure my new pouch had no leaks. He got me all settled into a wheelchair and off I went to radiology.

Jon was CONSTANTLY whining about being cold, so the nice assistant there brought him a warm blanket. *insert roll eyes* She brought me one, too, but I wasn't cold. I didn't want to hurt her feelings so I put it in my lap. The doctor came in shortly thereafter and had me stand on the x-ray type machine, and sip some awful yukky goo. It tasted like the syrup in Sprite without the fizz OR water. ICK. I only took three sips before he was happy, so it wasn't too bad.

I was bundled up into my chair, and rolled back upstairs by Pedro. As we came up to the door of my room, Jon hurried in first, since he couldn't fit once Pedro, me, and the wheelchair crossed the threshold. I leaned forward to yank the blankets off of me, and a giant spider (Daddy Long Legs variety) sat up and smiled at me. I yelled, Pedro yelled, Eric, who was coming up to us, yelled... and then we all burst into laughter. If Pedro hadn't been there, I could've watched Eric laugh exclusively, his rock hard chest rising and falling...

So anyway, they discharged me later that day.

As I got myself together, but couldn't seem to shake the sore throat. Eric said it would get MUCH better with a good cough, using my cough moose that Dr. Todd had given me. I tried, but after I'd gotten dressed and ready to go, I checked in the mirror to see if my throat was red, and gasped.

My uvula was torn.

No, not my vulva, as my sister somehow decided I said, but my UVULA. The hanging thing in the back of the throat. It was nicely RIPPED, and hanging off to one side. I ran to Eric, nearly in tears, and showed him. He told me to open my mouth (flutter, flutter), and I showed him the problem. He immediately called anesthesiologist and they sent someone. Not the doctor, but older, chubby, white Attila... I mean, woman. She was only as high as my waist, but clearly a presence.

She first began by explaining that it might FEEL like a cut, but could be just sore... until I opened my mouth to show her. She held her own, but I did detect the slight inhalation of air when she stopped mid-sentence. "Oh, I see." Yeah.

She went to call the doc, and when she came back, said that he thought I might have been a bit difficult to intubate. I asked her if that was somehow MY fault, but she just shook her head and told me it would heal within the week. I hope so. If not, and I have to come back... dammit... I want Eric.