The day of throat surgery is here. I was really not nervous.
I am reassured by the anesthesiologist who was wearing Mardi Gras beads and flirting with all the nurses that I would be able to talk during surgery and right after.
He said I’d be in a state of bliss, awake but not aware.
I’d be happy and high.
Oh, how wrong he was!
The doctor came in and started.
I was fully aware and in pain.
I started screaming as best I could with my throat cut and blood gurgling.
This could not be happening.
I could feel the warm blood on my throat.
I went out.
I’m awake again, more pain.
The doctor is trying to get me to repeat after him and I’m screaming this hurts!
I’m awake again. THIS HURTS AND ISN’T RIGHT!!!!!!
They put me under several times and every time they brought me up I was fully aware.
A couple of the nurses asked the doctor if I was going to remember this and their names.
Yes, I do.
He found the placement for the implant.
My scream became louder and crystal clear.
He finished sewing me up.
My IV was dripping onto my bed as I was wheeled out of surgery.
Seriously, I wasn’t even hooked up? Why am I not out now?
I felt hacked open and violated.
My blood pressure was so high I couldn’t leave the recovery room, for hours.
They pumped me full of pain meds through the now reattached IV but nothing was bringing it down.
No one told my mom and Michael where I was. They had been given my room number and had been in there waiting with no idea what was happening.
This was a nightmare.
One of the many nurses who kept checking on me gave me her cell phone so I could call Michael. The second I heard his voice I started bawling.
I told him what had happened and where I was in hysterics.
By the time the drugs took effect and I was wheeled to my room the tears had subsided then I saw my mom and it all started again.
I just couldn’t understand how or why I’d just been through something so horrific.
They later tried to blame it on all my other medication saying it made me impossible to regulate. Excuse me but they had the list of medications for over a month and I’m very sure it’s his job to see what patients are on BEFORE the damn surgery!
I was livid.
What was the point?
Was my karma that bad?
Later that night another nurse ripped my IV out by tripping over the cord.
Blood and antibiotics flowed into my bed and soaked my blanket.
I was never reattached or given clean bedding.
This had nothing to do with me or my karma.
This place just sucked!
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