After checking the wound today, Dr. Mitra says I have to go back into surgery. The tooth mark left in the skin bridge doesn't look so good. I thought I would go crazy while he made me lie on my stomach--the position I have to take whenever the wound is looked at--for this mornings redressing and check. I am disappointed, but worse, I am like a caged animal. Something they are giving me is making me really anxious. I can not go into that surgery room again in this state. I have asked for something to soothe my nerves. Weak me! It ended up Xanax.
We laughed with the nurses all the way to surgery. Scott came with me to the surgery. I thought he was really funny, but he said I was the funny one. He asked me on the way if we were going to get a baby out of this trip to the surgery. I replied that there had been only one immaculate conception. The nurses laughed and laughed at that. I am funny, but only when I am really nervous.
Getting and settling on the operating table--which is a misnomer because even a little table is wider that this operating table--was a joke. As they tried to decide which way to have me lie, I was just sure I would fall off the table.
Why do doctors tell you that anesthesia strong enough for surgery is going so sting "just a little." Liars. When he gave me the first shot of anesthesia it really hurt. I said, "Whoa!" Everyone stopped working and just looked at me. I am not sure what they expected; swearing, crying, screaming. Not whoa obviously. Dr. Mitra started to work, but not very gently. He is not a gentle doctor. He worked for a while and then decided to snip away some skin which was not past feeling. Again I said, "Whoa" louder than before. One of the nurses laughed. I was laughing with that nurse on the way back to my room when she told me that I did well. My reply was, "Yes I only said 'whoa' three times. She laughed so hard she ran my bed into the wall. I am pretty sure they do not use the word 'whoa' here, so I am not sure why she thought it was so funny. Ah well, it is always good to laugh.
I am grateful for the Xanax. It got me through the surgery and calmed my nervous. I have refused to take any painkillers after this little surgery. We are praying the skin bridge holds. Dr. Mitra tried to save it while he got rid of what did not look good.
My eyes are still suffering. One of the nurses thinks it is caused by the strength of the antibiotics. She says I am on huge doses of heavy antibiotics.
Broke out of jail for an hour. Scott checked me out on a one hour pass; what hospital in Utah would allow that? We drove around, stopped at McDonalds;I haven't been eating much which is good for Scott who is eating the majority of the meals the hospital provides. We ate at the sea wall and watched a cruise ship leave Suva Harbour. In just exactly an hour we were back at the hospital.
Scott has been so good. He sleeps every night on this really uncomfortable looking couch. He takes care of my every little need. He has brought chick flicks-Enchanted, Pride and Prejudice, Ever After and Herbie the Love Bug--from home for me to watch. My eyes seem to handle that OK, just not little print. So far we have just watched the first two, but they have given me a mental respite.
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