July 18, 2009 12:00 pm
Yesterday morning was my reverse boob job. I’ll skip the suspense and fill you in on the fact that I made it out alive. Several of my bloggy friends emailed to wish me luck and find out if I kicked it or not. Thanks for checking in on me guys, I’m going to live to blog another day.
Jamie and I are currently holed up in the Hampton Inn while I recover. My parents are at the house with the kids so it seemed like the logical choice to come here. We have cable, Wifi and an ice machine at our disposal. It rocks. I’m treating this recovery like a mini vacation since nobody is screaming in my face and I have my own private butler/nurse (Jamie). The Vicodin doesn’t hurt either.
I don’t remember much about yesterday’s surgery since I was you know, asleep. I do remember being led into the operating room, all toasty and warm from the meds they gave me to relax. The anesthesiologist was kick ass, he happily hummed some tunes while they got everything setup. I asked him if he would be providing the day’s entertainment and he asked me what type of music I was into. I told him classic rock and he promptly put his iPod on the docking station and blasted George Thoroughgood’s “Bad To The Bone.” That’s the last thing I remember and then I was awake in recovery, fighting the urge to vomit.
The recovery room nurse was something else. All I wanted to do was close my eyes for two fucking seconds but she kept yelling at me, asking me what my pain level was and how I felt. Also, scanning me like I was a piece of produce. Jamie told me that she spent an entire hour scanning my wrist and scanning a pill bottle trying to link up the fact that she was going to give me a pain pill. Then she had to call in two reinforcements to help her figure out the scanning situation. She asked me when I’d be ready to go (it was outpatient surgery) and I said “RIGHT NOW, PLEASE.” I politely muttered something about just wanting to go home to my own bed to be left alone. She got the hint and basically tore my IV out of my hand and wheeled me to the car. I tried to be nice to the lady but man was she a moron. At least it wasn’t just me, Jamie later told me that he was about to tell her to back off before I snapped and killed her.
So here we are, living the life of luxury at the Hampton Inn. We’re going home tomorrow afternoon and I’ll be hiding in the bedroom for most of the next two weeks. Since I can’t lift the kids for at least two weeks, I’m going to limit my exposure to them and only come out when they’re seated in their high chairs or in the tub. We have a sitter coming every day and staying until bedtime so Jamie won’t be completely on his own. Although my boobs hurt, it’s nice to be able to just lay around and watch TV. This is probably the most relaxing vacation I’m going to have in awhile so I plan to enjoy it.