What was my surgery like?

Figured today was a good time to backtrack and describe the surgery that took place on Dec 7th.

Things happened with blazing speed once getting off the waiting list for my cochlear implant.  In early Dec. my roommate told me that the clinic wanted me to call them as soon as possible.  The first thing the next morning (Wednesday), the nurse is saying to me "We want you to have your surgery next Tuesday!"  At last my two year wait was coming to an end.

Everything was so rushed, the  local clinic did not know what time my surgery would take place.  All they knew was for me to check in at 11 a.m.  Finally a receptionist in the outpatient surgery area told me the surgery would start after 3 p.m.  The temperature in the waiting room bordered on refrigerator conditions, so I asked if I could come back, and if they had any vibrating pager I could use, but they didn't have one. 

Downstairs in a much warmer lobby, I tried to rest when someone tapped me on the shoulder.  It was the receptionist.  She told me another surgery was canceled, so they would be able to operate just as soon as they prepped me.  Talk about huge transitions in such a short time. 

After answering health questions in triplicate, both written and verbal, I was given something in my IV to help me begin to relax.  Then I asked if I could see the surgeon, since he's only in Hawaii three times a year.  Most of the questions I could have asked him have been answered through the CI yahoo groups I've been reading.  But I remember asking at least three questions, and the only one I can remember was "Where will the magnet sit on my head!"  Seem silly, but I heard people couldn't find the implant spot when it came time to put the headpiece on.  (It still is hard to find that spot because the headpiece magnet is weak)

Afterward they wheeled me into the operating room, where I scooted onto the surgery table from the gurney.  He asked me if I was centered on the metal ridge.  I said yes, and he took my hearing aid and bagged it.  The shadowy room filled with towers of medical devices was the last thing I remember until someone shook my shoulder.  I woke up two hours after entering the operating room.

At the foot of my bed, my surgeon held up his fingers in an "ok" sign, and that was the only indication my surgery was successful.  After being asked if I was nauseated, the anesthesiologist offered medication which he said would make me drowsy.  I didn't care for falling asleep when I wanted to wake up and get out of the hospital so I said no.  I must not have been quite feeling my stomach then, because the nausea did show up several minutes later, along with diarrhea.

About 6:30 they were already pushing me out of the hospital...yup in a wheelchair.  I took one dose of pain medication before leaving and wondered when I'd need more.  Soon found out.  Took another percecot, and it wasn't enough since I waited too long and let the pain build up before taking another.  From then on I took two percecots until the third day, then dropped it to zero by the fifth day.  A pressure turban decorated my head, which I covered with a lavalava, a Hawaiian wrap.  On the way to the hotel, my stomach felt like it planned to rebel, so I kept my eyes closed and missed the awesome Christmas decorations throughout Honolulu.

It's time to quit, and the rest of this story can be in tomorrow's post.  (Which is already here!  It's almost 1 a.m.)