UPDATE: I actually typed this with a headache that started when I woke at 4:30 am. Ended up having a migraine for the entire day and didn’t actually go back to work until the next day.
I’ve had many people tell me that they don’t know how I do it.
The it they refer to is that they seem to think I’m on the go a lot and that I sleep very little. Nothing could be further from the truth, although online I seemingly sleep little. The reality is that during the working week I do tend to stay up later than most and on the weekends when I can I hibernate every chance I get. Nothing says weekend more to me than being absolutely lazy and watching some Bourne flick. (Not sure if you know this, but given any Saturday or Sunday you WILL find a Bourne movie on cable. Guaranteed.)
But this week has been quite different and really not much has happened.
Last Wed., Dec. 11 my husband and I arrived at Seton Medical Center at 4:30 am. The hospital doors aren’t even open then. We had a nice security guard buzz us in. We waited for a little while until they admitting lady started taking peoples information. After they called my name we went back into my post op room, undressed, changed into a super glamorous hospital gown with ventilation, bagged up the clothes I was wearing, laid down in the hospital bed as a nurse began taking my vitals and on his second attempt finally started my pic line in my hand. Ouch! First time I had ever had a pic line and I knew immediately I wasn’t a big fan. The area still hurts a week later.
I had a few meet and greets with the anesthesia nurse, the anesthesia doctor, my doctor and then at 6:30 am the two nurses came in – one was talking to Charles telling him it was time for him to go to the waiting room, the other nurse was speaking to me and telling me she was going to put something in my pic line . . . and I woke up in a different room, in a different hospital gown totally groggy about 5 hours later. I was to learn later that the drug they gave me was pretty much the same thing as the date rape drug.
I remember nothing. Five hours of my life totally disappeared.
Which I guess is really fine. They gave me an epidural, which was really one of the things I was least looking forward to, but I don’t recall it. They said I was speaking, but couldn’t really tell me what I said.
It took some time from when I began to awake for the hospital to have my room ready. Once it was, they wheeled me down halls and to my room all the while I was still semi-awake. Too many turns for my liking though and just as we entered my room I started vomiting. Fun stuff!
Charles arrived in my room a bit after I did. I spent the next couple of hours between awake and half-asleep. Started posting on social media by 3:45 pm that day and had already started the process of getting out of bed and taking a few steps.
We left the hospital by 4:30 on Thur., Dec. 12.
A week later, my new hip is on the mend. I had a few people come to visit at the hospital, friends and family sent me gifts for my short stay, at home I’ve had meals and flowers delivered, a few friends come by to check on me, met with my at home physical therapist twice, and most importantly become a walker super-user.
My husband has been at my beck and call and I’ve been working hard at not checking work email and resting up.
Today I return to work – albeit from home. Anxious to see what I’ve missed in a week.