16. I'm alive, boobless, and in recovery

16. I'm alive, boobless, and in recovery

I don't know if its your adrenaline that gets backed up when you're put under, but in these last two surgeries, I've "come to" like an overdosed Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction. I am hyper alert, talkative and frankly a little manic.

This time, like the last time, I am demanding popsicles. Unlike last time, recovery has plenty of them.

Also, in place of breasts, I have two incisions and a pair of tubes coming down into some drainage sacks that will collect the fluid for the next seven days.  Not as gross as you think.

  

  

I am due to be here overnight. If I can walk myself to the bathroom, don't throw up, and my stats stay normal I will be released tomorrow, which almost seems too short. But as the infamous  Dr. Larry Levy  (father of one of my best friends Beth) says, "The longer you stay in the hospital the more likely you are to get sick. Get out as soon as you can."

After a couple of hours in normal recovery, they roll me down to TRU East, or the Transitional Recovery Unit. And it isn't until I get there that I realize I now have a IV in my right foot as well as my left arm Also, my little energy rush is starting to hit a wall.

As the meds start to wear off, I become increasingly aware of where my pain is located. While my chest feels super tight, its not too bad. But when I move there is a sensation  on my left side that feels similar to a popped blister that is being rubbed raw.  It blows. Hard. But thankfully it's time for my medication again, and as it's gong in my IV, sorry... what was I..? Zzzzzzzzzzzz... 

Somehow it's 6 p.m., and this is one of the longest and shortest days of my life. I've been fading in and out, with giant bursts of energy followed by dropping into sleep. I feel like I have narcolepsy. My friend Anna swings by to say hello, as Collin decides to head down to the cafeteria to get some food.  Because I am on a regular diet the one restriction being caffeine, I ask him to get me a snack and  in my drug induced semi-haze, I commandeer poor Anna's seltzer water. 

I am so grateful to see her friendly face, but Anna I owe you an apology, because I can barely remember what we talked about. I slam down her water and everything gets hazy againnnnnnn.

And full Black Out.

 

17. And a day later I am let out on my own recognisance

17. And a day later I am let out on my own recognisance

15. It's D day, or as my husband affectionately calls it "Double D Day"

15. It's D day, or as my husband affectionately calls it "Double D Day"