So I spent the majority of the lit day at the hospital, waiting for my D&C. We arrived at noon, and didn’t leave until 7pm! I am tempted to write a really long, negative post about how ridiculous the scheduling is at this hospital, but I won’t.
Instead, I will rave about the amazing care I received from the nursing staff after the procedure. First of all, I got hot blankets. Not just blankets that would warm me with time, but blankets that were kept warm in an oven of sorts. And I got as many hot blankets as I wanted. At one point, I had three such blankets warming me.
Second of all, the nurses seemed just as frustrated as we were with the scheduling and whereabouts of the doctors. For example, my RE was booked from 1- 3, and no one knew where he was until he randomly showed up at 5:15 to check in with me pre-op. We suspect that he went for a late lunch/early dinner at the expense of making me wait even longer. The nurses exclaimed “Oh there he is!” when he finally appeared.
The anaesthesiologist didn’t believe me when I told him that I metabolize anaesthetic really quickly, and everyone was shocked when I woke up while being wheeled away to the recovery room. Usually they expect people to “come to” an hour after being moved to the recovery room. The OR nurse nearly jumped out of his skin when I started talking to him.
In the recovery room, the machine monitoring my vitals was beeping non-stop. The nurses kept having to switch off the alarm, but it kept going off because of how low my heart rate was. The machines are programmed to alert them when the heart rate becomes lower than 50 beats per minute (bpm), as the average normal resting heart rate is somewhere between 60 bpm to 100 bpm. I’ve worn my heart rate monitor to bed a few times, and know that my resting heart rate hits a minimum of 35 bpm, and averages at about 42 bpm over the course of the night. In recovery, my heart rate was steady at about 44 bpm, which drove the monitors crazy! The nurses asked me if I worked out or played sports, because abnormally low heart rates are common for athletes. Our hearts are healthy and don’t need to work as hard while at rest. But the beeping- it drove us all nuts!
It was also during my recovery room time that I got not one, but TWO popsicles, and got called “sweety” and “pretty girl” a ridiculous number of times, which also made me happy. They were also the first people to ask about our pregnancy, and to recognize how difficult it must be to go through this.
During my mandatory time in recovery, I had soaked through two pads, and was given oxycodone and Tylenol for the pain (rated 3/10). The pain went away soon after, and then I was wheeled off to the front of the hospital where my chariot awaited. DW whisked me away and since I was starving, we went out for dinner. (*I must also mention that DW deserves an award for staying with me the entire time that I was waiting for surgery and after my recovery.)
I was feeling nauseous during the car ride, but my hunger trumped all other discomfort.
What did we eat? Not congee, which would be my usual sick-person comfort food. Not even Vietnamese Pho noodle soup would satisfy my palate.
My body was craving crispy-skinned, salty rotisserie chicken. So we went to Swiss Chalet, which is a chain of restaurants usually frequented by senior citizens. Like many of the patrons there, I was dressed in comfy clothes, looking forward to the “2 quarter chicken meals + appetizer + dessert for 19.99”, and was wearing a diaper.
Oh and now my chariot is whisking me away to the cottage for the weekend. Just like the Real Housewives of [Wherever], I have the luxury of recovering from my surgery in privacy and amongst beauty.