The past couple days

The past couple days have been interesting to say the least.

My mother flew in on Saturday night. Sunday I ended up not having to go over to church, so I went to my boyfriend's house for a while. Well, long story short, we fell asleep and awoke to a phone call from my mother wondering where I was. She comes over to Mike's and meets him, and it's very obvious that we had both gotten out of bed just recently. But did she judge? Well, hm. She probably did, but she didn't voice it. Nor did she voice it when we were lying together in the hotel room cuddling after my surgery.

As for that...

I got there, waited with Mom & Mike for a while. Then when they took me back, they rubbed my skin with sandpaper before sticking the electrodes on me. They put a big, HUGE rectangle one right between, and nearly covering, my tits. One on my back in aproximately the same spot. This way, if I died on the table, they'd be able to bring me right back. But I wasn't allowed to die on the table. They said it would have ruined their day, so they wouldn't let me. Trust me, I tried. So after the electrodes are on, they put on about 12, they tried to give me an IV. IN MY FUCKING HAND! Oh. My. God. That hurt like a son of a bitch. I refused to let them continue. I actually started crying. I never cry from IV's. Ever. But that one fucking hurt. I'm never doing that again. Screw that. I'd rather not be able to bend my entire fucking arm then have a goddamned IV in my hand.

So then they decided to give me a bikini shave. The nurse was surprised when she discovered I keep it relativly tame. They explained that they were going to go through my neck AND my leg. Wow, that fucking blows dude, lemme tell ya. I mean, fuck. They stuck 3 of these cathiters through my goddamn leg. IN THE SAME VEIN. And 3 in my neck. The ones in my neck though all entered through the same hole, so I am developing a lump under the skin on my neck because now that it's healing, there's air bubbles. It sucks. A lot. Way lots. Since they were running late, my surgery was scheduled for 11:30, they asked me if I wanted someone to come back with me. I told the nurse to tell Mom and Mike to decide amongst themselves because I really didn't want to get chastized for choosing. Mike comes walking in and he's laughing. "Your mom hates me. The nurse asked me if I wanted to come back or if your mom did, and your mom tells me 'Oh Mike just go. I can see my daughter whenever. You're just a passing fling.'"

We chatted for a bit and then he went and got my Mom. She comes back and tells me how everything's going to be fine, and she really doesn't hate Mike. "I don't know him well enough to hate Mike...but I did hate Edward within 2 sentences, so Mike's really doing good actually." Mom decided she was going to get some lunch and that she was going to go buy Mike lunch. I told her he'd throw a fit because he doesn't think he needs it...he doesn't want her to waste her money on him, etc. Those are, interestingly enough, the same reasons Mom refuses things from people. They're both 9's though. They wheeled me off to the O.R and Mom tells me as I'm going that she's going to go take the "boyfriend deu'jour" out to lunch.

Anyway, so they get me into the operating room and move me onto the table. Which is more comfortable than the stretcher I was on in the prep room. This was around 12:30 I finally got back there. They hooked me all up. Taped a penny to my back. Gave me some drugs, and we were good to go. The interesting thing, however, is that I was fully consious while this was happening. I just couldn't really feel it. Versid is a really good drug. I felt it though when they shoved the wires into my neck because they shot me up with lyticaine, but it hadn't taken effect. That was like a bee sting...the lyticaine shot was. Getting the wires into my neck was just ultimately too bizaare to comprehend. It felt so odd to have something snaking around under my skin....

So here I am, lying on this table that conforms perfectly to my body...one of those tempur-pedic beds, and they had raised me so I was 8 feet off the floor face to face with this gigantic Star Wars looking camera. This thing was bigger than my computer monitor. I wasn't allowed to move. I was pretty much high as a goddamn kite. No pillow, listening to Gwen Stefani merge into Pink on the local pop radio station.

The doctors weren't in the same room as me. They were in a completely seperate room where they could control me and watch me.

2 hours later, they lower me down, and the doctor lowered me down from the table and tells me that they shot me full of all the drugs they have, and even at 283 beats a minute, my heart would NOT start to go into it's SVT's or Atrial Fib. They wheeled me out to recovery where they just put bandaids on my wounds, and let me lay there for a while.

The doctors went out and told Mom and Mike what happened. Mom comes back and tells me that she and Mike were discussing it. He thought I'd be pissed. She thought I'd be in tears. Oh, she was so wrong. I was fucking livid. If I had more energy and I wasn't so stoned, I probably would have started bitching. But instead all I could do is lie there and drink this really watered down cranberry juice. They released me to go home at 4pm. After making sure I could walk, which was kind of difficult. I was soooooooo fucking stoned, holy shit. I had trouble doing much of anything.

We all went back to the hotel, and after discovering I just got my period, and taking care of it, I crashed. I just crawled into bed with Mike and passed out for 4 hours. We went to dinner, and then went back to the hotel, and I pretty much crashed for 9 hours. It was pretty nice.

So anyway, that's it. I have an apointment on Tuesday when we're going to discuss alternative surgery options, and maybe even pills.

Yay. I can't fucking wait.

It meant *so* much to me that Mike was there the whole time. I keep thanking him and he doesn't realize he did anything at all.