(This Post was written after the fact and back dated, since I was in no condition to write on surgery day.)

I got to the hospital with my husband, D, at 8:30 AM on Thursday, February 6, 2014. I brought my Kindle, my laptop, my pillow, and a couple of pairs of underwear, as well as some loose fitting clothing.

D and I spent some time in the waiting room before being called back to an exam room, where I stripped down to nothing and put on a gown. I had showered the night before, washing my belly with special soap, and then showered again before heading to the hospital. I provided a urine sample where they confirmed that I was not pregnant (thank Frank!).

The staff were all very friendly and helpful. Per protocol they asked me my name and why I was there about a million times. I met briefly with the surgical nurse, my surgeon, my program director, the anesthesiologist, and the anesthesiologist’s assistant. I wasn’t nervous, though D definitely was. I answered some questions and signed some consent forms and eventually kissed D goodbye. The next thing I know, I was out.

There was no gradual progression toward sleep, no counting backward. I remember saying goodbye to my husband and then 1 second later I was being woken up, and I was in the most incredible pain of my life.

I had been expecting shoulder pain as a result of the gas leftover in your system, but for me the pain centered between my shoulder blades. It was as though I had slept with a large rock between my shoulder blades for an entire night. The pain was indescribable. I’m sure there was abdominal pain as well, but all I remember was my back. Despite the dilauded and toradol that they were pumping into my IV, I was never without the pain. It was impossible to get comfortable or to sleep very well, and nothing seemed to help.

My husband says that when I got to my room after the surgery I could barely open my eyes and I didn’t speak much. That seems about right. I don’t remember much about the rest of the day except that I was incredibly thirsty, in a lot of pain, and I kept getting woken up every 4 hours for the nurses to take my vitals (blood pressure, oxygenation, temperature). Oh, and I had compression sleeves on my legs to prevent blood clots.

I also remember the surgeon stopping by to tell me I did great and that tomorrow I would feel much better. Mostly I just drifted in and out of consciousness, always attempting, unsuccessfully, to find a comfortable sleeping position.