The gastric bypass operation took place on Friday, December 11, 2009. Pre-op was pretty uneventful. They put an IV in me, and I told the anaesthesiologist about problems I'd had before with nausea and with surpressed breathing response during recovery. My wife came into the pre-op room and checked on me, then the nurses wheeled me away.
I don't remember anything about the operation, and I don't remember much of the recovery room. I remember being groggy, and I remember having a urinary catheter and some other tubes sticking out of me. Everything else is a blur, until some point later in the day when I found myself in my hospital room.
The uneventfulness continued through Saturday until a couple of hours before my discharge from the hospital. I was still in pain, but I didn't feel like it was unusually bad pain. I remember telling a nurse that I felt like I was about to have an anxiety attack. They gave me something for it, and I calmed down shortly afterward. No one thought that anything out of the ordinary was going on.
The problem is that something very bad was happening inside of me. Things would get much, much worse within the next 24 hours.
No comments:
Post a Comment