15. Morphine Dreams
The next thing I know a man is calling my name and saying, ‘we are just giving you some morphine for the pain.’
Sure! Whatever you like. I can’t feel any pain!
I wake to find I am in a two-bed ward and my husband is standing near the bed. I have a blood pressure monitor on my arm, a pulse clip on my finger and tubes up my nose and a drip in my arm. And I feel pretty darn good! I am warm and comfortable and I am out of surgery, in one piece.
My husband tells me snippets of information and I think I ask him the same questions over and over. Fortunately he’s really patient. He massages my feet and legs for ages and it feels divine. Our son comes to visit. It’s great to see him and his girlfriend. She’s had her own pre-admission today, she’s having surgery tomorrow for a cyst she needs removed.
I feel like I’m awake and sparking on all cylinders, but apparently I’m very entertaining, repeating things and drifting in and out of sleep. I glance down inside the neck of my hospital gown and things seem pretty normal from this point of view. Apart from my skin looking blue where they injected the dye during surgery to find the lymph nodes. I can see two reasonably small clear waterproof dressings, not swathes of dressings covering my chest.
At around 6pm I tell my visitors to go home, they’ve had a long day and I’m happy to sleep. I feel very content and more sleep sounds inviting. I’m not really hungry but am allowed to sip water. I get them to buy me some Sprite, as I am thirsty. Later I am brought sandwiches. I think it takes me about an hour to eat them. I take a bite and try to chew with my dry mouth. Then I have a sip of drink. Next thing I know I open my eyes and have the sandwich in my hand, with a bite out of it. I must have drifted off to sleep again.
The night is punctuated by visits from the nurse doing my ‘obs’. At some point I need to go to the bathroom so she unhooks the drip and I wobble off to the bathroom. Yes, they were right, I would be peeing blue dye for 24 hours or so!
I sleep again and wake just before dawn. I can sense the sky is lightening. I have a window that shows me the sky and some trees. As dawn breaks I can see beautiful autumn leaves, orange and red. I feel blessed to wake to such a beautiful scene, knowing my surgery is behind me.
Breakfast arrives and cornflakes and cold toast have never tasted so good! I chat with my roommate Debbie and we swap stories. My husband eventually arrives. The surgeon sometimes visits Saturdays, but as there are only two of her patients in overnight, the registrar will come up later. She tells the nurses if they are happy with our progress, we are allowed to go home. I am delighted to go home, though my stay here has been good too. I manage to get dressed and we go through the usual paperwork and I walk out to our car in the street. I stand in the street and take in the view. Trees, clouds scudding by and I inhale fresh air. It feels wonderful. We text our eldest daughter saying I’m on the way home and would she like to Skype. The response is immediate; ‘YES YES YES’. In 30 minutes I am in front of the computer seeing my gorgeous girl in Boulder Colorado and assuring her that I am fine. She is amazed how ‘perky’ I sound.
Life is good. I am home in familiar territory with my husband and son. I still have my breast. The results are still six days away, but for now I am in a very good place and the last 24 hours have mostly been a positive experience. We will deal with Thursday when we get to it.