They found stage 3 endometriosis. 

We were up at 5:30 this morning and left the hotel at 6. It was an 8 minute walk to the hospital. There was a Dunkin Donuts in the lobby of the hospital. Too bad I couldn’t eat or drink anything! 

Up to the 7th floor for registration. We waited about 15 minutes to be called in. After another 15 minutes, we were all set and taken down the hall to the patient rooms where I met my nurses for the day. We went down to my room where I had blood drawn and then changed into my hospital fashion gown, no-skid yellow socks, and blue shower cap. They had to do the blood draw from the top of my right hand instead of the inside elbow because they couldn’t find a vein. 

After changing and the blood draw, we sat back and watched tv for about a half hour in the hospital room before bringing a gurney to take me downstairs to the OR on the 4th floor a little after 7. This is where we waited and waited and waited. Procedure was scheduled for 7:45am and I was the first case. Nurse came. I signed consents. The anesthesiologist came. More consents. Nurse came by again to say Dr. V would be fashionably late. A general surgeon who always assists Dr. V with these cases came by to introduce himself. I overheard the staff saying he lives in NYC and rides a motorcycle to the hospital. Remember the tattoos I mentioned in the last post?

The anesthesiologist went ahead and started my IV and had to come back later to slow the drip since the doctor was running late. 

So, he finally arrives, once again wearing his converse, pink pants, and a black polo. Filled out some paperwork and came to me for more consents to be signed and showed us pictures on his phone when he went home to Italy recently to see family. He made a joke about changing out of his pink pants before surgery and was gone. 

Husband kissed me goodbye and I was rolled into the OR. I moved over to the operating table and just as the nurse, who was at my feet, got me where she needed me, the anesthesiologist asked me to scoot up towers her, as she was standing just over my head. In addition to the laparoscopy, I was having a hysteroscopy first. I’ve had two hysteroscopies before and know that the place you in just the right spot because once you are out, they remove a portion of the lower half. My eyes went back and forth as they had a short discussion. Poor nurse gave up and I moved about 2 inches. An oxygen mask was placed over my face and they asked me to take a few deep breaths and I was out. 

I woke up in recovery feeling pretty groggy, but that soon wore off. The nurse came to check on me and I was close to begging for ice chips. She said I had to wait 10 more minutes. I would make myself open my eyes to look around, thinking that I would wake up faster. Don’t laugh! I was drugged. She had just put my glasses back on, which just reminded me of something! 

The same nurse upset about the anesthesiologist wanting to move me was irritated as she noticed I still had my glasses on as they rolled me into the OR. She rolled her eyes, mentioning how hard this was going to make things. They took them off just as they were placing the oxygen mask over my face and I saw someone just standing there holding my glasses.  If you know how bad my eyesight is (-8.5 right eye, -7.5 left eye) then you also know how close he had to be for me to see that out of the corner of my eye. The last thing I remember was thinking it was weird.

Finally the ice chips! She gave me a spoonful, placed them out of reach, and promptly walked away. Came by later and gave me another spoonful. About that same time, they let Husband come back. The bandages over my incisions were checked (there are 4 tiny ones they just glued), I was given a 3rd spoonful of ice chips, and and the doctor came out to talk to us. He said that extensive lesions were found and that he removed the scar tissue that had connected my right ovary to the top of my uterus. Dr. V seemed pleased. The way he put it, removing the lesions is just like peeling the skin off chicken. I was just relieved that I wasn’t the one out of ten where they go in and find nothing. 

He wished us well and moved on to the next case. Before leaving, he told me that he would call me tomorrow. I was taken back up to the 7th floor and into my original room from earlier in the morning. I went straight to the restroom and was able to check that off the list for discharge. Next, they brought me 2 bottles of water, an apple juice (they offered a second juice, which I accepted. Love me some apple juice!), and a cup of orange jello. Husband went out for an “amazing” lunch at a place the nurses recommended while I began my liquid feast. 

This was the condition of my hands post op. I knew they were going to do a second IV after I was out, but it appears as though they had a bit of trouble, as evidenced by the multiple pokes and bruising. 

I worked my way thru the drinks and jello while responding to texts, checking Facebook and calling my parents. Since Husband had stepped out, I had to call a nurse to get up for the bathroom. I went ahead and got dressed at the same time. When Husband returned, it was just a few minutes before we had set up an Uber to pick us up and drive the 6 blocks back to the hotel. It was 2pm when we arrived back to our room where Husband took a nap and I continued to text and Facebook. By 4pm I was ready to eat and Husband went out to get some soup. 

It’s been hours since I first began writing this post, as a Flip or Flop marathon has been on the television. After talking to my cousin, who is a nurse, I followed her instructions to take Gas x for the shoulder pain from having the carbon dioxide pumped into my abdomen for the procedure. It’s really the only pain I have felt all day. There is a little soreness at each of the incisions, but no aches. For good measure, I took an over the counter pain reliever earlier, as it was getting closer to bedtime. 

Husband just asked me if I was still writing. It has been 5 very distracting hours since I began this post. When I confirmed that, yes, I was still at it, he asked if I was writing a novel. I told him it will be by the time we finish this journey. He replied by saying he hopes it has a happy ending. 

I hope so, too.