Operation Day

I finally felt the feeling of nervous. It came in spurts. The first sput was when we drove on the highway around the bend that would mark the beginning of the city the hospital was in. That lasted about 5 minutes.  The second spurt was when we were within view of the hospital. That lasted for about 15 minutes, until I was admitted into the hospital.

Actually, we were meeting my husband, and I was talking on the phone with him. He asked if I was nervous yet. My response, "yes. Either that or I am really excited,". We laughed at that, but seeing my inside shakes like that made a big difference in our attitude. If you think about it, nervous and excited have the same symptoms. It is the thoughts attached to them that causes us to interpret how we feel as one or the other.

The next spurt of shaky inside was when I realized that time had flown, and my operation time was in only 20 minutes. That lasted only about three minutes. My last spurt was 5 minutes before operation time. That lasted only a minute, ending when we were told it would be another hour or so.  It was 2 hours and 15 minutes later, but I decided being nervous was a waste of energy.

My family was invited into my private waiting room. I was in my hospital gown and laying in bed, waiting to be wheeled into the operating room. The nurse put a soft air pad with warm air flowing through it and a thin blanket that covered it on me. She started an IV into the backside of my left hand and started a fluid which prepared my kidney somehow. About an hour later she added a calming drug. I didn't notice any difference in how I felt, but it is true that I wasn't nervous when she wheeled me into the operating room.

I remember being wheeled up next to a table or bed. I remember two huge lights above, two people I could see, and one walking across the room. I remember asking if I would be climbing onto the table myself and if they would warn me before I was put out. Both answers were "yes". The next thing I remember is dreaming about cartoon bears in bubbles, then being woken up.

Apparently one of the drugs they gave me was an amnesia drug to keep my short term memory from becoming long term memory, which helps with a sense of peace. They later told me that I was fully awake for moving to the table and also when they told me they would be putting me out.

I slept in the recovery room for about a half hour after surgery before waking up. The male attending nurse woke me up by talking to me. I started asking a bunch of questions, but he didn't answer, and instead turned to make a report about me to another nurse. I was sad that apparently he thought I was just mumbling in my half asleep stage, which was confirmed when he told her I was still really groggy. I then heard him tell her one of my arteries was cut. At that time, all my previous questions, except my inquiries about my recipient, were gone, and I was content to believe I really was just mumbling nonsense. I was more curious about my report.

It turns out that this doesn't happen very often, but in my case an artery was nicked, and I lost about a cup of blood. That is not enough for a blood transfusion, but they wanted to check my hemoglobin and hematocrit levels every 4 hours. After faithfully testing about 5 times, my counts went up at the first test, and were found stabilized for the next several tests.

I have three 1-inch incisions (varying sizes) for their camera and tools, each cut side to side, all lined up (one above another) in the center of my abdomen under my ribs, stomach, and above my belly button. Then I have a six inch incision near the bikini fold, so it looks like a cesarean section scar, maybe a bit smaller, where the surgeon inserted his hand and guided the kidney out.

For the surgery I had a breathing tube, but was lucky enough to not have a sore throat from it. They did leave a clip on my nose to assist with oxygen. I had a catheter. I also had a button to push for dripping pain medication into my IV, no less than every half hour and no more than once every 5 minutes. It was a controlled narcotic.

I never felt loopy. I was as talkative as ever with all my silly ways of communicating. I was very clear, and very me, although quieter.

Operation Day, continued

The happiest part of my day was when visitors from 7 doors down the hall came to visit. My recipient friend's husband, his mother, and my recipient's father came to meet me, thank me, and brought flowers... A dozen fuchia roses wth yellow lilies, most of which will be opening once I get home, and purple flox. They were still waiting for my friend to wake up in the recovery room. It would take her about two hours of sleeping before waking up. This is normal for the recipient. I wasn't even sleepy anymore.

Later that evening I had some pain on my neck near my shoulder. That, they said, was normal. When they operate, they pump air into my body so that they can see where they are going and navigate the tools. The pain, pinching really, was the air moving to escape. It just felt like the muscle between my neck and shoulder needed a massage and a pinch in my neck.

Something I have very much enjoyed are the compression bubbles on my lower legs. They were put on me before being wheeled into the operation room. They wrap around my calves and have a tube coming from each leg that hooks into a pump. The pump pumps air into the bubbles around my legs to squeeze one for 5 second, then releases, then squeezes the next leg, then releases. It is meant to keep my blood and fluids moving during the operation and recovery so there is no pooling. I love the massage and keep it going all the time, including while I sleep. Others can't stand it, and after the operation it is optional.

As I was about to get into bed, there was no warning...I had to throw up right now. When it came out, it was only 5 soft burps. After they were expelled, no more nausea. Belching and gas from the other end are celebrated here, because it is an indication that the insides are waking up from the anesthesia. As I reclined my seat into a bed, I had another horrible and sudden wave of nausea. This time it was not gentle burps. My body heaved, only to produce a hard, raspy belch. I decided to sleep in a half sitting position.

That night I was awake every hour to push my pain med button for my IV, every 2 hours for my vitals to be taken, every 4 hours for a vial of blood to be sure my body was healing from the artery nick, and several times when my IV beeped to let us know that there was air in the tube or my IV had to be changed out. I was always surprised that I could get back to sleep just fine.