Monthly Archives: November 2008

Over the weekend, I gradually felt better leaving the house more frequently. I felt bored and irritable and ready to be back at home. On Sunday (November 30th), E and I even ventured into Cleveland proper to meet up with some acquaintances and have dinner.

At one point during the weekend, the toilet in our room pretty much exploded. The hotel staff couldn’t find their plunger (?!), so we were just moved next door.

I have never felt so disgusting in my entire life. I’ve never been the kind of guy who has to shower every day, or even every other day. Still, I’m wondering how much Great Clips would charge just to wash my hair. I’m already looking forward to my first shower, when I can just scrape the grunge off of my body.

My throat hurts and my chest keeps tingling weirdly–the nerves are reconnecting, I guess. The drains are driving me insane, but my left side is still draining about 30cc per day.

I did poop today, though. Supposedly, that’s a good thing. But I’d almost rather be constipated; it’s really difficult to reach around and wipe my own ass.

Cognitively, I know that surgery is over. But I can’t see my chest yet, so it doesn’t feel real. It just seems like I’m feeling really shitty and out-of-it, and surgery hasn’t happened yet.

And then sometimes, it sinks in briefly, and I get excited at the prospect of looking normal in a few weeks.

E and I went out again, and someone asked for my ID when I presented my card, since I don’t look like I could be [birth name]. But, I haven’t been able to afford to change my name yet, so I’ll just have to keep making that Johnny Cash joke for a while longer.

There is a blood loogie in one of my drains. It’s so gross. It’s just dangling there, halfway out of the drain and halfway into the bulb–shivering.

Also, arnica gel totally works. My bruise is already several shades lighter than it was yesterday. When I woke up this morning, I hadn’t drained much, except my left side drain had 15mL of disgusting yellowish fluid (lymph?) in it.

I feel physically a lot better; I’m awake for longer periods at a time, and feeling less queasy. My throat still hurts horribly, and my torso is a bit sore, but I’m not in any pain, really.

Getting in and out of bed without using my arms is difficult. My abdominals are getting quite a workout these days.

I was more coherent today, taking fewer pain killers, playing around on the internet, and even leaving the hotel for a bit with E for coffee and dinner.

I drained 30cc on each side. The fluid smells disgusting. It’s pinkish red, and often has a film of transparent clear liquid on top.

I can’t really wrap my mind around the fact that underneath this binder and the foam, there aren’t any boobs. I’ll never see those boobs again. I look an uncomfortable lot like a sausage in this binder.

I took something to help me poop, because apparently pain killers make one constipated. I also picked up some arnica gel for the bruise on my left side. E is putting it on me when we empty the drains.

We made it to the surgery center perfectly on time.  I signed in and sat down in the waiting room.  For some reason, it was really strange to me that there would be a waiting room.  A nurse came and took me and E back, where my vitals were taken, and my street clothes and all my body jewelry were put in a locker.  I was taken even further back into the building and sat onto a hospital bed where E and I waited for Dr. Medalie.

The surgeon came in and we all made small talk while he drew on my chest in a purple marker.  I felt self-conscious of having E and some stranger seeing my bare chest, even though I knew it was silly.

Then, E went out to the waiting room, and the anesthesiologist came in to speak to me.  I was joking with him that, instead of being nervous about the surgery itself, I was more worried about the IV, since I figured I wouldn’t really feel anything after that anyway.

He said that, if I liked, I could just go back to the operating room, and I could be gassed on the operating table.  I was actually really curious about how the OR would look, so I walked back, trying to keep my bare ass covered by the gown.  It was pretty small, and clean, and there was a big table in the middle of it for me.  It had a big leather strap, which I assume was to strap my legs down; that made me nervous, so I stopped thinking about it.

I hopped up onto the operating table and laid my head back.  One of the nurses put these really warm things around my legs, presumably to improve circulation.  Then a mask was put over my face, and they turned on the gas–which smelled pretty gross.  I started to get really nervous, so I began to silently chant “Nam Myoho Renge Kyo”.  I made it through two of them, was too tired to start another, mumbled something to the nurse, and then nothing.

I think I woke up once in recovery, registered that I was alive and that I wasn’t in pain, exchanged a few words with a really nice nurse, and went back to sleep.  The next time I woke up, E was next to me.  He told me that the whole surgery had taken almost exactly two hours, and that Dr. Medalie had come out afterwards and told him that it was “a piece of cake”.  I think a little bit more pain medicine was given to me intravenously, and I was given two Vicodin.  I was really freaked out by the IV, and I was glad when it was taken out.

Soon after that, E helped me get back into my clothes and helped me put my body jewelry back in.  I waited for him to pull the car up to the door and help me outside and into the car.  I had never felt so tired in my life and I was freezing cold.  I remained awake for the entire drive back to Mentor (around 45 minutes, I think), because I was terrified of us getting into a car wreck and my chest being damaged.

I spent the rest of that first day sleeping in four hour shifts, only waking up to use the bathroom, empty my drains, and take more Vicodin. I noticed a rapidly purpling bruise peeking out of my post-surgical vest on the back left side, up by my armpit.  It was the only place I felt pain, because the foam that was between the binder and my chest stuck out a little on that side and would press into the bruise whenever I put my   My throat hurt massively, presumably from the breathing tube.