Having your first surgery at 44 poses its own set of questions/challenges/risks/whatever you want to call them. I call them “I’m the biggest baby in the world, so I’m freaking out no matter what” things. 1. I’m scared to death of death. So being put under general anesthesia – basically the CLOSEST THING TO DEATH BESIDES DEATH – is not on my bucket list right now. 2. I have sleep apnea so let’s just ADD SOME MORE INSANITY TO THAT FEAR. 3. I’m overweight so let’s just ADD SOME MORE INSANITY TO THAT FEAR. 4. I’ve never been put under for anything so let’s just ADD SOME MORE INSANITY TO THAT FEAR. Seriously, I could go on like this all day.
After talking to a few people about my IRRATIONAL FEAR OF BEING PUT UNDER (yes, I type like I talk and I talk like I type) I calmed down quite a bit. Many of the folks I talked to who had surgeries before actually liked the anesthesia. Some said it was the best sleep they ever had, some likened the relaxation stuff they give you in the IV prior to being put to sleep to the happy gas they give you at the dentist, some said they don’t remember a thing therefore they love it. A few people said they didn’t like it or had bad reactions to it, but they were far and few between. I absolutely LOVE the gas at the dentist and the more people I talked to, the more I got the impression that was how I was going to feel before I even got fully under so I was ok by the time I got to surgery yesterday. Or so I thought.
I was pretty ok during check in and pre-op. I lost it a little when the anesthesiologist came in and started talking to me about the tube down my throat. For some idiotic reason I figured I would have a mask on. But, they can’t very well do surgery on my sinuses up through my nasal cavities if I’m wearing a mask, can they? So when he started mentioning a tube down my throat and stuff, I lost it a bit until Daniel was able to come back with me after they got my IV started. Daniel always calms me down.
They had my IV in they gave me propranolol well before taking me into surgery, but I don’t think it was enough. I thought I would be ‘dentist happy-gas relaxed’ by the time I got to the OR and I wouldn’t care what they did with me (pretty much how I feel at the dentist when I’m on that stuff), but when I got to the OR I was quite aware and scared of what was going on when they started sticking monitors on me and I could hear things start beeping. Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope. I wasn’t having it and I was petrified. I was not relaxed and told them – I also burst into tears. I heard someone ask if I had been given propranolol and someone else said yes. I yelled, “Not enough!” and asked for more. That’s the last thing I remember before waking up.
The next thing I know I was waking up to a bunch of people hovering over me saying, “It’s all over. You did great. See? It was nothing.” And whisking me somewhere else. They were right. It was easy, painless, and awesome. But I definitely needed more propranolol before going into that OR. Oh my word, that was scary as hell!
