Met the team that was operating on me. One was an Australian. There were 4 men and one woman (the anesthetist). Gilligan was there too.
The operation was supposed to take only 3 hours, but it actually took 4. Dr. Yogi was able to clear away some of the tumour that was around the spinal cord area, but he had difficulty getting more out because it was bleeding so heavily. So he had to stop. But the rods are in there, so now I have a bionic back.
Upon coming out of sedation, the first thing I did was wiggle my toes and thank the lord I wasn’t paralyzed. While in the recovery room, the anesthetic started to wear off and the neurons in my body all started firing pain signals at once. First, it was in my left hand, then my left foot, right foot and right hand. The closest thing I can use to describe it would be that my right hand felt like a latex glove that someone was blowing up. I screamed and screamed and screamed. Then I was certain that when this was all over, I was going to be paralyzed for sure. The screaming continued for a good 10 minutes (my brother-in-law, timed it). Hence, I was given the name, “The Screamer” by the staff. (days later, one of the ladies who delivers water at night, came to my private room, looked at me and said, “Hey, aren’t you the one who was in room 110, The Screamer”. “Yes,” I answered, “That would be me”. I got a private room pretty fast after that performance, don’t you think?” (Interestingly enough, they got another similar performance from me on my way out of the hospital too).
Angela (the mother of one of my previous students), offered to stay with me the first night and I was extremely lucky she did. I had a nurse with an attitude that first night. I kept telling her that something was wrong with the catheter (she continuously ignored the fact that it was full because she was didn’t want to change it and left it till the next nurse came in in the morning). I fell asleep for a while, but then, I woke up in a panic. I was throwing up and choking on my own vomit because I couldn’t move to get myself up. I pushed the call button. Would you like to know what time she arrived? 45 minutes later. Thank heavens Angela was there. She knew just what to do. She grabbed the barf bucket and propped me up quick. If I had to have waited for that nurse to answer the call button, I would have been dead for sure. I was asphyxiating on my own vomit. I went back to sleep. But not for long. All of the sudden, I was scratching my back and head like crazy. Angela came and took a look at me. Then she grabbed a wet facecloth and started rubbing my back. All this pink stuff came off. “What is that?”, we asked ourselves. “I don’t know, but it’s really freaking itchy!” Angela wiped me down about 3 times until the itchiness subsided. I fell asleep. Unfortunately the doctors don’t want you to get addicted to the drugs, so the oxycocet narcotic only lasts for 2 hours. How ridiculous is that? How can you get a good night sleep when you need pain medications every 2 hours? And they only give you one pill at a time. As soon as you use it, you are suppose to call for the nurse to bring you another one. Angela and my sisters who spent the next couple of nights with me ended up chasing the nurses for my medications every 2 hours. If they weren’t there, how would I have gotten my pain medications?