Wednesday morning, I carefully followed all of the pre-surgical instructions. Well, almost all. Certainly when they said 'No Make-Up', they weren't referring to eye liner and mascara. That'd just be ridiculous.
A small portion of my thoughts were centered on the excited anticipation of realizing another dream. But then I'd find myself on an irrational thought loop: I'm going to be lying on a surgical table completely exposed to a room full of medical professionals and unable to suck in my stomach. What will they do with my roll of skin after it's removed? What if I'm under just enough anesthesia where I can't move or respond, but not enough to where I don't feel him do the surgery? What if I throw up? What if he puts my brand new belly button up too high? Or worse, too low? You get the idea. Worst case scenarios are my specialty.
Before we left, I shared some of my concerns with Ron and Zac. Huge mistake. What started out as a simple question turned into the great belly button debate that had me briefly contemplating asking the doctor to leave me belly button free until Zac suggested that no belly button at all might give the illusion of constant camel toe. Well that settles that.
Before I could finish my inner shudder, Ron chimed in with, "I'm more concerned with how far your vagina might get pulled up." ....silence....
I've tried to come up with an explanation for what he said. I've got nothin. Clearly, there was a massive break down in communication somewhere along the way.
We left for the Ohio Valley Medical Center in Springfield. I need to take a minute to praise that place. Ron and I have each had procedures done there and we have yet to have a negative experience as far as the surgical center goes. It runs like clockwork. The staff is incredible from the time you enter to the time you leave and everything in between. They treat you like you're their only patient and this time was no different. I highly recommend it.
We arrived at 11, by 11:30 I was in a room hooked up to my iv and at 11:45 the anesthesiologist walked in. It was the same man who took incredible care of me during my C-section for Caymen and I'll never forget him. Nothing like receiving a little pre-surgical hug from God, right? He explained everything he'd be doing during the surgery. I shared my concerns about anesthesia and he assured me he'll know exactly how far I'm under at all times. I also told him it's extremely common for me to throw up when I'm coming out of anesthesia and the mere thought of vomiting after this particular procedure had me scared to death. He calmed my nerves and explained the precautionary steps he'd take to ensure I wouldn't get sick.
Then he told us about a patient he had on the table once who had a hernia removed. Just as they closed his incision, he became violently ill and all of his stitches tore open. I said, "That doesn't really make me feel better." He replied, "Oh, that won't happen to you. He was young and muscular."
Thanks, dude. Does your wife call you Chuckles, per chance?
Around 12:15, my doctor came in to see me, reviewed everything he was going to do and then asked if we had any questions. I darted my eyes toward Ron and silently willed him not to say vagina.
Shortly after, I was being wheeled away from my husband toward a full abdominoplasty that could take up to 3 hours. Mine ended up taking roughly 2. I hope to learn more details of what my personal procedure entailed at my follow up appointment and share those in my next post.
The next thing I knew, I woke up sitting at an angle. The throbbing sensation in my abs immediately reminded me where I was and the nurse asked me to rate my pain. I said the first thing that popped into my mind, "It hurts like a mother." And with that, she pumped me full of morphine and I returned to a happy place where I could eat saltine crackers, drink water and go to the bathroom...because urination is the magic key to getting discharged after surgery.
She released the wrap and through morphine goggles, I think I saw a smooth stomach and just maybe the most perfectly placed brand new belly-button a girl could ask for. But she quickly wrapped it back up tight and we're under strict orders to keep it that way until my first follow-up appointment on Wednesday.
By 3:30, I was being wheeled out to our van with a fresh carnation in hand as a sweet parting gift.
All surgery concerns appear to have been unfounded. I'm pretty sure I stayed asleep during surgery, I never threw up, I couldn't care less what they did with my roll, from the brief blurry glimpse I got, it seems the doctor can be trusted with belly button placement and on return from my first trip to the bathroom, I gave Ron a thumbs up. Breathe easy, fella...everything below stayed put and I still pee sitting down.
Onto the next stage.
To Be Continued...
*Please attribute any typos to the periodic doses of Vicodin I'm still under...as for any offensive personal details, that was probably all me.