An Imperfect Science

Yes, I have gone blog happy. And yes, this is another post about my voice.. lame, right?

Surgery is said to be an imperfect science. I even read a book on just that topic last year. Those horror stories would not leave my mind as I lay waiting for a nurse to take me to the OR. Doctors who go into surgery drunk, cut corners, slip some prescription drugs for themselves. I had no idea what to expect.. none whatsoever. Nothing the nurses or doctors told me really made me feel better about being knocked out and my vocal cords being sliced up. Sure, those of you who have had surgery know what it's like... but it was difficult dealing with this situation, not knowing exactly how everything was going to work out.
I checked in a little before 8:00 am and got my sweet hospital bracelet. A nurse led me into a temporary room where I changed into a hospital gown (one of my worst anxieties) and I waited. And waited. Finally, two nurses came in and checked my heart and lungs, and finally... dun dun dun... put in my IV. I thought it was pretty cool! I watched the whole thing. After the nurses left, my parents asked why I had watched... I guess I just couldn't take my eyes off of that large needle getting jammed into my vein. I waited for another half hour, until another nurse came and got me and took us to a "pod" to meet with the two doctors.
The anesthesiologst came in first and talked about general anesthesia and what would happen. Then Dr. Smith came in, the doctor who was actually going to perform the surgery. Blah blah blah. Doctor talk. Then the anesthesiologist gave me a patch behind my ear to help with the nausea that usually occurs in younger girls (i.e. me). While he was wheeling me to the OR, my body started feeling like jello, because he had "slipped" me some stuff when I wasn't looking. IT FELT SO WEIRD! I got into the OR, and they strapped down my arms and put some charger things on me to gauge my heart rate and breath rate. I think they then put a mask on me.. but at about this time... I WAS OUT. It was crazy how fast it happened.
I then woke up in recovery... the absolute worst part of the whole experience. My throat hurt extremely bad, and my mom wasn't there with me. I kinda woke up, but I didn't have my glasses on, which probably made my nausea worse. I was probably in that room, half asleep, for about an hour and a half while they tried to get my pain under control. Finally they took me to a real room, and I got to see my mom and dad.
By the time I left the hospital it was 4:30 pm, and they had given me every kind of nausea medicine they could. The last resort medicine was a shot, but they said it always worked. And it did! I was so happy not to be dizzy and confused. And I was on oxygen... I felt old. Every time I fell asleep, the oxygen or blood pressure bell would go off. Let's just say that the rest in the hospital wasn't the most relaxing I've ever had.
OH! And crazy business... I didn't even have a cyst. What? Once Dr. Smith got down there with a scope and laser, he realized that I had a depression on one side that was causing major nodules. So instead of removing a cyst, he reconstructed my vocal cord and removed a couple of nodules. Isn't that awesome? Doctors amaze me.. he was not prepared for that, but he fixed it without much trouble.. my surgery just went about half an hour longer than predicted. Although surgery is not perfect, and things are always changing... we have some pretty impressive doctors out there.

P.S. I was worried (irrationally) that the anesthesiologist would lose track of how much he had given me and it would kill me. Good news; I'm not dead.