I woke up in Recovery. Immediately, I tried to get out of bed, which is marginally better and worse than the last time I cam out of anaesthetic. I was maybe ten years old, just woke up from having my ears pinned back and the first thing that I did was vomit over the side of the bed. Yep, at least this time I didn’t puke. I just freaked out the staff working in Recovery when I tried to get out of bed.
I remember looking at the clock and thinking, ‘is that really the time?’ and then stressing in my mind about what was going to happen on the Tuesday when I was scheduled to be back at work. Needless to say, I did not make it there, but it was definitely going through my very fuzzy thoughts. I wasn’t awake for that long, because I just couldn’t handle all of the lights so I closed my eyes again.
The next time I woke up, they were wheeling me to the High Dependency Ward (HDU). I am not sure what time it was, however I have since learned that the surgery took over five hours to complete. It wouldn’t be until the next day that I comprehended what had actually happened during that time. On the way to the HDU, I was told that my sister and my father were waiting for me. That didn’t make any sense to my anaesthetically numbed brain. “No, she’s not supposed to be here,” I said, referring to my sister. The last I had heard about her, she was still in Adelaide and I didn’t think that she was coming over. I repeated that as they brought me into the ward. She was there, along with our father and his partner. I looked at her and told her exactly that: “You’re not supposed to be here.” I even said it multiple times because I couldn’t comprehend how she had gotten there, at least so fast. It didn’t make any sense. She was telling me that our mother and her husband would be over the next day and that didn’t sink in either. Nothing was making sense.
After they got me settled on the ward, I am pretty sure that the doctors explained to my sister what had happened, what my recovery might look like and what they were possibly going to see in the early stages of my recovery.
At this stage though, it was all a blur. I remember waking up several times throughout the night. I am a restless sleeper at the best of times, so this wasn’t something that I was concerned about, although waking up with leads attached to me was definitely something that was new for me. In my brain, I kept thinking, “no, this isn’t right, this can’t be real” or that it was just a dream, and when I woke up again, I’d be in my bed at home and all this was some hyper real nightmare. Of course, that didn’t happen and I had to get used to the fact that it was real, that this had happened and I was going to have to deal with the consequences, whatever that might be. Of course, that didn’t stop the dreams from happening, but at least when I woke up, I was aware of the difference between the dream and reality.
That night, the pain that was in my head was still pretty bad, but I was told quickly that it was to be expected, after all, there was still blood that would drain itself away as time passed. It just meant that, especially in those early days, no matter where I lay my head, I felt pain as soon as my head hit the pillow. There was nothing that I could do about the pain except take the medication when it was administered and rest as much as I could.
I remember looking at the clock and thinking, ‘is that really the time?’ and then stressing in my mind about what was going to happen on the Tuesday when I was scheduled to be back at work. Needless to say, I did not make it there, but it was definitely going through my very fuzzy thoughts. I wasn’t awake for that long, because I just couldn’t handle all of the lights so I closed my eyes again.
The next time I woke up, they were wheeling me to the High Dependency Ward (HDU). I am not sure what time it was, however I have since learned that the surgery took over five hours to complete. It wouldn’t be until the next day that I comprehended what had actually happened during that time. On the way to the HDU, I was told that my sister and my father were waiting for me. That didn’t make any sense to my anaesthetically numbed brain. “No, she’s not supposed to be here,” I said, referring to my sister. The last I had heard about her, she was still in Adelaide and I didn’t think that she was coming over. I repeated that as they brought me into the ward. She was there, along with our father and his partner. I looked at her and told her exactly that: “You’re not supposed to be here.” I even said it multiple times because I couldn’t comprehend how she had gotten there, at least so fast. It didn’t make any sense. She was telling me that our mother and her husband would be over the next day and that didn’t sink in either. Nothing was making sense.
After they got me settled on the ward, I am pretty sure that the doctors explained to my sister what had happened, what my recovery might look like and what they were possibly going to see in the early stages of my recovery.
At this stage though, it was all a blur. I remember waking up several times throughout the night. I am a restless sleeper at the best of times, so this wasn’t something that I was concerned about, although waking up with leads attached to me was definitely something that was new for me. In my brain, I kept thinking, “no, this isn’t right, this can’t be real” or that it was just a dream, and when I woke up again, I’d be in my bed at home and all this was some hyper real nightmare. Of course, that didn’t happen and I had to get used to the fact that it was real, that this had happened and I was going to have to deal with the consequences, whatever that might be. Of course, that didn’t stop the dreams from happening, but at least when I woke up, I was aware of the difference between the dream and reality.
That night, the pain that was in my head was still pretty bad, but I was told quickly that it was to be expected, after all, there was still blood that would drain itself away as time passed. It just meant that, especially in those early days, no matter where I lay my head, I felt pain as soon as my head hit the pillow. There was nothing that I could do about the pain except take the medication when it was administered and rest as much as I could.