My myomectomy experience: Getting Ready

Today is the first day that I feel like my brain is able to focus enough in order to write.

Thanks for all the text messages, emails, phone calls, etc. I tried to keep up with them but, I have not been able to get back to everyone. Please forgive me. I am thankful to each of you that have reach out to me, said a prayer for me or even just thought about me. The first few days post-op are rough and I think I underestimated it all.

I was tempted to make this a short and sweet post, but as someone that has recently gone through this (actually I'm still going though this), I thought it might help another woman finding herself in a similar circumstance, should she happen to find her way to these series of blog posts. Let's start the day before surgery.

My doctor instructed me to have a big breakfast the day before surgery and at 2pm, I was to drink magnesium citrate, which is a saline laxative. The pharmacist at Walgreens suggested that I drink the lemon flavored one, since the cherry and grape flavor contained a dye that Doctors find annoying. It took me 20 mins to finish the small bottle. About 5 hours later, the effects took place. On the morning of the surgery, the solution was still working and I thought "Lord, please don't let me crap myself on the operating table."

The day of the surgery, I was not nervous at all. I spent most of the night washing, deep conditioning and putting mini twists into my hair because I knew there was no way I would be able to do my hair for the next few weeks. I finished my last twist a little after 4am and then I painted my nails. It might sound weird but, I wanted to come out of surgery, looking as close to my normal self as possible. Once you have IVs hooked up to you, a catheter inside you, and you're sitting in your own blood and urine, you'll understand why you might want to do a little something to remind yourself that all your dignity isn't gone just yet, but I'll get to more of that a bit later.

Pre-op at the hospital was quite standard. The staff at Yale Medical Center was very nice to me. I walked into the OR with a bunch of people wearing facial masks as they busied themselves prepping. The anesthesiologist asked if I felt woozy yet. I looked up and thought, "Wow, it's just like in the movies. Everything is alllll swiiiirlyyyyy". The next thing I remember is someone telling me, that everything went fine. They pushed my bed into the elevator, throughout the hallways and eventually into my recovery room. I breathed a sigh of relief and thought to myself, "I know'd dey is a Gawd" (in my Color Purple / Sofia voice) when I noticed, I had a private room.

to be continued...