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Welcome! My name is Mrs.G and I started this blog so people could share in my mis-adventures in wedding planning. I married my southern gentleman on September 6th, 2009. Throughout our courtship I became enamored with everything southern and desperately want to become a steel magnolia.
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Wednesday, December 19, 2012

That time I had to have my gallbladder removed at 10 weeks pregnant....Part Deux

They finally moved me to a room after about another hour in the "holding area". At this point my Dad was with me and we started googling how my life was going to be sans gallbladder. Of course it was all the horror stories we were reading, no fatty foods at all and limited dairy for fear of debilitating gas or worse... explosive diarrhea. Be jealous of  my glamours life ladies... BE JEALOUS!!!

The lady I was sharing the room with was a trip, I get wheeled in to the room hair a mess, hospital gown flapping in the breeze and this lady is in silk pjs, hair coiffed reading the paper, obviously this isn't her first rodeo. I was an add on surgery that day which meant they could come and get me any minute if a surgery was canceled or it could be 3 am. I slept on and off as my family took shifts eating and going home to let the pups out. Then it happened.

I was really dehydrated when I got to the hospital, this doesn't help when  trying to find a vein for an IV when you already have crappy veins. The first nurse I had put my IV in my arm crease by my elbow. Which was fine and dandy when you are just getting fluids but when they put you on an actual pump that has an alarm the sounds when the line gets backed up, it sucks. If I even thought about moving my arm the dumb pump would sound. Not being in my right mind I suggested the nurse try to find a better place for the port... This resulted in 4 unnecessary puncture wounds given to me by 2 nurses, a nurses aid and then a stat nurse. The stat nurse almost got punched in the face... STAT! You see what I did there? Anyway, all the other nurses weren't too bad, they didn't dig for a vein and they said they had a last resort which was the stat nurse. She wasn't of the mentality of don't dig for a vein, this woman brought me to tears. For what seemed like an eternity she dug for a vein and said she "got one." She didn't my vein collapsed and bruised and the fluid started to build under my skin... lovely.

My last straw was when I went to the bathroom and husband asked me if I wanted to brush my teeth to feel a little human. I said I wanted too and I couldn't lift my arms from the pain of the ports, that is when it hit me. All I could do is cry, my arms and hands were covered in gauze and med tape from all the pokes and the one the stat nurse did was killing me. Husband hugged me and called the nurse back and asked her to take out the second port. I could have married husband all over again.

It was time to turn in for the night because it was looking like the morning before I would go under the knife. My dad left and my mom and husband were hashing out the details of the next day when my awesome nurse (I had her before and after surgery and she too was pregnant so we talked babies and it made me feel better) came back in and said "I take back what I said, they will be up for you in 15 min". I was in shock. It was almost 10, husband called my dad back to the hospital and I took off my jewelry and in no time I was being wheeled to surgery.

When I got in to the OR it was surreal. I met the surgeon and the  put me to sleep with out me knowing doctor. I say that because I had no idea he was starting the anesthesia he just said, "ok" and the next thing I knew I was thrashing around in recovery. It was strange to be laying on the table because they started passing instruments above me and I didn't really freak out until I saw the intubation tubes. I don't know why that scared me but it did. They put the oxygen mask over my face and had me breathe deeply and that is the last thing I remember.

I don't know where I was in my sub-conscience when I woke up but it was someplace where it required me to get up and be somewhere. I tried to get up 3 times and had to be held down by the nurses, the amount of pain I woke up in was hard to process. I kept telling them "I am in a lot pf pain." and asking if it should be like this, Then it got so bad all I could do is moan. They shot me up with 3 hits of pain meds and I was still in so much pain I said I was going to throw up. They ordered more and some anti-nausea meds and finally I found some relief. They wheeled me back to my room and I was awake which everyone was surprised and I looked around the room and asked where my dad was, he had left because he was sure I would be asleep. I told them about recovery and my mom and husband said that is why it probably took me so long to get back to my room, it took over an hour. After I got settled, mom left and I asked husband to stay and he slept in the recliner.

I was so hopped up on pain meds, and just plain tired that my pump alarm had been going off and I had no idea. The migraine lady had to call the nurse.... the noise from the pump... triggered a migraine for her... OOPS!!!

I felt terrible.

She was moaning and asking why was no one helping her and all because I moved my damn arm.

Anyway, I ate the horrible hospital food and was told I could go home that day.

For the next week and a half I was in a state of twilight sleep and just recovered in our guest room.

I am not 100% but I am getting there and the baby was fine as we left the hospital and I have an ultrasound to check on bean and see how they are baking.

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