More Thankfulness

We're a week out from Surgery #4 (hopefully the last one EVER), and I'm ever so thankful everything went smoothly.  I need to get the name of the anesthesiologist so I can send him a thank-you note or something.  I sailed through recovery, got home relatively early and was eating French toast while laying on my couch in a nice timely manner.

I had to be at the hospital last Monday at 6am, which was fine, because I prefer to have these surgeries early (I get dehydrated really quickly, so the later the surgery, the farther away from my last drink of water we get...).  I admit to being a little nervous walking across a deserted 32nd Street so early in the morning, and I actually got stopped by a guy asking where Sixth Avenue was.  I told him and mentally prepared myself to poke him with my umbrella if he decided to follow me.  He didn't.  Oh, me of little faith.  So, anyway, I got to NYU a little early, and I sat down in the day surgery waiting room.  Boy, I really never need to see that room again.  After me, another woman about my age came in, then a family of three arrived: a mom, her 10-ish-year-old son, and the grandma.  Oh my.  I think the boy may have been autistic or something, but he was out of control, especially for 5:45am in a hospital surgical waiting room.  He kept running around, pushing any button he could find (good thing I had gotten up there in the elevator before him!), yelling and being generally disruptive.  I tried to convince myself that displacing my anxiety into being annoyed by this kid would work, but it didn't.  I was just anxious about the surgery AND annoyed by the kid.  Thankfully, a nurse came out and took me and the other lady back into the little surgery prep rooms.  I think she was being kind and getting us out of the earshot of the out-of-control kid (I do feel guilty for having little-to-no sympathy, but I'll cut myself some slack here).  I didn't hear the little guy any more that day, so I do hope all went well for him and his family. 

After sitting in the little room for awhile, the first nurse they assigned to me came in to begin the seemingly never-ending questions about my age, weight and latex allergies.  I realize they have to dot all the Is and cross all the Ts, but it gets annoying answering the same questions 75 times in about an hour period.  When the nurse told me I needed to take a pregnancy test, I said I could tell her, with 1000% certainty, that there was no chance I'm pregnant.  She looked at me, very sternly, and said "How??"  As if I were telling her it was physically impossible, as opposed to situationally impossible.  I pointed out the number of years the gestation would have to be for me to be pregnant, and she said, "So what?  You have to take the test anyway."  Oh, ok.  With no sense of humor here, it's going to be a LONG morning.  :)

Note:  if it's raining when you go to NYU Medical Center, don't carry a big umbrella.  It won't fit in the locker they give you for your clothes.

Anyway, I talked to about fifteen different doctors and/or nurses about my age, weight and latex allergies.  Dr Vera Wang finally came in and said, "So, this must be easier since you've been here before!"  She's so sweet, I felt bad contradicting her, but I said, "Um, no, it's actually HARDER each time.  I know more things that could go wrong!"  She looked perplexed and then moved on.  I became her art canvas, as she drew on me with her little black pen, where things were going to go, how big they were going to be, and so on.  I did decide on having the nipples done, but made sure to tell her I didn't want huge honking headlights.  She said they get smaller and flatter as time goes on, so we'll just have to see...

After I saw Dr Vera Wang, then I met Mr Anonymous Anesthesiologist (well, he told me his name, but I forgot it).  He said he saw in my files that I had problems the last time with the drugs and could I please explain them to him?  I talked him through everything, he listened and never condescended, which was great.  He then put in my file that I have an allergy to compazine and said he would do all he could to make sure I didn't get sick this time.  I felt very reassured by his attitude.

Finally, nurse #75 came back to take me to the operating room.  They give you one of those little hats and walk you for about a mile, until you get to your room.  I climb onto the table, lie down, and try not to be nervous.  I told Mr. AA that it's historically been difficult to put IVs into my arm and my hand is a better bet.  So, he speedily got it into my right hand, walked over to my left side to put me on a heart monitor, came back to my right side and said "Hmmmmmmmm."  I said, "Is that a good hmmmmmmm or a bad one?"  He said he just needed to tighten the tape holding the IV in, and not to worry.  What, me worry??  You could hear my heart monitor pounding pounding, so finally, Mr AA said, "You know what?  You seem anxious.  Let me give you a little something now."  I said, "That would be nice, thank you."    That's the last thing I remember until they woke me up in recovery.  :)

I have a vague memory of Dr Vera Wang telling me my blood pressure got really high during the procedure and I should probably see my cardiologist about that.  I apparently told people my feet were tingling, too, but I have absolutely no recollection of that.  Unlike the last procedure, I didn't have any heart irregularities afterwards, no one yelled at me to keep breathing, I didn't feel like I was going to be sick, and I didn't feel like I wanted to pull my hair out.  Yay!  I think I only laid around and dozed for about an hour and a half, then I got to sit up in a chair for awhile and eat some crackers, then I went home!  Thanks to my fantastic friends, I didn't have to worry about going to the drugstore (there's a pharmacy inside NYU Medical Center, so a dear one went and got my prescriptions filled while I was dozing), and I didn't have to worry about finding a cab to get me home (another dear one came and picked me up in his car).  Easy peasy, thank heavens.  Who's a thankful girl to have so many dear ones spend their days making her life easier??  ME!!  My friends thought it was good karma that people were moving INTO the apartments that had been gutted by the fire that happened the last time I got a ride home!  I'll take all the good karma I can find.

I'm also thankful I haven't had much pain at all, maybe some twinges here and there, so I mainly just slept and relaxed all last week, except for Thanksgiving Day, when I took a car so I could spend the evening with people I love and who love me.  Delicious food, delicious friends = perfect Thanksgiving.  I was still pretty tired, but I enjoyed myself all the same.  It's amazing how tired you can be after a minor surgical procedure.  Thursday was also the day to take off the bandages and take my first post-op shower.  That actually took quite a bit out of me.  I probably should've done it in the morning and then napped before dinner, but I didn't plan ahead (that should be the title of a chapter in my autobiography).  I thought everything looked good, though.  The right side, now lifted, looks more like the left side, and the nipples, though kinda goofy-looking without any areolas, seem about right.  So, all's good on that front.  I actually kinda like how they look now. 

I had my follow-up appointment with Dr Vera Wang this morning and she said all looks good to her, too.  No heavy lifting and no bouncing (?!) for the foreseeable future.  She also suggested I wear a bigger bra for awhile.  Great, more bra shopping.  I have to see her again after the holidays and then we'll talk about the tattoo areolas, after which, fingers crossed, I will be DONE.  (fingers crossed again)  For which I will be VERY thankful.  :)

Stuff they don't tell you

Had a grand brunch, using another of my Diner's Deck cards.  We went somewhere we probably would not have gone otherwise:  Bourbon Street Bar & Grill on Restaurant Row. 

You know how it is, you sort of disparage the restaurants on Restaurant Row as tourist traps.  Well, they kind of are (a bus group came to Bourbon Street and had the whole top floor to themselves), but that doesn't mean it can't be a fun dining experience.

Bourbon Street looks like a Disneyfied version of a New Orleans place--all wrought iron and stuffed alligators.  The menu has a lot of Cajun-influenced food and a lot of Southern cocktails.  We went with the brunch menu, however, since they offer a $20 brunch with unlimited mimosas or bloody Marys.  Um, hello!!!  With an unlimited mimosa, they just come refilling your glass all day.  I finally had to tell our server to stop refilling my glass, or else she'd have to carry me out (or let me sleep it off under the table).

Two friends got Cajun dishes--smothered chicken and chicken and biscuits.  They looked delicious, but I think I've finally gotten over my chicken cravings.  Another friend got a Ceasar salad (clearly, I need to start following her lead to help with the whole diet thing), which also looked very tasty.  As salads go.  Then my other gal pal and I got the pain perdu, or, French toast.  It was yum yummy.  And not vegan, yes, I know.  It was eggy and delicious, served with a little Nutella on top, along with candied pecans and strawberries.  The Nutella added a nice rich touch, but thankfully, they didn't put too much on there.  Otherwise, the toast would've become cloyingly sweet.  As it was, I didn't need to use the syrup they put on the side.  The toast was just sweet enough.  They also have a side of watermelon on the regular menu, so I got that too.  Just to feel like I wasn't completely unhealthy.  :)

So, to sum up, we had a great time at Bourbon Street.  We definitely want to go back.  The service was great, the prices weren't bad and the drinks were big.  It may be a little theme-y, but sometimes, that's ok.

OK, so when you talk to plastic surgeons about what happens before your exchange surgery, they don't really mention that part about how humidity can affect the tissue expanders.  Once the humidity reaches about 60% or so, I start to swell up.  And up and up.  And out.  I figure they don't bring this up because then people might not opt for tissue expanders.  Some days I feel like I should've just left well enough alone and not gone for the implants.  It is so incredibly uncomfortable right now--I keep telling myself I only have three weeks to go, but there are moments when that's not very comforting.  Although my cardiologist infamously said, "They're not operating on your legs," meaning I should keep walking for exercise, it's really difficult in this weather.  On my first summer Friday last week, I thought, hey, I'll take the N train and walk the extra (somewhat less than a) mile back to my apartment.  I figured I'd make a few stops, buy a few things and be ready for the weekend.  Ugh.  By the time I got home, I could barely move my arms.  It was like I had enormous boulders under my neck.  Well, I nearly always feel like there are enormous boulders under my neck, but it's especially bad after exercise and when it's humid.

I had felt so bad after the (unfinished) AIDS Walk that I made an appointment to see Dr Vera Wang to make sure the swelling wasn't something serious.  She said I am indeed more swollen, but that it's normal and not a problem.  I'm seeing her again tomorrow for my pre-op appointment, so she'll get another look.  She also said after my last visit that I may need liposuction afterwards.  So clearly more of a dieting effort is in order, but it's become a vicious cycle about the working out.  I feel terrible when I exert myself, but if I don't, it's probably worse in the long run.  Again, stuff they don't really explain to you.

Three weeks, three weeks, three weeks...