The journey between here and there

I’ve never had an operation before, never taken drugs, never been drunk or smoked in my entire life. I’ve never been under a general anesthetic before and boy, what a crazy trip it is. I came out of the operation fine, but my body was like a rag doll. My head was rolling about, I was slurring my words, mumbling and talking really quiet. Normally it only takes the "normal" person a couple of hours to come out of an operation under a general, but not me. It took me a good 6 hours. The doctor was quite worried and the nurse called me "weird." 

 Phft… nice. I KNOW I’m weird. I’ve had 5 kids, no stretch marks and my body zaps down to the way it looked in high school. My body is weird. I now know that drugs affect my body really crazy like. It just puts me right out. Ryan loves the T3’s. I think he’s going to give some to me every night just to calm me down and make me sleep. He gave me 2 T3’s and I’m instantly out within 2 min and I sleep for 6 hours. I don’t remember anything, I just zonk out. Every now and then I try to wake myself up, but my body is so heavily drugged I can’t seem to keep my eyes open. Everything is hazy for 2 days as Ryan religiously follows the prescribed doctors orders on how much drugs to keep me on. 

I go see the Doctor again for a check up and I’m still a rag doll. The doc is still very worried and tells Ryan to only give me one T3 because he can’t even get a proper response out of me. The surgery went well and everything will be fine.

I must sound different on the phone as well because everyone I talked to was asking me if I was ok, what the matter was and if I was just in surgery. Huh? How did they know? I would just blow it off and try to get my regular voice back, but I guess my loud, obnoxious, crazy voice wouldn’t appear. Instead it was a sedated, quiet, small voice. Whatever. I’ve stopped talking to people on the phone, I hate the nagging questions. I know people are just concerned, but I’ll be fine. I’m superwoman, nothing can hold me down.

Ryan has been getting the house in ship shape, making the kids work like it was a work factory… all work, no play. The house looks great and I just sleep. I have waking moments, but mostly I’m in a fog. I wish I can hurry up and recover already. I hate being sick and I hate having to slow down. I wish my body would hurry up already.  I’m itching to ride my bike. It’s all paid for and it’s just sitting at the dealers. I figure I’ll let it sit there instead of having to pay insurance on it for a month that I don’t drive it. I’ll hopefully pick it up by Mother’s Day.  

In the mean time I exist on smoothies and T3’s until my body heals itself. I’m rather annoyed I didn’t have a near death experience. I was kind of hoping I would die and they would bring me back, give me a quick peek into the other side…. but alas, no… I’m sure the doctors thought I was very odd as that was one of the questions that came out of my mouth as there were trying to wake me up…

"Did I die on the operating table?"

"No" 

"Hmph… too bad. How did it go? Everything go ok? You didn’t have to bring me back to life?" 

"Everything went very well and no we didn’t have to bring you back to life."

I think I must have asked that question 5 times as I was trying to wake up.

My response each time was, "oh…. too bad."

As I was heading into surgery I was pissed at Ryan because he made me late. He insisted on going to the gym in the morning and I told him he didn’t have time. We were 30 min. late. I was furious because he didn’t listen to me. I hissed at him as they lead me away, "if I see the light, I’m heading towards it and I’m NOT coming BACK!!!! You’re on your own!" I growled.

LOL… nice. Nice way to say goodbye to someone. Sheesh, I’m such a freakn’ nut. I don’t know why he puts up with me at times. 

Unfortunately or Fortunately… depending on how you look at it, I didn’t die. I guess it’s just not my time yet. One day it will be. Hopefully, I’ll be a bit nicer on my way out.