Hopefully the last on my chest!
This week I went under general anaesthetic for a second revision to my chest, to decrease the size of my areolas and to take a wee bit of left-over material from one side by liposuction. The decrease in areola size also allowed for the skin to be stretched more taunt on my chest, reducing the chance of “saggy skin” which, ofc, no one wants or expects until they reaching their final years…
I was pretty relaxed before surgery, I know the drill by now, and was happy to hear I was first on the list for afternoon operations. Mainly cause I was already starving and was thinking it was best I got knocked out before my hunger turned me into an angry, moody chimp, banging my chest and yelling downing the waiting area.
Down in theatre things did not get off to a great start… the cannula killed being put in. Then the guy came with the bloody big syringe full of anaesthetic, plugged it to the cannula and started to ram it in with pressure .. *arrrrghhhhhhhhhhh*. They got the hint via me:
2) Coming out in sweats
+ and the heart rate moniter bleeping beside me suddenly having a temper.
The anaesthetist paused and was like…”ahh, blown vein”. Great. So they quickly went with pulling out the old one (oww) and putting in a new one (oww oww). He shoved in the rest and I started to feel like violently throwing up. The last thing I remember saying is “I feel..quuuezy..” then OUT.
I came round feeling not too bad in recovery. Just kinda high I suppose. I vaguely remember watching nurses wandering around, then being helped to clumsily get into my clothes. Then back to main room where my mum came through to see me. I had a bit to eat, had a quick chat with surgeon who seemed happy, then was off!.
Ahhhh the car journey back, 2 hours of pure.. HELL. In the car, something suddenly turned inside me and I felt like throwing up all the time, yet there was nothing to come out. I felt sick as a dog. Sick as a rat after eating a full block of stilton cheese. So my mum kept having to stop the car to let me out to retch and make generally disgusting sounds in laybys. The joy. The wrap round my chest was uncomfortable, my hand throbbed, my shomach churned, and I would have been happy for the car seat to swallow me whole.
Somehow made it to bed and had fragments of sleep interspaced with wake-full moments of a heaving stomach. Next morning noticed my hand had turned blue from the bust vein, and still felt sick pretty much all day.
But, things are improving!! I have had about 24 hours free from vomit feelings now! 🙂 . The tight wrap is off and so I can move more freely with just the bandages and a compression top. I’m on no painkillers or anything, I just have twitches and spasms from my chest that are managable. I am trying to be a good recover’er. Just gentle movement around, eat well, rest a lot etc. I’ve learnt from past op’s that slow and steady does win the race when it comes to recovering. What’s nice now is not having any surgeries to think about in the future (as it stands). I’m happy to just fall into a quiet period and contemplate further stuff if/when it comes to me.
Now i’ll sit back with a coffee and chill for a bit, maybe watch Perry and Percy the pigeons sunbathing outside in the trees as normal. Till next week..