I Have Survived
On Tuesday, my appointment for my surgery finally came. One of my housemates drove me to Stanford University and I headed up to the surgery check-in. On check-in, I was informed that my surgeons were running long on another surgery.
I got naked, robed, and weighed (I’m down ten pounds already?), and waited for my anesthesiologist to talk to me. Apparently, my surgery has changed. Surgical reduction of my mandibular condyles is too risky, so we’re plating my chin fracture with a metal plate and banding my jaws shut for a couple of weeks. My surgeon is placing the plate by making an incision inside my mouth. I end up with no external incisions.
The anesthesiologist told me they were going to intubate me nasally—a big tube down my nose and throat. Fortunately, I’d be out before they did that. They started the IVs and I was shortly wheeled into the operating room. A gaggle of people were buzzing around me and the anesthesiologists worked on my veins. Soon, someone asked me if I was too cold.
It seemed like five seconds elapsed when I opened my eyes. “Are we starting?” I asked. “Honey,” the nurse told me. “You’re all done. You’ve been in the recovery room for more than an hour.” My vision returned and, before long, I ended up in my room, groggy, but alive.
I spent five hours the first night trying to go to the bathroom, before the prettiest nurse in the world came in to install a catheter. That sucked a little bit. Also, if you’re up all night and plan to sleep through the day in the hospital… forget it. People come in bright and early to make sure that you don’t sleep very much.
Wednesday passed and my doctor decided that I should spend an additional night in the hospital, just to make sure I was out of pain and in full possession of my faculties by the time I go home. So, after five clear liquid meals, I was finally given a can of Ensure and released a little while afterward.
My friend, Emmett, grabbed supplies I requested at my house on Wednesday and came to pick me up on Thursday morning. So far as I’m concerned, Emmett doesn’t get to buy Indian food in my presence for a year—it’s on me, sir.
So, I have another week from today with my jaws banded shut. Next Monday, I get to go in and get my mouth opened and guidance bands placed. After that point, for a couple of weeks, I’ll be on a soft foods diet. After that, I will likely be able to resume with solid foods ad nauseam (heh). At that point, I hope to be back on my bicycle with a whole new level of commitment. If I’m gonna lose all this weight to liquid diets and a jaw injury, I’m coming back stronger than ever before.
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