When I woke up from the anesthesia, I’m sure I was a groggy mess exhibiting little or no cohesion of thought or process. But I am also sure I executed a mental checklist which peppered my thoughts immediately prior to the warm serum.
Alive? Check.
Vision? Check.
Brain Damage? Ummm….
But there I was, staring into the eyes of the same doctor who’d been there prior to lights out. What felt like a 10 minute nap had afforded Dr Rust the time to do his thing. He says: “Complete success”, “No complications”, and “Nothing out of the ordinary”. In my dirty semi-consciousness, I hear myself let out a “wooooo….”
No pain. Strange, given the tools and augers that have been violating my cavities. But nothing. Perhaps it’s the residual anesthesia. But I’d take a little pain, if I can just have something to drink. Any fucking thing. Cause it feels like I’m about to swallow my tounge.
The next 2-3 hours were to see me steadily regain footing amongst the living. Slowly sitting up & sipping apple juice. Letting the nurse change the nose-sling (the moustache of gauze sponges taped to my face). Being walked to a chair where the pressure cuffs were removed and Anna (either willingly or begrudgingly) took photographs. The whole rest of my day, even on the drive back home, only 3 hours after the surgery, was pain FREE. Only discomfort.
But as the day progressed into night, I began to feel acutely aware of not only the sutures on the left wall of my septum (to repair the deviation to the right), but to the packings that were stuffed up there, trailing 2x strings each out each nostril & taped to my face. These dressings were an unknown distance up there; I couldn’t tell. The strings we’re becoming blood-cemented to the architexture of my sinuses, then stripped away when I had to change the moustache sling.
But it was the pressure that was becoming intense. More significant then even my most severe sinus infection. THIS is precisely where & why I was prescribed Vicodin, that evil fucking pill that does more harm then good, IMHO.
I was able to get a hearty bowl of soup up me, and watch Apocolypto, the first of about a dozen tactically chosen & queued Netflix’s. Despite having to sleep sitting up, and all the cascade effects that plus the Vicodin were having to my rear end, I did sleep very well.
All in all, a good day. I was finally on the other side.