Surgery Queen is Fearful

Some of my friends and family tease me about the numerous surgeries that I have had to undergo (ten in total) - - the call me the Queen of Surgery.  Going under never really fazed me. I have the faith and trust with the medical personal that were performing the procedure; the one thing that would always make me axioms was having to get an IV.


I would nonchalantly go into the hospital packed with my backs, relaxed and ready for the deep, drugged induce sleep that is cause by the general anaesthetic did it's job. I never fully understood why my closest friends and my family would be stressed out and anxious for any of my procedures - after all I have had so many I just thought they'd be used to it like I was.


Well now I fully understand, that after having been put in their shoes. My daughter had to go for an tonsillectomy and adenoidectomy this last September. My heart knew that she was in good hands and that the medical personnel were well trained and would do an amazing job, but my heart raced and I was stressed out and extremely anxious. 


My baby was going under! She would have to lie on that narrow metal table and be strapped down. She is little and that can be scary. I did take it upon myself to ensure that my Princess was well informed of what it would be like. I went and printed of the Children's Hospital's booklet on what to expect for your day surgery. I would ready it to her every night and describe what to expect to be done once she was inside. 


My Princess was so brave and I was so proud of her. I was so hard to watch her walk off hand and hand with the nurse into the operating room. I was jumpy and had to be in constant motion while I waited the 45 minutes for my pager to buzz letting me know that it was all done and to report back to the waiting room for the surgeon to come out and talked to us.


My heart just bloomed at the news that it was over and that she was okay. Then I was unsettled while I waited for the nurses to wheel her bed back into her room for observation. In she came, blue popsicle in hand, raspy whispering to me that her throat hurt a lot. As soon as she was settled in and had her vitals check; I crawled up in bed and just coddled her, kissing her forehead, cheeks and hair telling her over and over again that I was so proud of my big brave girl!!

I felt utterly defenseless and useless when she was in surgery. I finally experienced what everyone has did whenever I went under the knife and it completely sucks.