How do you feel?
"Tired."
When I opened my eyes I am alone.
The person belonging to the voice is gone and I am alone in the recovery room with the curtain drawn.
I have no idea how long it had been since the voice asked the question.
Could have been 1 minute could have been 30.
But now the veil of anesthesia has been lifted and I am awake.
WIDE awake.
My surgery is over.
No pain. No nausea. No grogginess.
My surgeon and anesthesiologist are GENIUSES!
(Not to mention ball-busters as evidenced by the banter that was exchanged during the hour I was being prep'd for surgery. I was never this much at-ease before either of my c-sections!)
Awake and alone. What to do?
A-la every breast augmentation episode of Dr. 90210, I peeked.
Then I peeked again.
And ... one more time just to be certain.
I was not bandaged. I only wore an elastic pressure band across the top of the breasts which is designed to keep the implants from riding up into my throat.
I have to say that I wasn't very impressed with what I saw.
No moment of OHMYGOD I'M HUGE!
All I saw was a little nip protruding beyond the elastic band and not much else.
But I knew enough to reserve judgement... for now.
(I know now it's because of the pressure bandage which skews the view from above, making you look smaller than you actually are. WAY. SMALLER. OMG I AM HUGE!!!!!)
Before I knew it my nurse poked her head in, sat me up and started me on the process of getting ready to leave.
One more dose of Toradol via IV to get me through the ride home.
WHHHHEEEEEEEE!!
My surgery began at 7:30am. I was home ... HOME!!!!... by 11am.
I forced myself to nap though I didn't need to. And I was up and able to greet Hansel when he came home from school like I had promised him the day before.
The rest of the day was spent back and forth between hanging in the living room and resting.
Then I noticed it.
A small red patch on my stomach right behind the waist band of my shorts.
Must be from my laundry detergent, I thought.
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