Surgery Post IV: Things I was blatantly LIED TO about

It's been awhile since I've posted anything about my surgery. This was what I really, really wanted to write, but have been putting off. Granted, a month and a half after the fact I'm a little less super-raged about this, but I felt it should still be shared before I forget.

• "You can wear plastic jewelry in your piercings." When I scheduled my surgery, a month or two before it even happened, one of the nurses was going over my instructions for the day-of. "Wear comfortable clothing, no make-up, no jewelry--" "What about piercings?" I asked. "No piercings...but if you want to keep some holes open you can wear plastic jewelry." "What about quartz?" "What's that?" "Glass..." "No, it has to be plastic." "Ok." So you see, I did not just imagine being told that I could wear plastic jewelry in my piercings. So then I proceeded to order some plastic jewelry on interwebs, but then I waited too long and was afraid it wouldn't come in time, so then I bought some more from Hot Topic and the body jewelry cart in the mall. Overall, not a huge financial setback, but one I'd rather not have made in vain. When I went into surgery, the nurse there went over the same questions. "No makeup?" "No." "No jewelry?" "Only plastic." "...That still needs to come out..." And we chatted. She leafed through their rule book, and even called the nurse at the front. Who, apparently, was so irritated that I had been lied to that she wanted to know the girl's name who told me this. I didn't know it. But anyway, they gave me a denture cup to put my ugly, plastic, non-returnable jewelry into. It took me about a week to get everything[1] back in, but thankfully, I was at least able to.

• "The worst part of the nerve block will be that it feel really weird when we make your foot move and you aren't doing it." BULL. SHIT. Maybe if it hadn't been the first time the anesthesiologist had done this particular type of nerve block, that would have been true. But it HURT. It took a REALLY long time (15-20 minutes?) of this douche-nozzle[2] poking and digging around in my thigh until he was about to give up, and miraculously as he was pulling the electrode out he FINALLY hit my nerve. Which leads me to my next, and very related point:

• "We're giving you something so that you won't remember this." GO FUCK YOURSELVES. I feel like that if I remember being said this to, and I remember my jag-off anesthesiologist telling the nurse to give me more of whatever this magic Roofie was supposed to be, they did their job wrong. Especially considering that, oh, I do remember just how bad it was. My friend Emily who is a nurse tells me that they tried to 'Twilight' me. Apparently, it didn't take. Also, not anything I suppose I was lied to about, but the insertion site of this thing was ridiculously painful, which made getting remotely comfortable later on almost impossible. I'm seriously considering not getting another one if I have to get my other foot done.

• "It's just a little mosquito bite, and it doesn't hurt at all." Earlier, I mentioned that I was not told that, oh BTW, you're going to have to give yourself a shot every day for the next 10 days. I understand the importance of these shots. My family has a history of blood clots[3] and I'm on birth control[4] so apparently I'm at high risk. I'm a pretty 'big-girl' about shots. I don't usually mind them too much. But I can't say I was looking forward to this at all. I was comforted, however, by the fact that both my nursing student, her nursing teacher, and my friend Emily had told me that this shot was no big deal. A teeny, tiny little needle. A mosquito bite. Deep breath. Ok. Let's do this. The stick itself wasn't too bad. But the injection was HORRIBLE. It hurt SO BAD. The worst part though? No one believed me! A combination of being tired, hungry, in pain, knowing I'd have to put myself in pain, and not having anyone believe that I was in pain, and I burst into tears. After telling me for the twelfth time, 'that's a little baby shot! It doesn't hurt!' my wonderful nurse, Jayme, finally thought maybe I was telling the truth. She looked at the injection site...and I had a big rash emanating from it. Whoops! But then, the 5 other nurses that Jayme had brought in to figure out why I was in so much pain decided that clearly I was allergic to the alcohol swab. Yeah, no. Definitely, I'm allergic to Lovenox, which apparently almost no one is. Due to the fact that no, I couldn't have just taken an aspirin and a shot of vodka every day instead, and the other formulation is not yet generic, not covered by insurance, and therefore cost about a month's salary, I ended up taking the damn Lovenox, but with an ice pack and Benedryl beforehand.

[1] It's not like I have a hundred. But I do have a few I was worried about closing up...

[2] He actually seemed like a pretty nice guy, before I hated him more than Nickelback. Especially considering that he came to check up on me afterward and went almost PROUDLY into detail about how hard it was to find my nerve and how he had to dig around in there for so long...

[3] Thanks, Grandma! I also appreciate the tiny boobs and lazy eye. (No really, I love her very very much!)

[4] Woooo!