Waking Up

I couldn’t remember where I was when I first regain consciousness after the surgery. I’ve got an oxygen tube up my nose, an IV tube needle in my left forearm and a draining tube under my right arm. Despite all that, I felt quite comfortable. Must be the morphine that they pumped into me through the IV. It was very difficult to wake up. It felt like pushing a truck uphill. I kept drifting back to sleep, but I fought it. I know I had to wake up to prove that the anesthetic didn’t damage my brain.

It’s funny how people have the most irrational fears. Mine was of peeing into a bed pan. You can’t stand up a few hours immediately after a surgery so if you need to pee, you’ll have to do it in bed. The nurse would put a pan under your bottom and you’ll have to do it on your back like a roast turkey on a plate. I had to do it last year. It was one of the most humiliating experiences that I’ve ever had. So this time around, I prayed that I wouldn’t have to repeat it. It was mid afternoon when I first came to. I had a sip of drink, listened to the nurse while she checked my vital signs, and talked to my sis a bit. Then I went straight to sleep again.

It was hard to wake up, but it was impossible to really sleep. How strange… A part of my brain kept waking me up right before I really fell asleep. It’s another one of my irrational fears. My brain was subconsciously warning me that if I fell into deep sleep, I would never wake up again.

When I woke up again it was past midnight. I calculated the hours. Yep, the nurse might just let me get up and go to the bathroom by myself. I rang for the nurse. She said it’s ok and helped me up. She arranged all my tubes so I wouldn’t trip on them or pull them out by accident. I leaned on the IV pole and pushed it along to the bathroom. I peed in the bathroom. Strangely, I felt very proud of myself.