third time's the charm?

how does that expression go? third time's the charm? let's hope so.

i'll be honest, i wasn't expecting to go back for outpatient surgery for at least another 6 months, let alone 6 weeks. but that was what the doctor ordered, literally, at my post-op follow-up appointment after we returned from ireland. another procedure in 6 weeks.

this time, it was again at the same facility, and my arrival time was much earlier than the previous times since i was the first patient. although i'm not a morning person, i was grateful for this because it took out alot of the waiting that makes me nervous. the staff noticed in my chart that i had been there not long ago, so would preface with, "like last time.." or "you know the drill." yup, i sure knew the drill.

prep flew by, as after i met my nurse, was examined by my anesthesiologist, was set up with my IV (apparently i have "really tough skin" in my hand, and i'd be lying if it didn't hurt a bit) and shared a word with my doctor, i was up out of my chair again and walking down the hall towards the OR. i was in OR #4 this time, same bright light, different staff. i was directed to scoot my butt along the crease on the table, looked up at the screens and overhead light as my arms were being worked on. i was told i would have a warming blanket, which was nice, and felt it inflating. then the sedation was started, and the warmth spread through me quickly. i focused on blinking like i was trying to stay awake, even heard my heartrate rise incrementally as i struggled (irrationally) to fight the urge to doze. but before long, i felt the enveloping sensation, the ringing in my ears, the fuzzy feeling, as the darkness closed upon me.

then all too quickly, my name was called and i was being wheeled into recovery. "wonderwall" by oasis was playing, one of my favorite songs. my recovery nurse was actually the same nurse i had for prep the last time, and i told her so. she remarked that no wonder my husband and i looked familiar. then there was my mom, my sister, and my dad. "gang's all here!" i felt like saying. after i had something to drink and eat, i was up again and redressed. one of the other nurses recognized me, as she was the one i had for recovery twice before. as i was being wheeled out, she exclaimed, "thanks for keeping us in business!" and gave me a high five. it's crazy how the surgicenter has become such a familiar place, that i'm not the only one who remembers.

no matter how many times i go through this, it doesn't get much easier; the process maybe, because i've gone through it before, but emotionally, i don't think i am ever truly prepared. it's hard, i'll admit that. it's tough when so much is out of your control. and i, for one, have issues learning to trust.

but there is alittle hope in me still. hope that someday, i can look back on all this, all this wanting and waiting, all this physical... crap as being worth it.

third time's the charm? fingers crossed.