Have you had general anesthesia? What is the longest you've ever been in surgery? | |
Overgoverned User ID: 51957855 United States 09/13/2015 02:32 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | I really don't remember any of it. No memory of going to the hospital, of coming home, of signing any releases for the surgery, nothing. This probably has something to do with my brain having been a bit jangled from the impact with the hood of the '79 Chevy. I don't remember any pain, either, and there's bound to have been some pain involved. I did have a foggy awareness of someone having done some bad things to my eyes. More of a "NO! Leave me alone!" feeling than a clear memory. The reason for my having felt this way is because there'd been some blood coming out of my ears, so someone had cautiously prescribed Neosporin otic drops to prevent possible infection. The razor-sharp hospital staff couldn't interpret these instructions correctly, and they persisted in administering the ear drops to my eyes. My brother detained someone and asked why I howled so much from eyedrops, since I wasn't howling a bit about my other miseries. He pointed out that he didn't think otic and ophthalmic were the same thing. The person he detained assured him that they were the professionals and he wasn't, so please don't go second-guessing our work. But to her credit, she did follow up on it, and the next day I had a LOT of people stop by to assure my brother that the eardrops (acetic acid with some antibiotics mixed in) hadn't done my eyes any lasting damage. But as for the surgery day, I just snoozed while the maxillofacial, orthopedic, and otolaryngology people took their turns fixing things. When I eventually came to, I was all rested up, and I discovered the controls that adjusted the hospital bed. I was amusing myself with bed adjustments, and I was scolded more than once to quit playing with the bed. I promised I'd behave, and then I'd forget and resume my shenanigans. A morphine injection was what finally got the point across to me. And the next morning, I was released. It was about a week later that I began asking questions about "how come I can't open my mouf?" and "how come's there this stainless steel wire poking through the skin over my collarbone?" |