My Real-Life Experience on Surgery Day for a Total Body Lift - My Bariatric Life
This sharepost is part of a series about total body contouring plastic surgery that My Bariatric Life underwent following massive weight loss.** Rea **My Bariatric Life's Total Body Lift - Part 1 Why Did I Do This?
I awoke very early that morning and everything became surreal from the moment I got into my escort's van. This dream-like state did not end until I went under from the anesthesia. At the hospital, I vividly recall my surgeon's bright and smiling face peeking in at me from the door of my patient room. He gave me the biggest hello of my life. As for me, I was in a half-conscious state of mind and numb to the people and events around me. This was, I believe, a defense mechanism of the ego to protect myself from anxiety. At this point I recall barely any of what he said during my markup session.
I was escorted by the intake nurse to the O.R. nurses who were to assist my surgeon. I think there were four in all who surrounded me. They chatted away excitedly and I was the complete center of attention. I felt like a princess with her ladies in waiting.
I remember walking through the doors into the O.R. The nurses seemed to disappear from my side to their stations without a word. I appeared to stand there alone and lost in the shuffle. I looked around and saw a huge surgical team milling about. It was overwhelming to realize that all these people were operating on me in some capacity. Then my eyes came upon my surgeon. He had a cloth spread on the floor and was waiting for me. I knew what that was, I was to stand on that cloth and be washed in Betadine.
The sight of my plastic surgeon in his scrubs always has scared me. I think this is because it is then that the surgery becomes very real for me. I know my life is in his hands from that point on. That is a tremendous responsibility and it makes me quiver. But before I could break down, I felt a nurse take me by the arm and lead me to my surgeon. I kept my eyes to the floor and could not look at him. It was a dream-like mood, and as the nurse removed my robe and gown I felt like the virgin being offered to the god.
Everything seemed in slow motion and fast motion at the same time. My surgeon and physician's assistant swiftly painted me and got me onto the operating table. The surgical team seemed to be double timing it. Nurses were putting surgical socks and leg compression devices on me, the anesthesiologist was setting up my IV, the nurse who stood beside me was calling for a blanket and my P.A. laid it on me. I looked around the OR to take one last look at my surgeon and P.A. Then I grabbed the nurse's hand, we exchanged a few words and I was out.
The next thing I remember was that I saw my surgeon and P.A. wave good bye as they left the O.R. I felt I had just witnessed the magician and his assistant exit stage left. It seemed to happen just moments after I grabbed the nurse's hand, but I had been out for six hours and twenty minutes. Later my surgeon would tell me that I had been awake and had spoken with him after my surgery. I asked what time it was, how everything went, and told the anesthesiologist that it was good that he did not kill me. I have a faint recollection of turning to the anesthesiologist and saying that. But clearly what I remembered next was the nurses lifting me onto a gurney and taking me into recovery.
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