It was cold in the surgical area, really cold, with a constant temperature of over twenty degrees all year round. I sat on a bench and looked around. There were a lot of stretchers on the floor, and there was someone behind the glass window, the same person who was just in charge of opening and closing the door with the electric button control. I could also see a long corridor to my right, I sat there not daring to move, feeling cold and afraid of doing something wrong. The lady next to me said she had been waiting for a long time, why wasn't she there yet. After a while, a child who looked like a year old was carried in by his mother, crying and wondering what kind of surgery the child was going to have. The child went in, and then came out of the person shouted at me and took me to the corridor.
The corridor was so long, and it was full of operating rooms, the whole corridor was full of operating rooms, and the people in them were all dressed in green. Some of the doors were open and there were operating beds with instruments and all kinds of wires in them, and some of the doors were closed, probably in the middle of an operation. I was taken into an operating room with an open door, which was just like any other, lots of green, lots of wires, and operating beds, and lots of people in green with masks and slippers busy getting ready.
When I went in, my name was checked, I was asked about my weight (again to confirm my weight, I knew that it was going to be anesthetized), and I was asked to sign two pieces of paper, but I don't remember what they were about at all, maybe it was the anesthesia. Then I was told to lie down on the operating bed, and a doctor told me to relax and helped me lift up my shirt and take off my pants, when the doctor muttered something about why I was still wearing underwear. I was like, can't I wear them? No one told me. I realized later that during the operation, underwear and panties should not be worn, and the doctor will take them off if they are worn.
After I lay down, I could see two large surgical lights above my body, like two moons facing me, and the lights were not on. At this point a male doctor came over and put my arm on a support board on the left side of my body and told me, give you a shot, it might hurt a little. I said is it anesthetic? He said yes, and in a moment there would be an inhaled anesthetic placed in my mouth. To be honest, the shot did hurt a little. The shot was on the inside of my left wrist, and it wasn't until a week after I was discharged from the hospital that the large black and purple bruise went down a bit.
After this shot, my eyes stared at the surgical light and did not dare to move. I said why do I feel dizzy, am I too nervous. Someone picked up and said it was the anesthetic. I said so fast, I seem to be a little blurred, and then, I opened my eyes again is the night, lying in the observation room dark, I realized that the operation is done.
The effect of the anesthetic is really super fast, it may only take two minutes, or a minute and a half, I do not have any consciousness. In the past, when I watched the situation on TV where criminals gave their victims anesthesia, I thought to myself how this person did not insist on holding on, and then fainted again by calling 110 not to be saved. Now I know that it is simply impossible to realize, the drugs that act directly on the brain are too powerful.
Waking up from the observation room, I saw the window outside the sky is dark, sleepy, really sleepy. Later I realized that my surgery started at 13:50 and ended at 17:20. Other people's surgery in one or two hours on the launch, I three and a half hours of surgery is done, my husband was outside looking at the late than I went in the end of the operation, my name on the big screen has been displayed in the "operation" really scared to death, the brain of the TV drama clips.
Looked outside the dark, a nurse passed by, I said I want to drink water, she said six hours after surgery to drink water, you wait, I said what time, she seemed to say eight o'clock, but also seems to be not eight o'clock, I can't remember, I can't remember anything after surgery. I was thirsty, really thirsty, it was like on TV, I woke up thirsty, killing me with thirst, I've never been so thirsty. I fell back asleep, woke up a couple times in between, don't remember, I think it was two o'clock once. Finally, the nurse took my cup with a straw and shoved it in my mouth, and I had just taken a few sips before they took it away again. I was able to take a few sips and they took it away again.
In the middle of waking up many times, the nurse every time to give me an injection to wake me up and ask me what my name is. The nurse would wake me up every time she gave me a shot and asked me what my name was. The uninterrupted injections, blood pressure measurements, nebulizers in the mouth from time to time, and physical therapy would be given to me to prevent blood clots. There were instruments next to me to monitor my vital signs at all times. I kept asking what time it was, knowing that I would have to stay in the observation room for 24 hours before I could go back to the hospital room. I kept sleeping and waking up, not daring to turn over or lift my arms. I was given a bag of nutrient solution to drink at every meal time, with a straw that we prepared ourselves, and it tasted exactly like soy milk (the doctor told the family that they could choose between the nutrient solution, which cost 30 dollars a bag, and the millet porridge, which cost 3 dollars a bag). I saw the name of the hospital written on the top of the nutrient solution, which was developed and formulated by the people themselves.
The last hour, the last hour from 24 hours, really can not sleep, do not dare to move, can only open the eyes of the stunned. I heard the nurse call my husband and said the family to come over to pick it up, ready to go. Then she unplugged me from various instruments and had to pull out the urinary catheter, oh no wonder I didn't feel like peeing at all, this thing is so handy. She told me to take a deep breath and pulled it out quickly, it didn't hurt at all. She helped me from the bed to the wheelchair, I instantly felt heavenly, head blinded, nauseous and wanted to vomit. But I also saw that there was a large blood stain, probably the size of a basketball, on the nursing pad underneath me. There was a drain tube sticking out of my stomach (one of the 4 minimally invasive holes had a drain tube in it) connected to a drainage bag, and it was full of dirty blood, or rather, bruises. So there I was, sitting in my wheelchair, head down, concentrating on fighting that feeling of wanting to throw up, not daring to move a muscle for fear that I would immediately throw up. The door opened, my remaining light saw my husband immediately stood up, and I kept my head drooped posture, was pushed into the elevator, pushed into the hospital room, and helped into the hospital bed.