My mum picked me up in the morning and took me my appointment. I was freaking out. Not because of the surgery itself but because of the anesthetic! I have this bizarre fear that I will just not wake up. And I would never know. Like that would be it, they would knock me out and bam Sarah no longer exists. But I wouldn’t know, I would be dead.
So yes I was freaking the heck out. My Dr. came into my waiting room and with a marker drew all these little lines on me so I looked like a stitched up doll and then I was ready to go. I said bye to my mum who would be picking me up in just a few short hours (1 1/2 to be exact).
The whole team was lovely and put me at ease and before I knew it I was waking up. At first I just felt groggy. I was in a different room recovering and my Dr. said the surgery had gone well (phew!). I had on a very tight tensor bandage as well as this intense bra that I ended up having to wear 24/7 for EIGHT weeks. Not fun.
My mum came to get me and they wheeled me out of the back of the building to be discrete (very considerate). That ride home sucked. I started to feel SUPER nauseous and that began my few days feeling like death…