So, I had surgery yesterday to have my IUD removed. What a lovely experience! My recovery hasn't been as bad as I thought it would, but I'm still kinda run-down feeling from all they did to me.
For those of you who don't know, and IUD is and IntraUterine Device designed to prevent pregnancy. Mine was AKA a "Copper T." I have been having numerous problems with mine over the past 2 years, and decided I was fed up and had to get it out. They tried TWICE to remove it the conventional way, in the doctors office, but to no avail. Suspicions were that it had embedded itself into the side of my uteras, which is NOT GOOD. So I had to schedule a D&C (dilation and curettage - basically an abortion), to have it removed.
So yesterday morning I rose at 5:30am, took a shower with anti-bacterial soap, as instructed, and Drew and I arrived at the hospital at about 6:40 to check in. They got me into a gown, took my vitals and started my IV. Drew fell asleep siesta style in the chair waiting for them to take me back. I thought about peeing, but they'd told me they were going to drain my bladder with a catheter as soon as I went in, so I figured I'd leave them something to drain, heehee. Then, a bunch of nurses and doctors all of a sudden came into my little curtained cubicle, shot me up with "something to relax you," and whisked me away. The last thing I said to Drew was "Drew! Wake up! I'm drugged and I'm going in!" all while feeling like I was coming down from a BIG inhalation of nitrous oxide.
When I got into the O.R., they had me move to the table (reminded me of the twins' birth), shot me up again (this time with the sleep cocktail), and started to stick the monitor stickers to my chest. I asked, "how long does it take to kick in?" and the nurse said "It's pretty immediate." Then I asked (feeling VERY drunk at this point) "Is my butt supposed to be in the crack?" (meaning the break in the bed). I think she said yes, or something. And finally, I told her the first monitor sticker she'd put on had come off as soon as she walked away. She helped me fix it, and that's the last thing I remember.
About an hour and a half later, I woke up in the recovery area, feeling disoriented and rather violated. The first thing I asked the nurse was "Did they stick a tube down my throat?" because it was kinda sore. She said yes. SHe then told me I had to pee and keep some food/drink down before they'd let me go. Then the anesthesiologist came in to assess my pain, and subsequently shot me up with a dose of Fentonyl. Ahhh, a few seconds later I felt NO pain whatsoever. Then I drank over a QUART of Gatorade and some saltines. Then I had to pee.
So I peed, and then had to pee again a few mintues later. The doctor came in and said everything went well, that it wasn't embedded, but that the strings were wrapped around it, which was why they couldn't get it out in the office visits.
They sent Drew down to get the car, and put me in a wheelchair. When the elevator opened on the first floor, I swear I saw Greer Glover (some of you know who that is) about 11 months pregnant, standing there waiting to get on, looking ever so cute in a little maternity dress, her huge belly threatening to smother me, as I was right at its level. But I was still pretty drunk-feeling, so maybe it wasn't her.
Anyway, then we went home and my husband waited on me hand-and-foot for the rest of the day. WHEW! Okay, that's all you get. Tootles!
P.S. WOOHOO! I'm fertile again!!! Get ready for Neilson baby #4!