At 5 a.m. Friday morning, I had not been awakened to take my pain meds through the night, and I knew I would be going home later that day. The pain was pretty bad. I was trying so hard not to take any more IV pain meds (Dilaudid, which is of the morphine family), but I was so nervous as to what the pain would be like if I didn't take it. So, at 5 a.m., I rang for the nurse and got my IV pain meds. I was a happy camper and was able to finally go back to sleep. It is hard to describe the intense pressure a surgery like this creates. I mean the idea that I have stitches in my sinuses, my jaw was broken and reattached with titanium plates, my lip was stretched so much that it looked like it might bleed from underneath...ouch.
That morning, however, I was ready to come home. I had enough of the hospital and the sterile environment. I worried though how my body would react to the outside world, how would I breathe around all the dust and dog hair in my house? Would the heat bother me? And, who would take care of me at home like the nurses had done? I didn't have a button to push at home to request any little thing my heart would desire or worse yet...need. My honey is busy with his burgeoning law practice, and I was worried he would be too busy to really care for me the way I thought I would need it.
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