Post 10 - Stay Abreast of the Situation

All right, guardians, I’m going to keep talking to you post-surgery, because we both know of Miss Ex-Lumps-a-Lot is NOT cogent enough to retain any of this yet. 

First, hide the car keys. Hide them! Yours and hers. Drowsy people are often positive, and insistent, they are okay to drive. (Not true. Don’t fall for it.) 

Second, push for naps, or at least horizontal relaxing. Gravity, even when sitting, can and will tax the boob. 

Also, don’t ask or offer, just assume control of whatever task she will inevitably try to take on in her groggy state. Be it watering plants with tea or feeding couscous to the cat, no matter how benign, just do it for her. Please. 

This includes:

• The dishes. (There is a LOT of lifting in dishes.) Plus, this helps not just the recently surgered, but the working significant other and/or roommates.
• A written log of patient’s medications taken. Day/Time/Amount.
• Meals and snacks.
• An offer to do laundry. (Clean jammies are a blessing, especially for those bedridden.)

Third, thank you. 

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Next Post 10/7:  “Why, hello there, sleepy! Don’t you look less lumpy?”

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Question:  What the nicest thing someone else has done for you when you were “out of it”?

Post 9 - Bosom Buddies

Now, I’d like to take a moment to speak with the guardians (the kind, patient, and devoted souls who volunteer to schlep us lumpy people around) regarding Surgery Day. Here’s some advice - just for you:

• Remember where you parked.
• Know where you need to pick up the patient afterwards. Sometimes there are special loading zones that are NOT on the same floor, or in the same building, as the surgical office. 
• Know how long the procedure is estimated to take.
• Once the patient is out of surgery, expect them to ask you 2-3 recurrent questions on a continuous loop, such as: “What time is it?” “How long did it take?” and “How are you?”

As a special gift, here is the BEST TIP EVER for Surgery Day:

• Ask the doctor or nurse for the patient’s prescription(s) (if any) BEFORE they go in. That way, you can run, get meds, and have them in hand by the time the procedure is done. And - voilà! No one has to make a stupid extra stop on the way home that takes 40 minutes (if you’re lucky) while a half-drugged, half-drowsy but significantly less lumpy person drools in your car. (Keep in mind, if you‘ve never filled for them before, make sure you use their regular pharmacy or have their insurance info.)

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Next Post 9/30:  “I hate women because they always know where things are.”  ~Voltaire

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Question: Have you ever been the guardian? Have any advice for newbies?

Post 8 - Surgery Day!

You’ve waited for it. You’ve planned for it. You might have even bought a special shirt for it. And now it’s finally here: Surgery Day.

Woo and hoo! No, wait. Boo and moo, more like. (Moo? Whatever.) 

After you’ve arrived at the hospital or surgical center, and been called back to the “special” waiting area, you’ll have a short interview with the assistant nurse. She’ll ask if you have eaten anything and you can proudly say you haven’t. (Unless you’re me. That one time.) 

If you’re having general anesthesia, you’ll meet and talk with the anesthesiologist. Be forewarned: this person is going to see your boobs. In fact, a few people will see them today. Possibly more people than you’ve ever willingly shown them to. 

Suck it up, Princess. You can handle this. 

You’ll probably be given paper slippers for your feet, maybe a cloth cap for your hair, and then led to another room. You’ll be instructed to undress from the waist up, put on a flimsy “cape” thing, and lay back on the operating table. 

After that, most of your responsibility is finished. Congrats! We’ll high five later - when you’re feeling up to it. 

In the meantime, here’s a funny story:

The first time I had surgery, I was really nervous. As soon as the anesthesiologist put my IV in, I started bawling. Quietly. To myself. It didn’t hurt - I was just nervous. 

The anesthesiologist noticed my tears. 

“Are you okay?”

I nodded. 

“Scared?”

I nodded again.

“Oh, well…" he said, at a loss for words. After a second, he brightened. "I bought a puppy home yesterday. Cutest little thing. All legs and ears.”

“Ooh, a puppy,” I said, smiling. Then BOOM. The drugs took effect, and I was out like a light. 

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Next Post 9/23:  To My Breast Friends

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Question: Have you a funny or amusing surgery story?