Home.
I've never had an operation before, and while it was only my wisdom teeth being extracted, I couldn't help a little anxiety. Sometimes I get anxious, naturally. Being a paronoid person has that effect.
There were quite a few people who were going in and coming out, so that was rather distressing.
As for the actual operation, I think there weren't any problems. It was the aftermath that was a little strange.
Just before I was going to be discharged, the nurse checked my pulse and blood pressure for a final time. My blood pressure was a little elevated, but my heart rate was fluxing around 145. It should have been nearing to 80.
So, I was to wait. My mother had arrived, so she sat with me, but I could feel my anxiety go up and up - I was freaking out, a notion to which the nurse was doubtful of (I honestly thought she didn't believe me). I wasn't going to lie to her, so what else was I supposed to admit? I was disstressed and everytime I thought about my heart rate, it jumped.
In the end, the anaethetist had to come in and check me himself. I had taken more painkillers, the nurse thinking it was the pain that was causing my heart rate to rise. My heart was profiled and he checked it, etc. It was regular, just fast. At this time, we'd been there an extra two and a half hours and it was 9pm.
I chose to come home. They were questioning whether to admit me overnight, as I was only a day patient, in order to moniter my heart rate. Whoa. Wave of nausea.
*sigh* I haven't thrown up this morning, but once I returned home... I'll spare the details.
It's not been pleasant. Plus, I hate taking medication.
Alright. I need to try and rest my eyes, fight this nausea. The pain killers won't absorb. Erg.
But I am okay. I just detest this.
There were quite a few people who were going in and coming out, so that was rather distressing.
As for the actual operation, I think there weren't any problems. It was the aftermath that was a little strange.
Just before I was going to be discharged, the nurse checked my pulse and blood pressure for a final time. My blood pressure was a little elevated, but my heart rate was fluxing around 145. It should have been nearing to 80.
So, I was to wait. My mother had arrived, so she sat with me, but I could feel my anxiety go up and up - I was freaking out, a notion to which the nurse was doubtful of (I honestly thought she didn't believe me). I wasn't going to lie to her, so what else was I supposed to admit? I was disstressed and everytime I thought about my heart rate, it jumped.
In the end, the anaethetist had to come in and check me himself. I had taken more painkillers, the nurse thinking it was the pain that was causing my heart rate to rise. My heart was profiled and he checked it, etc. It was regular, just fast. At this time, we'd been there an extra two and a half hours and it was 9pm.
I chose to come home. They were questioning whether to admit me overnight, as I was only a day patient, in order to moniter my heart rate. Whoa. Wave of nausea.
*sigh* I haven't thrown up this morning, but once I returned home... I'll spare the details.
It's not been pleasant. Plus, I hate taking medication.
Alright. I need to try and rest my eyes, fight this nausea. The pain killers won't absorb. Erg.
But I am okay. I just detest this.