Well, hats off to all of you who have blogged the afternoon of your retrieval. You all are animals! I, on the other hand, am a complete wimp. But alas, I found myself unable to sleep (and finally able to manage the stairs) at 3 am this Saturday morning. So here I am.
My retrieval was a little eventful, probably more eventful than I'll even ever know. Mr. W and I bailed out of the house at 6:30am yesterday. I saw Mr. W had some reading material in tow, so I think perhaps he's bringing a little special treat for himself on production day. Turns out, it's the latest issue of Forbes. (OK.....everyone is different.)
Despite the fact that 4 retrievals are planned for my morning (I am second in line), I get a nice toasty private suite with a view and a cool convertible bed. The OR is conveniently adjacent to my room. IVF nurse comes in to start my IV....or try anyway....twice (both misses). She has my hands heat packed and spends a few minutes flicking the veins. She finally gets one in but it won't drip. Super Doc is standing there patiently not even saying a word. His eyes just tell me he is incredibly sorry. IVF nurse gives up and gets the anesthesiologist who says those attempts clearly will not work. She takes a look and Super Doc points to the protruding vein on top of my wrist. ....I can get that one, she says. ....I'm just going to go right for it, no messing around, no local...... And she does and it's all good. I'm whisked away to the OR and I'm out the minute we hit the door.
Twenty minutes later, I hear an announcement that they're done, followed by... Six, we got six..... Six? Six is more than three? Yay, six! It occurred to me that I had been dreaming I was harvesting grapes, while under. Hmmm, more symbolism. But not time to analyze that, oh shit, OW! OW? Holy crap. Mr. W and the IVF nurse quickly appear in my recovery room. ......You are in pain I can tell....she says.....I'm giving you a shot of Fetanyl...... Nice. She comes back a few minutes later, I'm giving you another bump on the painkiller and sending you home with Vicodin. The OR nurse is there explaining they had to "mash" on my abdomen quite aggressively to move the ovaries (apparently because they were holding hands against my back) in order to get them to move into position. I will likely be in more pain than normal. But I got six!! I point out to the nurse that RE's partner (doing my retrieval because RE is on vacation) was such the face of doom and gloom at my last u/s. She smiles and politely says....All of the RE's have very different personalities......
Super Doc grabs my chart and takes a glance then asks the nurse while pointing at the chart what was up? He has the slightest almost undetectable calm concern on his face. Apparently I had an 80/50 blood pressure while under with no explanation. OK, so six is great news, and I'm still here too!
The nurse insists I get up to use the restroom before I can leave which turns out to be a good idea. Walking back from the bathroom they notice I am pale, cold-sweating profusely, and am unable to stand. WTF? The nurses determine my blood sugar is extremely low and cram a Sprite down me. (I detest that stuff.) I can't believe after 20 years of insulin reactions with Mr. W that I can sniff out from a mile away, I have missed this sign in myself! Worse yet, Super Doc has missed it too! At this point, I am nauseous, exhausted, and just want to go home. They finally load me up in a wheel chair and whisk me out the back door. Yeah, if anyone else saw me, they'd likely not go through with this gig.
I spent the entire rest of the day in bed, mostly asleep and on Vicodin. I am swollen from the abdominal compressions and I feel like the Eurostar has derailed in my Chunnel. I will not have a lab report until sometime later today.