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As I looked around the operating room, I was struck by the technicality of it all. The room itself was rather large, and I could see a bevy of machines, lights, and tools. I was greatly surprised at the number of people in the room. In addition to the nurse who wheeled me in, there were at least four doctors waiting – doctors I didn’t know or recognize.
I remember that two of the figures were sitting at desks with computers. I was told that these two doctors were residents, and they were also male. As I climbed onto the table, I struggled to keep my hiney hidden under my gown, even though they were clearly going to see my vagina during the course of the surgery.
Someone put a mask over my face, telling me they were giving me some meds to help me "relax." The next thing I remember is waking up in the recovery room.
As I awoke, I was wheeled into a spot among several other post-surgical patients, and I was separated from them by curtains. I felt a burning pain in my pelvis that felt exactly like menstrual cramps. I told the nurses that it hurt immensely and that I was in a lot of pain. I was told that I would receive medication shortly, which I don't remember ever happening.
I was eventually taken to my post-op room, which was exactly like my pre-op room, complete with a familiar cabinet, recliner, two chairs, and a sink. My husband was waiting for me, along with a nurse (who I’ll always remember) named BJ. BJ asked me how I was feeling, and I told her that I was in a lot of pain. She helped me find some meds and made me feel a lot better about the whole thing.
After a few minutes, the burning pain subsided. I was able to converse with my husband and the nurses. Your main goal after surgery is always to be able to give a urine sample, and after some water and two cups of coffee, I could finally go to the bathroom. I peed into a large cup that measured my urine. I was then escorted out of the hospital in a wheelchair after stopping by the pharmacy for some pain meds, and was sent home with my husband.
The ride home was quite painful. My stomach was bruised and swollen, and I could feel each little bump in the road. But once I got home, I was thankful that I had made it through the surgery and everything was going to be alright. And because I having a feeling that this article won't be complete until I add a few notes about my recovery, you can all look forward to that for next week.
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Shaina Gaul is a feminist and freelance writer living in Iowa. View more of her writing at http://www.toasterbyte.com.
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