Port Surgery Part 1

My port surgery was scheduled for Wednesday morning at 10:00. It was the only time they had available and although I was glad it was in the morning I was really nervous about fasting that long! As a cyster I am used to eating a big breakfast and knowing how slow hospital are I figured I would not be in surgery until lunch time which meant I would be desperately hungry!

Luckily, chasing a 16 month old kept me busy enough that I wasn't able to get too nervous about the upcoming procedure. Around 9:30 my mom showed up to watch Kaylee and my husband and I headed over to the hospital where my dad met us in the waiting room. Unfortunately (or fortunately??) I am very familiar with the waiting room since I get my PICCs in radiology so I have spent a little too much time in those worn out chairs. However, today was the first time that I walked into an empty waiting room! I thought that maybe, for once, things would move quickly and everyone would be on time. I should have known better, when has a hospital ever been on time?

I was brought into pre-op and quickly realized I have spent too much time in radiology because every single nurse already knew me, knew I had CF, and knew I was a hard PICC placement. And when the radiologist came out to talk to me about the procedure, she knew me as well! In fact, she placed my last PICC and even remembered our conversation during my PICC placement.

Soon after being brought back they were getting ready to hook up my IV. Since I already had a PICC they decided to use that instead of starting a new IV which oddly enough was such a huge relief. I don't mind needles, but if you don't have to be stabbed, why would you? It also made me feel, despite not actually using my PICC, the daily dressing changes, lack of showering, and the obscene amount of gauze wrapped around my arm for the last week was actually kinda worth it...or maybe not. They gave me a dose of antibiotics (preventative in case bacteria found its way in during surgery) and explained the procedure to me. I then waited and waited and waited (shocker, right?).

I was asked by several nurses if laying flat was a problem for my lungs (which luckily it is not an issue at all for me), if I had ever been intubated (eek, no!), and how my lungs handle being put under (who knows??). They were clearly being cautious about my CF which started to make me nervous. I really had no idea how my lungs would react since the last time I was put under I was 14 and was significantly healthier than I am today. My oxygen levels were fine and the radiologist said I was moving air nicely so I figured all would be well. Right?

After waiting an obscene amount of time they finally wheeled me into the operating room...