Tag Archives: cocaine

SURGERY, COCAINE, AND LIMA BEANS

I know, I know, you’re all waiting to hear if I “felt” the 400 mg of cocaine up my nose, right?

I did not. All I remember feeling was that old-man anesthesiologist who slurred his words and stabbed me with what he claimed was their smallest needle to start my IV.

Starting IVs are always the worst part of surgery for me.  I’m not an easy vein person.  The inserter tends to infiltrate or my blood pressure is so low that the veins just flatten like a wet slip ‘n slide.  Not fun – lends itself to lots of jabbin’ around.  Of course, I had to zing back at him, “that can’t be your smallest IV needle in the hospital, and they sometimes use children’s needles on me.”   Aren’t I a snot?   He said nothing in return thank goodness, because you know I wouldn’t have backed down.  (Yes, I know this is a flaw of mine.)  Why would he say something so foolish?  Had I embarrassed the elf-skinned barnacle by covering my mouth and “yikes” with my spare hand when he stabbed me?  I hope so.  You shouldn’t just go around stabbing people.  You should go around inserting, not stabbing.    Just don’t mess with me.  But, he was my gas man, why was I trying to fight with him?  He was supposed to be giving me extra antinauseant – and here I was sparing with him?  Dumbass.

Down three hallways and a right and I was given my “cocktail” and an oxygen mask.  I woke up without all the dreaded, painful packing they usually jam up your nose so the cocaine worked!  This must be the reason I feel about the same right now as when I had my nose cauterized years before.  Or maybe I’m feeling fine because of the tylenol and codeine.  Hmmmmm.

Interestingly enough, the doctor not only cleaned out my sinuses, turbenectomied (I just made up another word) me, straightened my septum, but he also found four roguish polyps.  Yeah, might they have anything to do with my “facial migraines?”  One was the size of a lima bean he said, and the other three were the size of peas.  I was growing a dankish vegetable garden up there – gross.  Huh!

So I’ve been sitting up in bed since noon at home all day – cannot sleep.  I have to stay in a sitting-up position, which is probably why I can’t sleep on top of my normal menopause can’t sleep.  Not complaining (this time), I’ve got my computer, book, and TV, and Marty not snoring at the moment.

I have no idea if 400 mg (of the cocaine) is what he said.  I think that’s what he said.  But I also saw kitty cats sitting on mantles and bugs crawling the walls when I woke up.  Whatever.

Love, Little Miss Lima Bean

COCAINE WITH YOUR SURGERY, MADAME?

I’ve never done any type of illegal drug.  Never.  I can’t even say, “I didn’t inhale” because no joint never even came to my lips.  Clinton was so silly, wasn’t he?

As of right now, my alarm will go off in four hours.   Tomorrow morning, I go under the chisel and mallet.  Not kidding.  I’m having my deviated septum fixed and having those nasty turnbinates taken out of the way of my encumbered path of breathing through my nose.  I made the mistake of watching the surgery on YouTube.  YUCK.  All my other surgeries I feel I could have done myself – I could have taken my own gallbladder out, my own Madame Bovary out, my own adhesions out, my own breast lump out, put my own screws in my feet, fixed my own shoulder.  But this one has me freaked.  Someone’s actually going to banging on my face, with a mallet.  That’s the stuff you see Daffy Duck doing.  Or the Roadrunner.

The biggest thing everyone complains about after this surgery is that they have to pack your nose with a gazillion feet of gauze-type packing which proves to be painful.   Taking it out is apparently not only disgusting but uncomfortable.  Well my doctor said he doesn’t use it.  He uses cocaine as it’s a great vasoconstrictor.  Great, my first time I could “trip” without guilt  and I’ll be asleep for it.

A lot of my friends have had the surgery, they most often suggest  to have plenty of Chapstick around since I’ll be breathing out of my mouth for three or so days.  I can remember my sister telling me to “SHUT UP” when we were watching TV because I was breathing through my mouth, loudly, apparently.   I’ve never been able to breathe really well through my nose.

All this is done in hopes of making a path of clear sailing up to my brain.  New evidence shows that migraines could come from a lack of oxygen and the vessels in your head constrict.  We always knew I lacked oxygen to my brain (seems obvious?), but maybe there’s actually something to it.  Plus those darn turbonates apparently are giving off negative ions.  ?  I kid you not.

So think of me as you’re reading this, I’ll have a nice straight septum, you will not most likely; my swollen inflamed turbinates will be gone, yours most likely will not; and I will be enjoying pain medication, you most likely will not.

Love, Little Miss Sunshine.

PS: Don’t know if you noticed I left one major surgery out that I know I could not have done myself.  Just can’t reach there, ya know?