I managed to go 29 years without a surgery and in the space of four months I've had two - one major and the other minor. The first, an emergency c-section at 3:00 AM, was unplanned and a bit scary. The second was a routine D&C, planned and only really scary because I had more time to think about it. The first one I received a beautiful baby girl and the second one I produced a 3-cm fibroid. The one thing that was the same? Anesthesia!
To my great amusement, I retained an assortment of last-minute/first-minute thoughts on the period of time right before going under and the period of time when I'm starting to wake up. Its unclear to me why my brain saved these juicy bits of nonsense - perhaps to help me put a good spin on otherwise unpleasant experiences. So, here they are in as much of an order as I can figure out (still slightly dopey from surgery #2 and the aforementioned anesthesia).
Going In - Surgery #1
*"I don't think that mask is just for oxygen. What? Take a deep breath....."
*"Crap. I really didn't want a catheter and bladder bag."
Coming Out - Surgery #1
*As the nurse was attempting to squish my stomach together for unknown reasons and the pain hit full force I let out a very pitiful "Whhhyyyy?"
Coming Out - Surgery #2
*"This is the best nap I've had since Emma was born. I'm going to close my eyes and keep sleeping."
*Then overheard from the attending nurse "Her heartbeat is really low. She must be a serious athlete or runner." I hear giggling in my head.
*Then the direct question: "Your hearbeat is really low. Are you a runner or athlete?" Pause. My mind is processing and actually trying to figure out how to answer (clearly vanity has overcome honesty). My face must have given me away. The nurse continued, "Do you want to tell me that you're an athlete." "I kinda do." "That's fine by me. I don't know you well enough to know if you are or aren't." I smile and try to roll over in a more comfortable position.
*Laying on my side in a comfortable position a breeze ruffles my gown, and I understand that my fanny hangeth out. I hear giggling in my head; I don't care.
And those, my loyal 3 readers, are what we call drugged friffles :)