I am safe and sound at home after one hell of an experience. Truth is, I have been home for a few days, but wasn't feeling up to too much computer time. That changes today as the spark that ignites my red-hot wit reignites! HA
So this is the infamous hospital where my surgery took place Thursday- Xie He Yuan or Peking Union Medical College Hospital. I did my research, and despite appearances, this is one of the best hospitals in China. Apparently, people from all over the country come here and wait in endlessly long lines to be seen by a doctor.
As of the 2008 Beijing Olympics, it has a section specifically for foreigners. I had to go in Wednesday to check in and stay overnight before the surgery on Thursday. Accompanying me were these two lovely ladies- Mama Greene and Angella. Mama Greene was supposed to fly home a few days ago, but changed her flight to be able to be with me. She earns a rock star award for this one! Angella, is a friend's girlfriend. Her English is amazing and so is her kindness. She was essential to eliminating a lot of the confusion.
She couldn't quite tell us what this was about, however. As we are checking in, a van pulls up to the front door and two uniformed men with big guns jump out. We think it was some ambassador or something. Very odd. A man then walks in to the hospital accompanied by his guards. Hmm. Turns out, this would be the first in a series of strange things to happen that day.
As is typical in China, we had to go to about 4 different windows to register. I just love the fact that nurses here still look like old school nurses. They are full on with the hats and buns in their hair, all white uniforms and stethoscopes around their necks. Super cute.
No one could actually tell us why we had to be at the hospital at 2 PM the day before the surgery, but we checked in to our room and were pleasantly surprised. It was cleaner than I expected, quiet and we had the place to ourselves. I opted to go with surgery in the foreigner's part of the hospital after talking with my doctor. She says the staff is more highly qualified, facilities better, it has more advanced technology and different medicines. Of course my work won't pay for this level of health care. They told me it is only for high-level ministers and "important people".
Because I didn't want to recover from surgery on the floor in the Chinese side of the hospital's hallway, and feel I deserve highly trained medical personnel- I opted to go with costs out of my pocket. Once I feel 100%, work can expect a full-on battle over reimbursement. That's another story for another day.
Once in our room, a series of, how should I say this- troubling- events kept unfolding. Firstly, a nurse came into the room and said, "So Gretchen, you are here for a hysterectomy." WHAT?! HELL NO. My surgery is called a hysteroscopy. The doc is just supposed to remove the tumor, not my entire reproductive system. I don't care if that was a slip of the tongue because of the language barrier- we had to get that little snafu cleared up ASAP. Mama Greene suggested marking my body with a pen to say, "Don't cut here!"
Then there was the issue with my blood. They took it, messed it up and then had to re-take some. Before getting some sleep, I had to endure a dry shave of my lady parts. Can you say itchy? The girl who was doing it kept trying to carry on conversation with me. When you have a razor down there, especially one that you can neither see nor control, you feel like the person should be concentrating- not chit chatting. Plus, she kept saying "Vah- geen- ah" like it was going out of style, which in turn made me giggle and at a time like that, staying still is key.
The next day, we are awoken by a herd of doctors and nurses. Turns out the hospital couldn't figure out my blood type. They needed someone here stat to take my blood to another facility to have it tested. I called a work colleague who jumped out of bed and raced to the hospital. She shoved two vials of my blood in her purse and was set to be off until Mama Greene scoffed and said she should at least be given a baggie. We thought surgery would have to be postponed til they figured out my blood type. 6 long minutes later, the doc said they
would proceed as the chances that I would need a transfusion were very slim.
A few hours later, the mystery was solved. Turns out I am a mutant. I have type A blood but am RH negative (still not sure what this means). It is very rare, especially in Asia as most everyone is RH positive. Good thing we figured this out before I ever needed blood- sheesh.
As I was 4th in line for surgery that day, we ended up waiting til about 2 PM before the nurses came to get me. I was then told to get naked right there in the room and crawl under the covers. Apparently gowns are a luxury no matter what part of the hospital you are in. I was then wrapped up like a burrito and rolled out of the room. After a trip in the elevator, most of which I couldn't see because I was sans glasses and contacts, I was placed in a holding tank.
15 minutes in a room with another burrito-like patient was not a good thing. Time to think was what I had been trying to avoid. I was scared. Everyone was speaking Chinese so I had no idea what was going on. I just had to trust that I would get a hysteroscopy rather than a hysterectomy. I had to trust that I would get the right blood if I needed it. I had to trust that the surgeon knew what she was doing. I had to trust that I would wake up.
That last one is a toughie. Laying on the table being hooked up to things I can't see, people speaking words I can't understand- it was a blur. I just remember looking up at the lights and trying to decide what I wanted my last thoughts to be in this world in case something went wrong. I hope to never think like that again.
Anyways, I woke up about an hour later. I was rolled back into my room and was pretty disorientated. So was Mama Greene. She thought I would be awoken in another room and then brought back to see her. Instead, her and Angella had to be my post-surgery nurses.
Part of the problem was the huge amount of pain I was in. I thought something had to really be wrong for me to feel this way. The only other surgery I've had was an appendectomy. I woke in discomfort but not outright pain. I just couldn't understand why it hurt so bad. Turns out Chinese hospitals don't believe in pain medicine. They feel it is bad for recovery and want you to just work through it. Just work through it?! (Insert slew of swear words here.) Who has surgery without pain medicine?!? I am still furious about this. At least someone could have told me this little philosophy ahead of time. That little cultural difference bit me in the ass.
I lay there for what ended up being 2 hours crying and trying to focus on my breathing. Mama Greene and Angella were there to hold my hand and rub my back. It got so bad, Mama Greene told me later she almost passed out. After begging, the doc finally did give me some pain medication. However, I kept saying its not working. Why? It was Ibuprofen. No codeine for me people- the doc said that is too extreme. So is me punching her in the face- but I couldn't do that either.
Eventually, the pain subsided. I sucked it up, got dressed and felt well enough to go home. The doc gave me recovery instructions which include 2 weeks of bed rest. She wasn't going to send me home with any pain meds, but we convinced her to write a prescription, much to her chagrin. Good thing is, I haven't needed them. While I feel tired and sometimes a bit crampy, the pain is nothing I can't handle.
She also told me the surgeon found 2 masses in my uterus instead of just one. They are being sent for a biopsy, the results of which should be in on the 21st of May. She did say they looked like polyps which is a good thing as they are benign growths.
So while I wait for the results, I get to hang out at home. Thankfully, my wonderful friends and co-workers have been generous enough to pay me multiple visits. The support fills my heart and overwhelms my brain. I am very lucky to have gone through this in a foreign country while being surrounded by such good people (mmm homemade potato soup- thanks Scotty!). I am even luckier to have had a surrogate Mom with me the entire time. I am forever grateful, as is my family.
I'll keep you all posted more now that I am feeling a bit better. Hopefully, I can be done with these crappy blogs about my health aka Vah-geen-ah issues, and move on to the good stuff....
Love,
G
PS- I decided not to slip the doc a little red envelope. Perhaps the reason I didn't get the pain meds was because I didn't bribe her! HA
