Recap part two: Jan. 14, pre-surgery

Morning
After a mostly sleepless night, I woke up at 3 a.m. on Wednesday, Jan. 14, to get ready to go to the hospital. I took a long shower since I figured it would be a while before my next shower or at least my next time to enjoy showering. I used the Hibiclens, an antiseptic wash that I have been using once day for the last week at doctor's orders, on my chest, abdomen and back. It helps reduce the chances for infection in the operating area. When I got out, I used the Bactroban one last time, which is an ointment I swab once in each nostril, also to reduce infection.

My mother put my hair in two braids, a tip I got from SSO, to keep my hair looking decent in the days to come when I may be moved around quite a bit and not wanting to brush. I threw a few more things in my bag, woke up Matt and tried to get everyone out the door by 4:30 a.m. Of course, we were running late. Thankfully, at that time in the morning, no one is driving, so it took us half the time it usually does to make the drive to Baylor in Plano.

Waiting room
When we got to the hospital, we went straight to the second floor to register. We (my mom, dad, Matt and I; Wendy showed up maybe 20 or 30 minutes after us) were in a large waiting room filled with other people waiting to have surgery and their families. The Guest Services Coordinator Robin walked around checking off the patients' names from a list. Then one by one we were called to a desk to really register. I was given a bracelet with my information on it and signed some papers. I almost cried, but thankfully held it back. At this point, the panic was starting to rise inside of me.

I sat back down with my family, kind of. Every few minutes I would decide I needed to use the ladies room and would go to the closest one. I hadn't eaten or drank anything since midnight the night before (doctor's orders), so this was mostly just my nerves. On one of my trips, a nurse came to get me to take me back, and I wasn't there. He left and said he'd come get me later. Eventually we were in the same place at the same time. He said that I could bring back one person with me for now, and that the rest of my family could come see me once I'm settled in my own pre-op room. I picked my mother, which made her happy. As if I would pick anyone else in this situation!

More testing and waiting
The nurse took my blood pressure, low as always (116/69), weight (I'll keep that one to myself) and gave me a hospital gown and some hose to put on my legs. I was taken to my own room to change and to provide a urine sample. Once I was settled, another nurse came in and asked me a million questions that have already been asked to me a million times before. These people are thorough.

She took more blood and told me that I would need to take the elastic out of my hair. I told her that it was to keep my hair out of the way and that I had asked one of the other nurses about it in a previous appointment and she has said it was ok. This nurse said no. Apparently, elastic is flammeable, and there is some kind of miniscule chance that they may catch fire. Seriously. That was the reason. I took them out and messed up my hair.

She then started my IV. My first one, I think. She told me not to worry that she would numb the area. Yeah, right. She put some numbing cream on it and immediately started to insert the IV with no time between to allow the cream to work. It hurt.

The anesthesiologist came in to talk to me. I asked him my questions about what if I wake up in the middle, is there anyway I would feel it, etc. He gave me all the right answers. Then an OR (operating room) nurse came in to talk to me.

By this point, I'm in the gown, I have an IV in my arm, I have all these doctors and nurses in my room, my dad, Matt and Wendy have come to the room, and I start to panic. I cry. I can't help it. I was so scared! I've been dealing with scoliosis since I was 11, fighting against doctors who wanted to operate until recently, and moving toward surgery for the last six months. It was all about to happen, everything was going to change and I was freaked out.

Dr. Hostin came to talk to me and make sure I was ok. He was very non-chalant about it all. Surgeons are a different breed. It helped me to stop crying.

The anesthesiologist came back to give me happy meds and send me to la la land. I hugged and kissed all my family goodbye and that was all I really remember. I vaguely remember being wheeled away, I think. Next up, my surgery.