Vanderbilt Hospital for an Appendectomy

5 am is definitely an early start for a night owl like me, but surprisingly I managed to get some sleep before my 8 am surgery. I figured my two-hour surgery would give me time to catch up on missed sleep. I woke up slightly nauseous, likely due to nerves, and given my tendency to faint due to vagus nerve syndrome, I took 4 mg of Zofran to be on the safe side. I didn’t want passing out to delay this surgery!

My support team, consisting of Joe and LeeAnn, and I stumbled to the car with a small overnight bag, including my pillow and a soft blanket, and some snacks. I had to be at Vanderbilt at 6 am, to check in for my 8 am surgery.

We pulled right up to valet, and they directed us to the check-in desk. Checking in was a pleasant experience and a great way to start a stressful day. Sitting at the check-in desk were a man and woman, who I think may have been married; they were so bright and cheery at 6 am, I could hardly believe it! We joked, laughed, and told stories before being directed to the waiting area. 

We hadn't been there five minutes when Kevin came out from behind closed doors and started calling names. There were about ten of us, and we were allowed one guest to accompany us to pre-op. Needless to say, my daughter was the chosen one, as she would lose her mind worrying if she was not right by my side.

Kevin, the leader of the group, explained the protocol and told everyone where the cafeteria and Pannera were located, so the guests could get food, coffee, etc. after the lucky chosen ones were taken back for surgery.

He was also cheerful, and I felt as though I had been dropped in OZ vs an actual hospital. It is amazing how a little bit of humor and kindness can make a stressful and scary situation so much more “enjoyable”.

As we walked through the closed doors, he started dropping people off at their assigned cubicles. Mine was somewhere in the middle, right next to the bathroom, which was a total score!

A nurse immediately greeted us and handed me the infamous hospital gown. Since the bathroom was right there, I quickly changed and hopped into bed.

While in pre-op, I had a revolving door of visitors. The first one arrived to put a soft, cushy football-looking thing on my lower back and tailbone. Of course, I said, “What is that?” She explained that the operating table was really hard, and they didn’t want me to bruise or be uncomfortable, and this would help prevent that from happening.

Needless to say, I was impressed! I have never seen or heard of anything like that before, but I could immediately tell it would be appreciated. 

I was also quite impressed at how comfortable the bed was, and when I started feeling chilled, instead of a warm blanket, which always cooled down too quickly for my taste, they turned on a hose that blew continuous warm air between me and the covers. It was heaven!

Next came the IV nurse. As we were chatting, it turned out that she also has chronic myelogenous leukemia! What a surprise, as I have never met anyone in the general public with the same type of rare leukemia that I have. She was recently diagnosed and doing well on Sprycel, which was my first line of treatment, too. What a coincidence.

Once the IV was placed, I thought that we would have some quiet time while we waited, but boy was I wrong. They came in to draw blood to check clotting factors, among other routine blood work; another nurse confirmed all medical allergies, including adhesives.

Several residents came in to ask if it would be alright to observe my surgery, including one who explained he would be “the cameraman”. We then visited with an anesthesiologist, and then the head of that department, who explained he would be floating between two operating rooms, but Nick, the main dude, would stay with me 100% of the time. 

I explained my Vegus nerve syndrome and told them I had taken Zofran at 6 am. I also said that I am often nauseous after anesthesia, and did not want to throw up and pass out after surgery, but if I did, that it was normal for me. “Don’t Panic”!

As a precaution, they gave me another dose of Zofran, and a patch behind my ear to combat any nausea I may experience; they also said they would be closely monitoring me after surgery. I absolutely love how everyone at Vanderbilt actually listens to you and addresses your concerns. 

Being proactive in this scenario gave me a lot of peace.

I made them reassure me that I would indeed wake up, and I felt extremely comfortable with the in-depth questions they asked and their earnest explanation of how they would be caring for me while I was knocked out. 

Finally, the star of the show entered my cubicle: the oncology surgeon. She reassured me that she would do her very best to remove my appendix laparoscopically and take the greatest care in performing the surgery.

She recapped the surgery, and we discussed all possible complications and outcomes. She then gave me a big hug and her personal cell phone number in case we had questions after the surgery. She also said that she would see me when I woke up.

Next thing I knew, 7:55 am rolled around and I was headed to the operating room right on time. Shocking, right?

I said my good-byes to LeeAnn, and told her I would see her in a few hours.

In the operating room, I saw all of the familiar faces from pre-op. I reminded them all that the most important thing was that I woke up. Once I saw the surgeon with my own eyes, I gave the go-ahead to knock me out.

As they started the sleepy medication, I felt someone reach under the blanket and squeeze my hand. It was such a simple gesture, but it sent me into a peaceful sleep that I remembered upon waking up.

It didn’t take long for me to say, “And this is just about lights out…..”!

Waking up from surgery is always weird. You hear your name being called from somewhere, far, far away, and then your eyes pop open. I immediately remembered my hand being held, and how much comfort that gave me.

Next, I looked at the clock. I noticed it was nearly 11:00 am. A two-hour surgery was anticipated, so I asked why it took longer. 

He told me they were able to remove the appendix laparoscopically, and that it took longer because they were waiting for pathology. He couldn’t speak for the surgeon, but thought it went well.

My surgeon showed up shortly afterwards, and said she was pleasantly surprised at how little scarring I had in my abdomen, and that everything went well. The biopsy was negative, and there were no other signs of my ovarian tumors reappearing. It truly was the best-case scenario. I was so grateful and relieved.

It didn’t take long before I started to experience a searing pain at the extraction site of the appendix. It was BAD! I was shocked at how quickly a nurse arrived with pain meds that settled the pain down to a manageable state. They also helped me put on an abdominal compression belt that helped tremendously. 

Everything from here on out was a bit of a blur until I was settled in my room. I remember seeing Joe and giving him the go-ahead to head home. I know Michael and Megan had been there during surgery, too. They were also released from duty.

My daughter, however, stayed for the long haul. She was by my side every step of the way, and she continued to help me up and down to the bathroom and made sure I was comfortable all night long. Kevin also showed up to visit several times. It is nice to feel so loved.

I was curious how the care would be once I was in my room, and I am here to tell you that I received the best care I have ever had in a hospital. Attentive, prompt, kind, and thorough.

They kept my pain under control, checked back regularly, and even had a “TV nurse” pop in once a day to check on me! That was so crazy! 

The staff also brought in an egg-crate for Lee Ann’s chair along with pillows, blankets, and sheets. I didn’t need an egg-crate, as the bed was actually comfortable.

Our night consisted of searing pain every time I had to get up to go to the bathroom, which was often, due to the IV;  pain meds, blood draws, and BP checks.

As expected, no rest for the wicked! On the upside, they always closed the door so the room was dark and quiet, and never turned on blaring lights.

I found it interesting that there was no pain where the appendix was, only pain from where it was removed. Apparently it was quite large and had to be manipulated through muscle.

Sometime during the afternoon, after many checks from the surgeon’s office, nurses, bloodwork, etc. I was able to go home. 

Discharge showed up with medications, and they called for a wheelchair. This was the only time we had to wait for anything. After about 30 minutes, I asked Lee Ann to see if a wheelchair was available so she could push me out to the car. 

What happened next surprised us both! The nurse on duty came in with the wheelchair and wheeled me to the car.

I cannot speak more highly of my experience at Vanderbilt Hospital in Nashville. It was exceptional, and the aftercare and check-ins that continued for a month were pretty impressive, too.

Bravo, Vanderbilt, and goodbye appendix!

Life is good; I am blessed and grateful.

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