Week two, in pictures

Here's my second week, post-surgery, in photographic form.

On Day 9, I went for lymph drainage massage.
This is a very gentle massage that helps reduce swelling.
I saw an immediate difference.
It was like the puffiness was melting away.
I wish I'd have started these treatments the day after surgery.

I was not a happy camper on Day 10. Can you tell?
I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me.
I just crashed. My whole body hurt and I felt really depressed.
I thought the surgery was just catching up to me.
That, or I was losing it.
I later found out that they give you steroids during the surgery and these get you all wired for about a week, and then you crash and go through withdrawal.
Glad to know I'm not going crazy after all.

By Day 12, the swelling and bruising was almost gone.
I'm starting to look like my usual cute self!

Two weeks after the surgery and there's no more bruising.
A bit of swelling remains, but I'm the only one who can see it.

A week in pictures

The first week, post-surgery, in oh-so-flattering full-colour.

This picture was taken right after the surgery.

A friend of mine commented, "You look so tired in this picture."

I responded, "I wasn't tired. I was stoned."

And the swelling begins.

I loved those ice packs like my own mother.

Determined to keep a positive attitude.
After all the high-fiving, I switched to a thumbs up.

The swelling gets worse, but surprisingly, I'm not dead.

The swelling peaked on Day 3.
This was my last full day in the hospital.

Finally at home.

Can you tell I was not a fan of Day 4?

And now, we have the oh-so-alluring yellow/green bruises.

On Day 6, the bruising was worse.
The liquid diet started to get to me.
I contemplated hunting down Mrs. Vickie and holding her ransom for a handful of her salt and vinegar delicacies.

The swelling's almost gone after a week. Yay!

A lovely shot of the stitches they put in my cheeks

(that's where they put the screws in.)

A close-up of my sexy bruises.

My wired and elasticized jaw.
A friend told me this wasn't what she expected.
"It looks like pimped out braces," she said.
Oh yeah. Rappers got nothin' on me.

My left hand bruising, where the intern screwed up my IV line.

I got the external cheek stitches taken out on Day 8.
I felt much less freakish afterward.

Look ma! No stitches!
It was insane how quickly these cuts healed.
By Day 13, you could barely tell I had ever had stitches there.

Pre-braces pictures

For reference, these were the pictures my orthodontist took before I got the braces put on, a little more than two years ago.

As you can see, I had an overbite, a bit of a crossbite, and a slightly crooked smile.

Under the bone saw, part three

The next thing I remember is waking up in the recovery room. The room waves and spins around me. A really nice nurse asks how I'm doing. I mumble, "High five" and hold my hand up for her. She high fives me back. I feel a bit of pain, but not much. What's worse is that my entire body itches really, really badly. I start scratching my face and arms.

"Oh, are you itchy?" she asks. "The pain medication does that. I'll give you some Benadryl." She adds something to my IV line and the itching slowly goes away. After awhile, she tells me that it's time to take me to my hospital room. My bed starts moving and I realize I'm being pushed down the hallway.

I pretend to drive the bed like a race car. Every time we turn a corner, I turn my imaginary steering wheel and make a muffled "Vroom" noise. As we wheel down the hallway, I also wave to everyone we go by: nurses, doctors, other patients, visitors. They all smile and wave back. Some of them laugh. I keep "driving" my bed.

"You're the happiest surgical patient I have ever seen," one of the nurses says.

When we get to my room, BF is waiting there for me. I, of course, high-five him. He tells me that he talked to my surgeon afterward and he said that the surgery went really well and there were no complications. I later found out that my surgeon had told me the exact same thing in the recovery room, and I had high-fived him. I have absolutely no recollection of this.

One of the nurses brings me some ice packs to wrap around my head. Then, they introduce me to the morphine dispenser. Anytime I felt too much pain, I could push this button and it would dispense morphine. I quickly fall in love with him and name him George.

I write on my white board that I want BF to call my mom and brother to tell them I'm okay. Then, I get him to call one of my friends who lives in The Big City. I hear him say "Hi" to her and pause, then say, "She LIVES!!" in a crazy overdramatic voice.

This was fun. I get him to call everyone I can possibly think of - my boss, my coworker, a bunch of my friends, even the ones living in other parts of the country. I'm sure if I had my grandparents' phone number in Italy handy, I would have had him call them, too. I really don't want to see that phone bill.

After BF leaves, I update my online peeps on how I'm doing. I had smuggled my handheld into the hospital and was on Twitter and Facebook almost immediately. I have no recollection of some of the things I wrote on people's Facebook walls, but I do know they were riddled with spelling errors. What I do have a record of is my status updates while I was in the hospital. They include:

Bella:

Feb. 12:

• is not dead.
• really likes the happy morphine dispensing button. Mmmm...incapacitating.
• wonders if it's weird to be having this much fun in the hospital. And that's not just the drugs talking.

Feb. 13:

• is the queen of eating through a syringe.
• is thinking some sleep would be nice, but some morphine would be even better.
• thinks this would be the perfect time to make some crank calls. No one would recognize her voice with her jaw wired shut!
• looks like a puffer fish, only more swollen and bruised.
• is the cutest chick on the ward.
• is going to miss the morphine. She named him George. RIP George.

Feb. 14:

• is celebrating passing gas by high-fiving nurses. Apparently, this is a big deal in post-surgery land, which isn't nearly as magical without George. RIP George. He is missed.
• is asking everyone with a non-wired-shut jaw to masticate some chocolate on her behalf and also do some romantic things that involve using your mouth.
• is finally off morphine and wondering what the heck she's been writing on everyone's Facebook walls?

Feb. 15:

• looks like a car crash victim and is glad she has a good sense of humour.

I know this will sound weird, but my hospital stay was actually a lot of fun. The nurses were amazing and also had good senses of humour. I'm sure they appreciated someone who wasn't whiny and in a bad mood. Every nurse I had shook her head at me and said she'd never seen a surgical patient this happy before.

Hey, I finally got the surgery I was waiting the past two years for, my surgery went without a hitch, I'm in a hospital with super nice nurses, George the morphine dispenser is my new boyfriend (sorry BF), hospital staff bring me juice, "food" and ice packs (and also heat up my teddy bear for me when I ask really nice), I get to hang out in bed in my pajamas all day, and I have awesome friends who visit and bring me Booster Juice and presents. What isn't there to be happy about?

I got out of the hospital on Valentine's Day and have been home ever since. It's not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Eating is a bit frustrating, but workable. The pain is there, but manageable. And the swelling and bruises aren't pleasant, but they're fading each day.

I just feel grateful to have had this experience and still be here to blog about it. Thanks, everyone, for your good wishes. It's really meant a lot.

Under the bone saw, part two

The anesthesiologist and the intern went away, leaving BF and I to wait some more. I looked up at the clock and tried not to get nervous. He held my hand. Then, the intern came back and apologetically asked me one of the questions I had already been asked. Hey, at least they're thorough. I answered him and he left again.

A few minutes later, a nurse clad in operating room scrubs and one of those surgical shower caps came into the room to get me.

Nurse: Hi, Bella. It's time for you to go to the operating room. I'll be with you the whole time.
Bella: In that case [holding her hand up]...pre-surgery high-five!
Nurse: Uh...okay [high-fives Bella back and laughs.]

I turned to BF and gave him a big hug and kiss. I told him I'd see him soon and that I hoped he had fun doing whatever he was going to do for the next two-and-a-half hours. He walked one way, and I followed the nurse in the other direction. Neither of us turned our backs - we watched each other walk away. Just as we were about to leave through our separate doors, BF stopped and said, "Merde!"

I gave him a quizzical look, then burst into huge smile. I sometimes forget that he used to work professionally in the theatre.

"Merde!" I called back at him.

Well, that's one thing I didn't expect to be yelling across a surgical waiting room right before I went under the bone saw. But whatever works, right?

The nurse took me down the hallway and pointed to a bed outside the operating room. "That's your bed," she said."Oh, okay," I responded and sat down on it, preparing to lie down.

"Oh, she meant that it will be your bed after the surgery," said another nurse.

"Oh," I said and got up. "In that case, I do find this bed to my liking and I approve it for my post-surgery use." [Bella makes some ridiculous hand motions as though she is blessing the bed and the nurses laugh.]

The reason I was a bit confused was because anytime you see someone go into surgery on television, they get wheeled in on a stretcher. I guess it's more dramatic than walking into the operating room and hopping up on the table yourself, which is what I did. I thought they'd at least sedate me first, but there was none of that. I walked into that room stone-cold sober.

The room itself surprised me, too. It was so...bright. I mean, it makes sense that the room would be bright - you want the surgeons to be able to see what they're doing - but I expected it to be a more sterile, florescent light kind of bright. You know, like on Grey's Anatomy.

Instead, it was a small room filled with natural light from a wall of windows facing a park. The ground and trees outside were covered in a fresh blanket of snow and the sun's reflection off it flooded the room with even more light. There were also large medical lights, but the room was so bright on its own, it didn't even seem like they were plugged in.

The nurse told me to take off my robe. When I handed it to her, she complimented me on my back tattoo. I told her the story behind the tattoo to distract myself from the fact that my butt was hanging out of the hospital gown. I was glad she didn't comment on that!

I climbed up onto the table and lay down. There was a flurry of activity around me, a team of people bustling around getting everything ready. I'm not even sure how many there were; I just tried to block it out so I didn't start freaking. The table itself wasn't what I had expected, either. It was shaped like a cross, with two "arms" extending on either side. I stretched my arms out onto them and waited for something to happen.

The anesthesiologist intern crouched by my left hand and started tapping my vein to insert the intravenous needle. I tried to chat with him, asking whether he could give me a manicure while he was down there, but he seemed very intent on his task. He used a smaller needle to freeze the area, then put in a very large needle. I looked away and squinted at the pain. Something had gone wrong and he called the anesthesiologist over to see. The needle had gone into the vein wrong and it wouldn't work, or something. I'm not entirely sure what happened. All I knew was that it hurt.

The anesthesiologist moved to my right hand and started tapping the vein there. "See," she said to him. "She's got great veins. You just have to coax them out."

"It's true. I'm so fabulous that even my veins are fabulous!" I said in a dramatic voice.

They laughed and the intern put an oxygen mask over my face.

"He's going to give you some oxygen before we give you the anesthetic through the IV," she said.

I breathed into the mask. It was fine, until they let the anesthetic loose in my veins. I felt as though I were drowning, choking on water. I felt like I was fainting and coming to at the same time, before I was hit by a wave of nausea. I started coughing and gasping for air and looked up pleadingly at the anesthesiologist to save me, because if this isn't what it feels like to die, I don't know what does.

"Don't worry, Bella, we..."

And that's all I remember.

Under the bone saw, part one

We went to the Big City Hospital at 10:30 a.m. the day of the surgery.

I went to admissions and jumped through all the hoops, answering the same questions again and again from several different people:

"Are you allergic to anything?" No.
"Are you on any drugs?" Yes. Please give me some more. I can't deal with this.

After awhile, we were ushered into a semi-private hospital room. I was given a bag of hospital clothes and told to take everything off and change into them. Coming out of the bathroom, I modelled the hideous green backless gown and ugly blue robe for my boyfriend.

Then we sat there and waited. And waited. And waited. The sign on the wall said, "Your pre-surgery assessment visit can take up to four hours." The words "OR LONGER" were written in bold capitals below it in black marker. "Do you think that was written by a staff person or a patient?" the BF asked.

I spent the time trying to distract myself from thinking about how hungry and thirsty I was, as I had been told not to have anything to eat or drink since midnight the previous night. I unpacked some of the things I had brought to the hospital - a cute framed picture of us, a Warm Buddy stuffed dog, magazines - trying to make it seem more homey and, again, trying to distract myself from the inevitable. BF asked one of the nurses if I'd be in the same room after the surgery. The answer was "no." So, I repacked everything again. At least it was something to do.

At some point, a nurse came in, put down a binder and left. She didn't come back for well over an hour. When she returned, she took my vital signs and asked me the same questions everyone else had asked me. We finally learned that my surgery was scheduled for 1:30 p.m., something we probably should have asked someone about earlier.

Finally, another person came and ushered the four of us who were waiting for surgery to a pre-surgery room. This was a large, open room with chairs around the edges, and was located next to the operating rooms. Someone came and put a warmed blanket over my legs. That was nice.

We waited some more and I passed the time by playfully torturing BF with an Oprah magazine. He haaaates Oprah with the passion of a thousand burning suns, and refused to cuddle with me as long as I was holding the magazine in my lap. So, of course, I had to start reading the articles out loud to him.

Then, my surgeon came and talked to me to make sure I understood all the surgery risks and to answer any last-minute questions I had. I asked when I could start post-surgery acupuncture and lymph drainage massage. There wasn't much else to ask, as I had done all my research years ago and knew exactly what I was getting into.

Then, the anesthesiologist and her intern came to talk to me. They asked me the exact same questions everyone else had asked, then wanted to know if I had any questions for them. I asked about the tube they were going to be putting down my throat during the surgery and if there were any possibility of my vocal chords being damaged, as I am a singer. They checked my throat out and said it would be fine. Then, they asked if I had any further questions.

"Just one," I responded with absolute seriousness.

Pause.

"Pre-surgery high-five?" I asked, and held up my hand to them, hoping they wouldn't leave me hanging. They stopped and looked at me strangely for a moment, then burst out laughing and both high-fived me. I'm guessing they don't get that very often.

"Break a jaw!" I called after them as they walked away from me and toward the operating room.

Things to pack for the hospital

This is what I'm packing for the hospital. My surgery's in a city two hours away, so I don't want to forget anything.

• Zip-n-squeeze bags (that arrived in the mail today, just in time!)
• Lip balm (they stretch your lips open during the surgery, so they can get chapped/cracked)
• X-rays, informed consent form, doctor's certificate from physical
• White board and dry erase markers (so I can communicate when my jaw's wired shut)
• Prescription medications
• Homeopathic remedies
• Alcohol-free mouthwash
• Baby toothbrush
• Hand lotion
• Wet wipes
• Magazines and books
• iPod
• Camera (for taking daily progress pictures)
• Journal and pen
• Buddha finger puppet (for good luck)
• Warm buddy puppy (for cuddles!)

I hope that's it. I guess I'll find out when I get there.

Praise be for the anesthetic

I really should NOT have gone to this site right before my surgery. (Click at your own risk: the site contains graphic pictures of the surgery I'm getting.)

I know "knowledge is power" and all, but I'm fine with "ignorance is bliss." I couldn't even read the descriptions that went with the pictures.

Ugh. I feel queasy.

This is my brain on radiation

I drove two hours to The Big City on Tuesday for my pre-surgery appointment. The surgeon's office had told me that it would be some pictures and X-Rays. They hadn't mentioned how involved and uncomfortable it would be.

Paddles pulling my cheeks away from my face to show all of my teeth in pictures, X-ray torture devices that involved wooden pegs being clamped into your ears and your head being stuck into a vice, biting on weird things and struggling to stay still while devices whirl around your head. In case you're looking for examples.

I really shouldn't complain, because I'm sure the discomfort of the pre-op pictures and X-rays has nothing on what I'm going to go through with this surgery and recovery.

Good times. Oh well, at least I got to go to Lush. And have lunch with a good friend of mine. Also on the plus side, I got to see what the inside of my head looks like:

See? It's not empty after all.

They also made me bite down on this plastic thing while an X-Ray machine circled my head. That gave us this nifty shot:

They told me I have a small mouth....
The first time I've ever heard that one!

And, in my final discovery of the day, I learned that Microsoft Word is a great backdrop for viewing and photographing X-Rays. (If you look closely at the one of my skull, you can see the blue MS Taskbar at the bottom.)

Recipe mania

The roller coaster continues. I'm excited, I'm freaked out, I'm happy, I'm sad, I'm brave, I'm terrified. I don't know what I am anymore. I just know I need to make soup. And blog about making soup.

Seriously, this soup making thing is keeping me sane. Or as sane as I'm going to get. I'm a control freak, and this surgery is completely out of my control. It's an uncomfortable and scary and thoroughly unpleasant feeling for someone like me. So, although I cannot control that particular situation, I'm controlling everything I can around it. Researching, making appointments, and obsessing about soup.

I put out a call to a group of my friends for some recipes, and they responded with some great ones. I made all of the following soups (with help from my boyfriend on a couple - what a doll) in the two weeks before my surgery. I have used up all my Tupperware containers, and my freezer is full. But this soup making thing is addictive...I want to make more!!

The funny thing is, before this, my idea of cooking was opening up a bag of pasta and a jar of sauce. Now, I'm the Soup Mistress. Don't mess with me - I carry a ladle.

So, here's some recipes for your obsessive compulsive enjoyment! (I am a vegetarian, so I made the soups with veggie broth. Please feel free to make carnivorous substitutions :)


Black Bean Soup from Pierre

2 cups veggie broth
1 cup salsa
2 cans black beans, rinsed (or any other kind of beans)
1/2 red pepper (roasted, if desired)
dash of cumin

Pour ingredients in blender and make it smooth. Heat it up and enjoy. Garnish with sour cream if desired.


Fresh Pea Soup with Mint from Holly

4 cups frozen or fresh peas
1 medium onion, chopped
2 1/4 cups veggie stock
1/2 cup cream, coconut milk or milk substitute
pinch of sugar
1/4 cup finely chopped fresh mint or dill
1 tsp salt to taste
Black pepper to taste

In saucepan, bring peas, onion, stock to a boil. Add salt and pepper. Simmer for 6-8 minutes. Puree in blender. Stir in cream/milk and sugar. Season with additional salt and pepper if needed. Thin with more stock or cream if mixture is too thick. Serve with a garnish of mint and cream/milk.


Ginger Carrot Soup from Dianne

4 pounds carrots, chopped
1 potato, cubed
4 cups veggie stock
1 large onion, chopped
Lots of fresh ginger, chopped
1/3 cup almonds or cashews
olive oil
dry sherry
sour cream

Put carrots, potato and veggie stock in large pot. Cook until done. In a skillet, sauté onion, ginger and almonds in olive oil. When carrots are done, add onion/ginger mix. Puree mixture. Garnish with a couple of tablespoons of dry sherry and sour cream if desired.


Roasted Eggplant and Lentil Soup from Erika, who got it from Epicurious

1 eggplant, quartered lengthwise
2 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and freshly ground pepper
1 cup French green lentils
14 large sage leaves
2 cups veggie broth
1 cup 1% milk
1 Tbsp fresh lemon juice

Preheat the oven to 400. Place eggplant quarters on a rimmed baking sheet, skin side down. Drizzle with one Tbsp olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Bake until eggplant is tender (30 mins).

In a medium saucepan, cover the lentils with 2 inches of water. Add 1/2 teaspoon of salt and 2 sage leaves and bring to a boil. Simmer over low heat until lentils are tender (20 mins). Drain lentils in colander and discard sage leaves.

Scrape eggplant flesh into a blender, discard skin. Add 1 cup of stock and puree until smooth; transfer to a clean saucepan. Add lentils and remaining cup of stock to blender and puree until smooth. Add lentil puree to eggplant puree in the saucepan.

Stir in milk and lemon juice and bring soup to a simmer. Season with salt and pepper; keep the soup hot over low heat, stirring occasionally.

In a small skillet, heat the remaining Tbsp of olive oil. Add remaining 12 sage leaves and cook over moderate heat until crisp, about 30 seconds per side. Ladle soup into bowls. Garnish with fried sage leaves.


Red Lentil Soup from Epicurious

1 large onion, chopped
1 Tbsp olive oil
4 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 tsp ground cumin
1 bay leaf
1 sprig fresh thyme
1 cup red lentils, rinsed
3 1/2 cups veggie broth
3 cups water
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
2 Tbsp chopped parsley

Cook onion in oil with 1/2 teaspoon salt in a medium heavy saucepan over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until softened (8 minutes).

Add garlic, cumin, bay leaf, and thyme and cook, stirring, 1 minute more. Add lentils, broth, water, salt and pepper, and simmer, partially covered, stirring occasionally, until lentils are soft and falling apart (30-45 minutes).

Discard bay leaf and thyme sprig. Puree 2 cups of mixture and return to pan. Stir in parsley and season with salt.


Spinach and Mint Soup from Epicurious

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil, divided
1 1/2 cups chopped onion
1 russet potato, peeled, thinly sliced
2 large garlic cloves, peeled
4 1/2 cups veggie broth
3 green onions, chopped
2 (10 oz) pkgs frozen chopped spinach, thawed and drained well
1 cup chopped fresh mint, divided
1/3 cup chopped fresh cilantro
salt and pepper
2 tsps Hungarian sweet paprika

Heat 1/4 cup oil in large saucepan over medium heat. Add onion; sauté until tender (8 mins). Add potato and garlic; sauté 5 mins. Add broth and green onions; bring to a boil. Cover and simmer until potato is tender, about 15 mins. Add spinach, 3/4 cup mint and cilantro. Simmer for 1 minute.

Puree soup in blander in batches; return to same pot. Thin with more broth by 1/4 cupfuls, if desired. Season with salt and pepper.

Heat remaining 1/4 cup oil in small skillet over low heat. Mix in paprika; cook 1 minute. Ladle soup into bowls. Drizzle with paprika oil; garnish with 1/4 cup mint.

Enjoy!!