Egg Donor's Eggciting Donation Adventures

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Friday, August 17, 2012

About My Retrieval Yesterday

   

Yesterday I went in for retrieval. I was so nervous going in, but that's not abnormal for me. I am always  anxious before egg retrieval. For my previous egg donations, the physician's offices always gave me a Valium a couple minutes before to help me relax. I checked in two hours early for the surgery (it's required to check in that early), changed into the gown and put on these awesome, granny socks the hospital gave me. After changing into the hospital's fashion statement gowns and socks, they put me in a small room with one chair and a TV. I was too nervous to watch TV-- instead, I opted to text my husband, who was my designated companion for the trip. He had dropped me off that morning and went back to the hotel, anticipating my phone call saying that the surgery was finished. When I attempted texting my husband, I found out that there was terrible reception in same-day surgery area. Lame! My nerves kept increasing, so I finally gave in to my nerves and called the nurse into my room. I asked her if there was anything they could give me to calm my nerves. Instead, she gave me a lecture how I shouldn't be scared and how I chose to do this. She also told me that my husband should have come in with me and how it was my fault I was scared. I am normally not an emotional person, but I wanted to break down crying at that very moment. I bit my lip and held in my tears though. Other than the nurse's brutal honesty, I knew the elevation of hormones in my body were also playing a role in my emotions. Regardless of my nervousness, the nurse did not give me anything to calm my nerves. Another nurse came in and saw how scared I looked. My lips were quivering, and she mistook my body language for being cold. She brought back a dozen heated blankets and covered me. This nurse's kindness helped redeem what I was feeling towards the other nurse.

Right before surgery, both physicians that were performing the retrieval came in to talk to me. They assured me not feel nervous and that they would do their very best. Their friendliness made me ease up and release some of the tension I had been feeling. The anesthesiologist came in to prep me for anesthesia. During my first donation, they did not give me anesthesia... they only gave me a drug called Versed, but my nurses were so loving and caring, that I felt at ease. During my second retrieval, I had such a kind anesthesiologist. She assured me that she would take care of me like her own daughter and that made a couple jokes to put me at ease. The anesthesiologist I had yesterday, however, walked in the room and barely spoke a word to me. The only reason I knew she was my anesthesiologist, is because I asked after she injected me. I didn't like the rushed feeling she was putting off, so I tried to lighten the mood and say something like, "I hope whatever you're giving me helps ease my nerves." She looked at me like I was crazy and said, "Whatever." I felt like the meanest girl in high school just walked all over my feelings and stomped on them. It turns out, she was just injecting me with Zofran (a med that helps nauseousness). I wasn't  nauseous and never experienced nauseousness with anesthesia... I guess she would have known that if she would have taken the time to ask me. 

Before I knew it, it was time for surgery. I laid down in the infamous compromising position, feet in the stirrups and all, and took a deep breath. I started feeling drowsy (of course, my anesthesiologist didn't tell me she was injecting something). I always feel better knowing what and when my anesthesiologist is doing, so that I don't panic. The last thing I remember is staring at the wall, praying that everything would go well. I woke up feeling groggy and in so much pain. The nurses told me to get dressed, but I asked if I could just lay here for a little while longer. They said that was fine, and that they would call my husband to tell him I was ready to go. 

After I was dressed, one of the physicians came in and told me they had retrieved twelve excellent eggs. He also commented at how nice it was that I donating when I was so scared of surgery. He mentioned that it was such a great gift I was giving when I was so nervous. Despite my anxiousness, his words gave me a comforting feeling that everything was going to be okay. He prescribed me 12 percocet and I was grateful, because my previous donation doctor refused to give me pain medications. Instead, my second donation doctor told me to drink some red wine to relieve the pain. I tried telling her I was Mormon (LDS) and did not drink alcohol. She didn't care, I guess. 

The percocet, however, did not relieve much of the pain until today. The pain that a donor might feel is similar to severe menstrual cramps. I am starting to feel better and thinking of enjoying my last full day here by going out on an activity. 

2 comments:

Ariel Green said...

I can't believe they were so rude to you! I've donated four times, and each time I was treated so kindly. My nurses/doctors never told me to drink alcohol to help the recovery and always gave me at least 20 minutes to rest after the procedure. YOu're extremely brave for donating again after all that. I would have given up!

Alice Jovovich said...

What horrible people. I would never donate with them again after being treated badly.....