Silas: Part 2, Like a Crack Addict in Detox

(continued from Part 1)

After that, things happened pretty quickly.  The IV was put in (the nurse asked Jonathan, “She was so happy a minute ago – why is she white as a sheet now?”) and penicillin administered (why?  because all of the sudden my water had broken more than 24 hours ago).

I kept asking for the anesthesiologist so I could explain my adverse reaction last time and see if we could avoid all the post-surgery puking.  I also asked for a sedative.  Right after the spinal.  Immediately after the spinal.

“But then you might have some amnesia and not remember everything,” he protested.

Perfect.

The nurse asks me about what to do with the baby right after birth.  Huh?  Well, I guess let’s make sure he’s breathing, clean him up, and that sort of thing.  And what about that Apgar test?

“No,” she said.  “How much time do you want to spend with him on your chest or beside you.”

Oh.  Um, well, how about none at all.  Because when the doctor is trying to replace half my innards, the last thing I want is a squirmy baby on me.  We have the next 18 years to bond; I can do without the first few minutes.

And off we walk to the operating room, which I vaguely remembered from last time.  I was very nervous and shaking like a crack addict in detox.  Inserting the spinal takes way too much time.  I can’t stop shaking.  The anesthesiologist is getting frustrated with me and my shaking spine.  Which is scaring me even more because what if he misses and paralyzes me for life?!

Finally Odd Duck Nurse drapes my body over hers, holds both my hands, looks into my eyes, and starts saying things that I can’t remember now, but calmed me long enough to get the needle in.  See how great she was?

Okay, that’s enough about that.  I am making myself ill.

(to be continued)