Thanks. I wasn't nauseous, just freaked out of my ever lovin' gourd and still in pain. I had a nice buzz going on, but it wasn't enjoyable because I still had lots of pain. I realize this isn't the norm. But you know, I barely remember the hours of consciousness after surgery, so they probably were putting morophine in me. Once you get to the point you are looped out of your head it's hard to COMMUNICATE. In my paranoid state, I guess I kept to myself as to not attract attention to myself. Knew I wasn't quite right. Everytime the nurse suggested more morphine, I remember telling them, let me get up and go to the bathroom first (painful in itself, but knew somehow if they gave me another dose I wouldn't make it around the corner.)I'd lay back, enjoy the buzz, but wonder why it wasn't doing much for the pain

Next surgery, I'm going to have a steno pad prepared with please write down your name so I can remember it,if it's a medical visit, write down what you did and told me so I can remember it, post surgery instructions? please bullet the important things I need to remember. Jot down notes for me to remember. I'll have to tell my husband to take the steno pad out for me.

Gawds. This is one of the reasons I never enjoyed alcohol much. I hated the loss of control and memory. Thing is, I remember some of my lucid moments and they were whacky. No sleep, can't concentrate on the TV and watching the clock tick very loudly watching time pass.

I remember the radiation onco telling me they'd do everything possible for me for pain. I was a skeptic. After birthing three babies and having plenty of painful other past experiences including a crushed femur, I just nod my head because I know pain is part of this and I've born enough of it already. I don't expect to be "painfree"... lol. Not into the bitching and whining about it, but just getting on with what needs to be done. It's probably why I didn't tell them how much pain I really was in, because I fully expect staff to tell me "Well, pain is to be expected"

Guess if I was given the choice of morphine or pain and in my right wits, I'd choose to forgo the morphine in the future. This time, I probably was already getting it before I could figure out that my head was fried. Then all I could do was nod my head and plod along like the clown that I was. Thing is, for all appearances, my husband thought I was "normal" (except for the strange paranoid phone call) He keeps asking me do I remember this and do I remember that? or conversations that we had. All a blur. Yeah I probably looked self contained and dealing well, but man, my wits weren't with me. Me needs my wits!

Jen