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Photo Galina

My thyroid Six months later

Six months ago today I had a partial thyroidectomy. Translation: half of my thyroid and my metabolism was half done. I had a big lump on one side of my thyroid that had begun to produce extra thyroid hormone and made me hyper. The surgery was a success. The nodule removed completely benign. Turns out, had two nodules - a secret twin! For those confused by the reference, do yourself a favor and see target = "_blank"> this one-minute clip.

I just read through some of my best moments I wrote immediately after surgery. As predicted, made me laugh. (My sister always told me I should be a comedist.) I'll post what I sent to my friends after surgery. I will stop aside some of the gory details. But here are some examples:

href = "http://www.med.nyu.edu/clinicians/rosesd01.html" target = "_blank"> Dr. Daniel Rosas is a genius thyroid surgery and I am eternally grateful for all the thousands of patients before me that served as practice.
That said, I accepted the deal with patients a little cocky *** when I discovered that my scar will be half the expected size (2 "instead of 4") - thanks again Dr. Roses. For a more detailed description of a minor incident which justified the "arrogant", see forward.
An anesthesiologist is worth its weight in gold if you successfully wake up after surgery and not during it.
morphine injections in the stomach led me to the right place around the world spoke to me and it hurt like hell. Making also made me feel like the doctor in Saving Private Ryan.
I discovered this secret anti-nausea "patch" I got to put behind my ear. Not sure why it is so secret, but every person who I asked about this after the surgery performed as never seen anything like this before. Why so much mystery about an anti-nausea patch? Immediately I thought it was something to the mass market. Think about it - too many Cosmos last night, do not worry - just paste the patch behind the ear and is ready to go!
Pajamas seemed to work better than the hospital gown for me. Apparently, I was so hot after surgery after surgery, who followed me kicking my blanket and well, the dress does not leave much for curiosity.
Number of drugs pumped into my veins to "put me under" 6.
Number additional drugs would be needed to me put under for life: 1.
Number of nurses who "care" for me while I was in my own room: 3. Of these, the oldest having been there for 5 months.
Nurse idiot # 1 failed a blood test. I almost showed him how to do it and then stopped her before she collapsed my vein. She followed with two S-words: shit, and feel. Then he forgot about the gauze. So I had to give him a napkin to clean my blood is spilled.
Oh yes, and then let your nurse idiot "bible" (Translation: medical history of each patient in a notebook by hand) in my room. Luckily for me, my sister happened to enjoy reading about Mrs. Horowitz mastectomy. So much for a href = "http://personalinsure.about.com/od/health/a/aa041806a.htm" target = "_blank"> HIPAA regulations.
Analgesics prescribed by the surgeon: Over the counter Tylenol Extra Strength.
My private room in the hospital was bigger than my living room Manhattan, with a wall of windows overlooking the East River, the United Nations and the Chrysler Building. Thanks Andrew.
Even amid the pain a little afraid, sister gets me rolling with laughter during an impromptu photo shoot hospital watching "the drain." Thanks Reena.
Child labor is still worse.

*** PS: I saved the "why I found Dr. Genius thyroid surgeon and have a cocky side so that" story to the end, as some of you might be bored by now. If you're not - you can read.

Well, let's imagine what her throat "hurt" would be less than 24 hours after a major incision cutting through all kinds of things with blood in the neck? Oh yeah, and for about 24 hours, there was also leaking out of the corner of the incision in the neck. The flight, security duly pinned my $ 3.50 Old Navy long-sleeved shirt, grouped in a container plastic was for some reason or another form of an army grenade. I wanted to rip it and throw it across the room, my blood splattering on the floor. (Sorry by Quentin Tarantino - as a digression.)

Anyway, so in the morning, Mr. Resident Clueless removed the drain. Drain removal could be understood better if they are taking advantage of a photo of a fisherman from the fishing rod out of the water when they get a mouthful.

This drain is removed and my incision recorded "." This tape is probably government designed a specialty tape is stronger than any other band known to man. I think they should market this as a solution of hair removal safely. As better than the Epilady hair removal system. This was serious viscosity. A few hours later, when I was just adapted to life without the blood grenade, the thyroid surgeon Dr. Genius comes in.

"My neighbors made me look bad," he says, comes, fingers in my neck. I have not enough of a chance to tell Mr. Resident gossip Clueless when Dr. cocky continues (and ladies, you can really appreciate this), in a wax-like movement, tear the layers of tape that were so carefully holding my throat together. I have the throat and out the hole where the pipe.

He was sure he did after the hangover, I would see a steady supply of blood Shoot Out of my neck, but alas! Dr. cocky looked around and grabbed whatever the napkin harder he could find was. He used to aggressively clean whatever mess he just created and then cut his own tape. This tape was half the size of the other.

He stepped back, satisfied with their work. "No," he said, a smile crossed his face. "That is much smaller. "He does not want anyone to think that the scar was so big.

"Perfect" he pronounced, pleased with his work and went to open his gang worship outside of my room.

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