These memories are kind of hazy (thank you anesthesia), but I do vaguely remember waking up in the Recovery Room/Post-Anesthesia Care Unit (PACU). I remember waking up so confused and cold (surprise surprise). A nurse came over to me and covered me with blankets, and then wrapped towels around my head. She then looked at my right eye and started asking me questions like "is your eye hurting?", "is your eye itching at all?", and then proceeded to tell me "hold on I'm going to get the doctor." Mean while I'm just laying there confused out of my mind because I don't feel a thing. They were worried I was having an allergic reaction or somehow during surgery my cornea was scratched. Turns out I'm allergic to some kind of tape they use during surgeries to tape the eyes shut (happened again during my port surgery).
Next thing I remember was being transported to my room that I would be staying in for the next three days. When I got there I looked around and noticed my family was no where to be found, and I didn't have my cell phone (initiate panic mode). So I grab the hospital phone and start trying to dial my sisters phone number. I swear I was dialing her number, but some random person kept answering the phone and I would hang up embarrassed. Eventually I started to get frustrated and I'm sure the person I kept calling was too, so I got the nurse and she explained to me you have to press 9 before dialing. Whoops! I finally get ahold of my sister and I say "hey! where are you?!" and she responds "hello? who is this?!", I respond "what do you mean? it's me, Michelle, your sister", next thing she says "you aren't supposed to be awake yet! Guys, it's Michelle! She's awake! We have to go now!" Apparently after my ~5 hour surgery (8:05am - 12:30 pm), my doctor told my family that I wouldn't be awake for maybe another 2 hours and that they could go grab something to eat. Well I woke up sooner than they thought lol. I then called Sid and told him I was okay, but didn't know any information on what happened during my surgery. Sid's mom and dad then called my room, and were surprised I was awake and talking (somewhat making sense). They started driving back to Tallahassee because they were told I wouldn't remember anything that first day waking up from surgery and would wake up maybe for two minutes every hour.
My Grandma, Grandpa, Mom, Dad, Sister, and Brother finally get to my room and I give them all hugs. They then break the news to me that they had to stage me during surgery... it ended up being cancerous. I can't even begin to imagine what it was like for my family when the nurse came out and told them it would take a bit longer that I was in the process of staging.
During my surgery they had a pathologist there, so when they removed the 3 lb mass they took a sample from the "worst looking part" and had the pathologist observe it under a microscope. From that sample, my doctor diagnosed me as having an immature teratoma (a form of ovarian cancer), and believed it to be Stage 1 Grade 1. However, they would need to send it off to be further evaluated in more detail to determine my exact diagnosis/prognosis. But my family told me my doctor seemed very positive that it hadn't spread (Stage 1) and was not aggressive (Grade 1). I remember later that night around 9 pm my doctor came to check in on me (yes I wrote that out right 9 pm and he was still there). He asked me how I was feeling and if I had any questions. I asked him to explain again to me my diagnosis and what if it was more aggressive what would that entail, and he told me lets take baby steps. To wait till the final pathologist report comes out and if it was more aggressive than they had thought, then we would cross that bridge at that time. He asked me if I wanted to see a picture of my mass that basically once was my right ovary, and I know this might not be everyones cup of tea, but I thought it was super cool so I said of course! I then told him I had a realllllyyyy stupid question, and of course he gave me the typical answer "no question is stupid", and I said/warned him again "no it is really stupid, but I have to ask it anyway... do I have an outtie now??? I used to have an innie, but now its poking out... I liked my innie." He proceeded to laugh and was like "really? Of all questions you ask me that?" (I mean I did warn him). He then said "Let me have a look." He then told me he wasn't sure, that it would probably take a year for my stomach to fully heal and look how it will truly look.
Get this the only pain reliever I was given was IV Tylenol. If you know me I'm not a big proponent on pain relievers, especially opioids. However, after having a major surgery where my right ovary/mass and right fallopian tube were surgically removed, all my organs removed and washed, and an incision that goes from my pubic bone to about an inch above my belly button... I thought I would be put on something stronger. I remember asking my nurse like hey can't I just go across the street to publix and get this lol. I never really realized how much you use your abdominal muscles, but I quickly found out. I had IV fluids running, so I felt like I had to get up every 30 minutes to use the restroom. Oooof it was a mission getting up from the bed. I had to slowly lift myself up using the hospital beds controls, then have the nurse grab my shoulder and roll me to my right side, then she would grab both my shoulders and lift me up into a sitting position... goodness I felt utterly useless. Around 2 am after having to get up what seemed a million times to use the restroom I ended up just breaking down... the nurse looked at me and said "oh sweetie I haven't heard you complain once, don't worry we'll get you something a little stronger." Hello dilaudid, finally I could fall asleep for more than a couple hours.
The second day, physical therapy came to my room and told me they wanted to see me get up and walk around. Well goodness I had been getting up to use the restroom, surely I could make a lap around the wing I was in. Right when I got to the door I swung my head around to say something to the physical therapist and needless to say that was a bad idea. I lost my balance, but thankfully I just staggered a little bit and was able to catch my bearings. The physical therapist just laughed and said "lets not get too crazy." I was able to walk around the wing 3 times, but let me tell ya it wore me out! I also had a couple friends who were currently attending USF come visit me which was really nice.
The third day finally rolls around and it's time for me to be discharged. I was a little worried about being in a car for 4 hours and also worried about the bumpy roads, but my sister and grandma had it all covered. I sat in the front passenger seat and placed a pillow between me and the seatbelt. Every hour we had to pull over, so I could get up and walk around (doctor advised we do that so clots wouldn't form).
Fast forward two weeks, Friday on September 20th around 2 pm, I got a call from my doctor with the final pathologist report (lymphnodes, other organs, washings, etc.)... Stage 1A Grade 2 ovarian cancer. I still had a good prognosis (96-98% cure rate), however now I need to do 3 aggressive cycles of chemotherapy starting October 14th.