So here's the other part to my surgery story.  This is the side that's a little deeper, and depending on your own personal philosophies, a little more "hokie".  My first night in the hospital I was lucky enough to have my own room (which is what I had envisioned anyway, but did realize in a hospital with many patients, you get what you get).  In one of those twists of fate, because my surgeon was, as my pre-op nurse put it, "meticulous", his surgeries ran long.  So, since the surgery before mine ended late, mine didn't start til after it should've been over, and this single room didn't open up til just before I was finally ready for it.  I woke up post-surgery with no memory of the precedure (as I had hoped - yay anesthesia!), babbled on happily to my husband about everything that popped in my head (again - hats off to the anesthesia) and I had very nice nurses that chatted with me about articles in my Us Weekly I had packed with me or the tv shows I was watching in my room once visiting hours were over.

Later, when I was trying to sleep, I kept waking up to the sounds of someone in slippers walking around my room.  I thought it must be the nurse coming in to check my vitals, but everytime I heard that sound, I opened my eyes and saw that I was alone in my room.  During this same time, I kept having visions of my mom & my aunt (another cancer victim) sitting side by side in my room.  They were happy to see each other, but also watching over me.  I feel full sure that one of them was the slipper walker, and I'm pretty sure it was my mom.  Since I am her daughter, I see her as being the one slightly more nervous over my hospitalization.  It did get to the point where I told them I was very happy they were there, but was hoping to sleep and would be appreciative of some quiet.  I don't care if you believe in spirits or not, but I do and their presence that I felt in my room was very comforting.  I very much like the idea that they can come and check in on us, and sometimes even let us know fully that they are there with us.

My second day in the hospital (or in my cabana, as I liked to call it) started out well.  My doctor came to check on me, said all looked well and told me I'd have one more night in the hospital to make sure my pain was managed properly.  Being a mom of two small children, this was exactly what I'd hoped he'd say - especially having my own private room where I was able to get lots of rest.  Then, a few hours later, I was told someone needed isolation and I was getting bumped into a two person room.  What could I do?  But, they told me the floor was pretty quiet so I'd probably still be by myself and they'd move me to the prime location by the window & the bathroom in that room. 

Of course, fate stepped in once again and a few hours later, I had a roommate.  And to make things more interesting, she had cancer.  I couldn't just have the roommate with a broken leg, it had to be cancer.  She was a nice lady and during one of our first chats, she had told me that she didn't want to be in the room alone and was a little disappointed that I'd only be there for one more night.  She'd just come out of surgery after having 1/4 of a lung removed due to lung cancer and still had a bit of hospital time ahead of her.  The day went by fine, but the night is where it got tricky.

Due to my roommate's surgery & condition, hospital staff had to come see her at least every 1.5 hours in the night to help clear fluids out of her system through coughing and whatever else they had to do.  While I understood this was necessary, I was woken up everytime they came in and couldn't get a good night's sleep.  (Yes, I understand the seriousness of her condition and the need to do what they did, but I was still recovering from my own surgery and ws hoping for some good rest before I went home to take care of my family again.)  At some point in the middle of the night, I had a breakdown.  My nurse was very kind, but she didn't quite grasp why I was upset.  I told her that my mother had just passed away (at that point 7 months ago) from her own battle with cancer so being in the room with a cancer patiend was very hard.  She thought I was upset because I had lost my mom, so she rattled on about how my mom is always near and I can tell my kids stories about her to keep her memory alive for them, too.  I tried to explain that my problem was that my roommate was going through procedures that were done to my mom through her many hospital stays the previous year and that was the hard part.  Most of last year was wrapped up in hospital stays and the time inbetween those stays.  While my sister was the one that retained all of the nitty gritty of the hospital procedures, I was still familiar with lung fluid being drained, and MRIs, and chest x-rays, etc., etc, so the sounds coming from the other side of the curtain were just too painful. 

I'd like to really emphasize that the hospital staff in general was very nice.  I fully realize there is no way they could've known what my family & I went through with my mom's battle last year.  Although my nurse wasn't quite grasping why I got upset that night, she did still offer to find me another room to stay in - which is all she could do in that situation and I fully appreciate the offer.  Had my roommate not expressed her fears with being alone, and had I not cared about potentially offending her with my exit, I would've asked for a new room.  Since I knew I just had to get through that last night, I opted to stay where I was.  If I had to be in the hospital any longer, I probably would've asked to go somewhere else.  I know a single room, especially for a surgery like mine that went so well and needed so little care from the staff probably wouldn't be an option, I could at least at that point have a roommate not battling cancer (and I did notice a big change in the staff after my breakdown with my nurse).  I know I gave my roommate a gift and I know that everything happens for a reason, but it was a very rough night for me emotionally.  I know I'm a strong person, but I'm really tired of cancer testing me on just how strong I am.