Pre-op Day

We had to fly for 3 1/2 hours on a fully-booked flight from Nashville, TN to San Diego. Samuel was waiting for us in a shabby little white minivan. Perfect English, but no tour like some others discussed, he drove us straight through the border and into Tijuana. Awkward conversation, trying to think of things to say. He told us to take the orange and white cabs to go anywhere, but the bellboy said to always take hotel transportation. Not sure who was right.

Lots of poverty everywhere. Shabby houses on the hill, run down businesses. I am traveling with my cousin, who is also female, and we are both rather young. We are both experienced travelers, but this was no resort vacation.

The Marriott

Remodeled bath is nice, rooms are shabby and dated and small. Sort of clean -- sheets and towels were clean, but smudges and wear were evident throughout the hotel. Restaurant was OK. Didn't know if we needed to pay at desk or wait for bill -- and menu is in pesos which will scare you to death until you figure that out, even the ENGLISH section has PESO prices. Everyone very friendly. Some seemed genuine, others seemed slightly false and made me wary. A fellow visitor joined me and my companion at the hot tub and struck up a conversation, but I felt he was "gathering information" and sharing very little. It made me nervous.

Tried walking to Walmart but beggars were between us and the stores and made us uncomfortable, so we turned around and went back to the hotel. The sidewalk is RIGHT next to the highway and cars and buses full of Mexican folks FLY past. I thought it was dangerous and was suprised so many people say they go to the Walmart like "no big deal." We would have had to cross a very busy road to get there, too. A pickup truck of locals drove past and hollered something at us ... the whole experience was uncomfortable and a little scary.

TV is mostly in Spanish. Sometimes you get lucky and find an English show with Spanish subtitles. Advice -- fly in later in the day. We were very bored that first day. There is a minibar full of candy bars and such that we drank two of the cold waters, and replaced with a couple from the hotel that came with the package. We tipped everyone, and some things, I felt they purposely made you call for from the staff in order to get more tips. Like, why not just leave four complimentary waters in the room if they came with the package, you know? But they leave one and you have to call for the rest and tip the person who brings them. For dinner, we went to the hotel restaurant and I had the broth. It was OK, but I was starving by this time and wanted more. Ate two bowls. I also had hot tea, then wondered if the staff made it with boiled bottled water or not. Eep. My cousin also had diet coke and got a kick out of the Spanish can, but her cup had ice in it and we were told later not to use the ice. Oops. The buffet was ok. Had some unidentifiable meat dishes, but the staff did grill a piece of plain chicken for her when they noticed she couldn't find anything she wanted. They offered, which was nice.

Internet at the hotel was horrible and this is a major problem because that is the main way to keep in touch with loved ones back home. Turn off data service when you leave the country, or face the large data charges. Phone calls and texts also cost an arm and a leg, so we turned our data plans off and went into airplane mode right before crossing the border. The internet was sporadic and kept redirecting us to the Marriott website. I drove us both nuts. Slow, and sporadic. This was one of the worst parts of the hotel experience.

Nice workout room and pool.

Weird control that you have to put your key card into in order to have lights in the bathroom. An energy saving thing, but we couldn't understand the guy who tried to show us what it was for and thought there was no electricity in room for awhile.

Irene is a lovely girl. I pictured both her and Samuel much older than they were in real life. She was kind and thorough and very professional. She was probably the only thing that kept me from bailing on the surgery and running back home. She did have me sign a bunch of papers -- no idea what they said.

Diarrhea from the pre-op liquid diet is common, fyi. Not fun, but apparently common.

Showered and washed my tummy really well, including my belly button. Ready for tomorrow as I will ever be. Still not sure I won't chicken out if I see something at the hospital that looks or feels weird. Feeling like this was a mistake and can't believe I took my life into my hands like this.

The Hospital

My surgery was at Florence Oasis. The lobby and grounds seemed nice and modern, but the minute we turned the corner to the actual rooms, things went downhill. Older and more rundown than the worst hospital in my American city. We arrived in room 11 and found two socks on the floor by the bed that were left there and not found by the staff before we came in. The bathroom was rough, and the soap had a leak that left a large yellow puddle on the floor. The nurses were YOUNG. They looked not old enough to drive, let alone put in my IV. The staff had continuous trouble with my IV, which has never happened to me before, but I was probably dehydrated. The first one hurt going in and the girl fished around a bit before finding it. It collapsed by the next morning and my hand swelled like a balloon. She tried twice to get it in before giving up and calling in a more mature woman, who got it in the first time. Still, my fingers and wrists on both hands remained swollen. The English wasn't great for any of the nurses. Fatima or Saleima, not sure which was which, took care of me most of the time. The one that tried the IV and couldn't get it felt awful, I could tell. She held my hand and patted it while the older lady worked on me.

The room where they drew my blood was ROUGH. Tiles missing in the ceiling, stuff leaned against the wall and stacked up everywhere. It was a little scary. I started to get nervous, or even moreso.

My surgery was supposed to be at noon, and was instead at about 2:30. That gave me plenty of time to get cold feet and worry and wonder what was wrong. Not good. I was very sore and there was plenty of pain when I woke up, too. About like gall bladder surgery. And after having nothing to drink by mouth for days, I was dying of thirst. I had to wait until the day after surgery for the first leak test before I could drink anything.

Tip: When you take the leak test with the x-ray, don't swallow the liquid until Hector tells you to, or you get reprimanded and have to do it again. Like me.

The rooms always start out cold when you lay down and by the time you wake up, you are in a pool of sweat. Not sure why. And the air condition leaked in the hallway and there was a trash can placed to catch the water pouring out of it. The ceiling tile was removed, and there were wires and pipes all together in there. It was replaced the next day.

The water pressure in the shower is super powerful.

The wi-fi in the hospital was good, by the way. So was the massage, though the therapist spoke zero English.

Time drags in the hospital. Creeps along.

The cafeteria -- you have to get a pink ticket to eat there. You get them on the second floor. It's only open certain hours though, so don't miss it. If you do, the receptionist will give you a packet of menus and assist with ordering food to be delivered.

That IS indeed a bullfighting ring across the street. Would have been cool to see it, but we will be gone before the next one is scheduled.

Removing the drain made me cry out loud. It was weird, like giving birth to an alien.

The Marriott, Xs 2

The second time at the Marriott, we had to wait more than 2 hours for our room. I should have learned a lesson after reading someone else's story, but Irene assured me the hotel would have a room when I came back. She was wrong. I heard others waited even longer.

That said, our room was 308 this time and it was larger, cleaner and felt nicer. That could just be because we were coming from the hospital room to this one, making it seem like a palace, lol, but me and my cousin both thought it was better than 313.

The restaurant staff were nicer this time, too. Sofia and Carlos were awesome.

Irene stopped by again, nice as usual. She said Samuel would try to fit a trip to WalMart in to get tequila and a pack of underwear (pack extras). Sounds like the weirdest shopping trip ... trip being the key word here!

The doctor will be here tomorrow to take out staples. Yeeowwch. I had it done after c-section and hated it, so not looking forward to it. It is the last thing to come off though, and I am free of surgery acoutrements.

Dr. Velasco came and took out my staples. Only the last one hurt, right over the place they pulled out my extra stomach. So that was a pleasant surprise. I look a wreck -- like Frankentummy. Bruised, red, swollen, sliced and diced. She was nice, as always. She explained my x-rays and I'm glad she did because I had it all wrong. I thought my esophagus was my stomach, for heaven's sakes! She and Irene hugged me right before they left and gave me some parting wisdom about diet and not putting the weight back on. She and Irene hugged me and I felt very good about both of them.

All went pretty well this day except a touch of gas in the morning, and, late in the evening, I got one of the red NSAID pills from the hospital stuck in my throat and no amount of swallowing will get it loose. I heated hot water in the coffee maker and drank it, floaty coffee grounds and all. I drank until I was worried my sleeve was full and had to stop. No luck. It's still stuck there.

Our driver, Samuel, called an hour and 15 minutes late at 10:15 to tell me that his dad would pick us up in the morning. I asked for a 10 am pick-up time. He said we will have the medical pass, which may help us get through the border faster. My husband will be at the San Diego airport at 3:30 and I cannot wait to see him.

Off to try to dislodge a bothersome pill. Daggum it.

Still not dislodged. It's been two hours.

Also, forgot to mention that the stuff they spray on the tummy makes your clothes stick. Just FYI. Feet still very swollen, hands are a little better. I lost two or three lbs of the water weight today. At about 229. I was 214 before surgery and 228 was my highest weight, right before pre-op.

Still stuck in there. Do I just go to bed and not worry about it? Can't NSAIDs eat a whole in my esophagus?!

Saturday, Day we Return to US

The pill still feels stuck.

Ride arrived on time at 10 a.m. Got over the border no problem in less than an hour, including a stop for tequila. By the way, don't let them give you change in pesos. You will be cheated. Samuel Sr. took us back and because we ran way early, he took us to the hotel to check our baggage at the desk before heading to the airport to get my husband. Still, we arrived at the airport 3 hours early. That was a lot of time to kill. My cousin had a bite to eat, we walked. I tried drinking gatorade on the way to San Diego and found that it hurt my throat, which didn't happen before. I thought it was because of the pill. Stole my cousin's water and it was ok, but still hurt going down. Bought both a hot tea and a juice, which hurt so much I threw them both away. Started feeling dehydrated, nauseous and uncomfortable. I finally gave up waiting for my husband and my cousin and I caught a shuttle back to the hotel to check in. Husband met me there later. We plan to stay through the long weekend to give me some more time to recover. My cousin leaves in the morning and my husband and I leave Tuesday.

I was fighting back tears by evening. I called Dr. Valsco and texted Dr. Garcia. Dr. Velasco called me back and said I could try some yogurt, and that I needed to stay hydrated. I wasn't. I could drink much of anything. My throat felt like it was swelling shut and everything made me nauseous. Also, I was still swelled up like a little sausuage. I couldn't take my pain medicine or antibiotics, and I started feeling everything that was dulled before. Talk about a miserable girl. That was not a good night. I also forgot to mention that our hotel room in San Diego nearly caught fire, the alarm went off and we had to change to a new room. Nothing went very right this day.

Monday

Yesterday was a bad day. I woke up in the same shape, maybe worse. When I went to brush my teeth, it became very clear what was wrong. I had thrush. It was the antibiotics. My tongue, roof of my mouth and throat were coated white and so sore. My tonsils so swollen I couldn't drink anything but a sip or two of water, which made me feel like throwing up. I had refluxed and coughed all night, on top of everything else. I had drank less than one bottle of water since leaving Tijuana. Dr. Garcia texted me back and recommended I go to the ER, but that is so expensive I tried the Urgent Care first. Should have known what would happen -- they took my copay and transferred me straight to the closest ER.

Then things got a little scary. The hospital said they see lots of Tijuana patients following surgery because of the inability to provide follow-up. They said the surgeons were good, but it wasn't a good idea not to have follow-up with the surgeon, not just a PCP. They put me in a bed, checked my bloodwork, checked for blood clots, did a urine test, and hooked me up to fluids, pain meds and anti-nausea medicine. They were concerned I had a stricture -- a narrowing of the opening in the stomach -- and might need re-operation. That sounded horrific at this point. Dr. Velasco was texting my husband often, and she didn't like the sounds of re-operation one bit. She was right.

My labs all came back fine. I was a little anemic and my glucose levels were low, so they gave me some glucose in the IV, too. No clots, my bladder was emptying completely so that wasn't the cause of my swelling. They ruled out everything and finally settled on the explanation that the hospital in Tijuana gave me so many fluids, followed by dehydration, so my body was holding on to the fluids. Also, they blessedly treated the thrush that started all these problems, and my tongue immediately started to shed it's white coating. I was still very sore, but at least I was rehydrated and on pain meds. We were at the hospital for about 8 hours. Long, hard, painful day.

Today I woke up feeling a bit more alive. Throat is still hurting, but I took another of the thrush medicines and the anti-nausea. Today, for the first time, I tried the milk in a cereal bowl for breakfast and had wonton soup (minus the wonton) for dinner. I had a spoonful of frozen yogurt that I let melt in my mouth. It was glorious; I can't tell you how much I miss food. Being here in San Diego, the smells of Little Italy waft through the streets and make me nostalgic for a good meal.

All in all, I appreciate the skill and caring of my doctors in Tijuana. But I would not do this again, and wish I had just waited for my American insurance to approve me closer to home, where I wouldn't have the added stress of being away from home while having a major surgery done. I am a homeebody at heart, and the hospital facilities were not up to par with what I am accustomed to for healthcare. This is not a vacation with a bit of surgery -- it is painful and recovery was tough even before I got sick. Also, it was so, unbearably boring. Time creeped along slower than ever in my life. When you are in pain, each minute felt like an eternity in Tijuana. We were not comfortable leaving the hotel, there were only maybe 2 English stations, the internet wasn't reliable and we felt so cut off and vulnerable. I am glad I never have to relive those days in Tijuana, post-op. I'm still not sure why I didn't follow my instincts and bail. I guess I thought I was over-reacting -- I had read so many positive things about surgery in Mexico. Those stories don't match my own. Why wasn't my surgery a fairy tale? I don't know. I don't consider myself a picky or fearful person. I travel alone and am fine. I am not a complainer.

Incidentally, I tipped folks really well in Tijuana. I feel like they needed it, and they all did such a good job. Carlos and Sophia, our waiters, our drivers, the cleaning ladies at the Mariott. They were all quite wonderful. I had a thought that my surgery and business may have helped in some small way with the situation in Tijuana. I looked out the window and thought how much potential, both in the people and in the land, were being missed. The city could so easily be revitalized and redeveloped. It has much to offer -- fresh, organic food movement; lovely, temperate climate; proximity to ocean and mountains; abundance of art and culture and history. Keep the playful side of Tijuana, but rein it in, and put it all in one place and inland. Make a place for families to vacation near the beach. Plant vineyards in the hills. Clean up slums. Attract more people to the safer, cleaner city and give the people something to do, something to be proud of, and close the gap between poor and rich that divides the city (maybe the whole country). The people were all so good and kind. I can picture a much different Tijuana.

I fly home tomorrow, one week post-op, and hope things improve from here on out. I am still carrying 12 lbs of water weight, maybe more since I have almost surely lost weight since operation day when I was weighed. My feet, ankles and legs are still awfully swollen. It's hard to wear shoes. I will feel better when I am home in my own bed with my children and I have a feeling my recovery will really begin then.

See you on the loser's bench -- soon, I hope.