SURGERY

Surgery is scheduled for 2:00 pm, but I need to be there at noon.  Surprisingly, I’m not in a lot of pain even though I’m past due with Oxycodone.   I had worried about pain because I’m not allowed to eat a morsel of food the day of surgery, and the Oxycodone won’t stay down without food.

I pride myself in getting to the surgery center by myself in a taxi.  JP had a very big project at work this week and he will pick me up at the end of the day. 

The pre-op room reminds me of a nail salon with big fancy spa chairs.  This room is a series of Lazy-Boy chairs in a row all kept “private” by curtains.  I hear that the boy next to me broke his arm snowboarding and the woman across is here for ankle reconstruction.

I don’t recognize Dr. D at first with his minty green scrubs and hair net.  Why does someone who is completely bald need a hair net? 

He places a huge X on my left leg with a purple magic marker.   I support this marking.  It would be absolutely dreadful if after surgery he said “Doh, other left!”

The anesthesiologist stops by to give me the option for general (out like a light) or local.  Wow!  Who would want to be awake while going under the knife?  Not me!  General anesthesia please !

The operation room is full of lights and machines that go “bing!”  They hook me up to the IV and I’m chatting away about …  well I’m sure they get their kicks when the patient suddenly goes unconscious midsentence.

I wake up in a different Lazy-boy chair and the nurse is excitedly talking about her weekend plans.  She’s so chatty that I think that she is my friend.  She brings me some applesauce, but I take one bite and feel a dry heave.  It’s nearly 5:00 on a Friday, I’m dizzy, nauseous and tired and she wants me out of there! 

The pamphlet had said that I wouldn’t “feel ready to go home for about 24 hours after surgery” and I took that with a quaint grain of salt.  I had no idea that I’d have these waves of dizziness and the urge to toss my cookies – cookies that I know are not there since I haven’t eaten in 24 hours.

Apparently urgent care now means urgently getting rid of me.  JP is instructed to bring the car around to the secret parking spot.  They wheel me out the door and into the back of the car.  All that is left is a bumpy ride home and three flights of stairs to climb up using my now perfected backwards crab walk.



I manage to make it up the first two flights of stairs – one step at a time. JP opens the door and I’m ready to just go to sleep in the foyer when he pulls out a giant helium "Get Well Soon!" bear balloon.  I can’t stop laughing and am completely baffled as to how he pulled a bear out of thin air.  The bear chases me up the stairs.  I honestly don’t think I would have made it up that last flight of staris without the bear.  I asked him how he got the bear, but the bear is not from him.  Someone had left the bear tied to the door knob, but because I go up the stairs backwards I did not see the bear. 

Now, who on earth would leave a bear on the front door?  Erin!  Her good energy sends me into a deep, happy and restful sleep.