It was a week ago last Wednesday that I had surgery. The actual surgery went fine and I didn’t feel a thing. I arrived at the hospital at 9:30 a.m. as directed. I imagined having ample time to read before the actual surgery, but since I was accompanied by my wife and two-year-old son, reading was out of the question. It was nice to have my family along though, right up until I ambled into the surgery room. It was smart to bring the mini-DVD player along for Justin, because when his attention wasn’t on the little screen he showed obvious concern for me. When I undressed to put on the Bair Paws® gown Justin stated “Daddy take a bath.” And then when I donned the blue bonnet he declared “princess hat!” Then it was a matter of lying on the recliner with an IV drip and being kept quite warm, while Justin watched My Neighbor Totoro and acted out the various parts. I was visited by two different nurses, two anesthesiologists and finally my doctor (AKA Dr. Personality.) The first anesthesiologist’s job was to ask me a few questions and to determine whether I had had any allergic reactions to anesthesia in the past. He also gave me the choice on having a local, or being out for the procedure. I knew from the beginning that I wanted to be out. If I had my way they would have given me the gas coming in the door, but that wasn’t an option. Soon I walked into the surgery room, with the aid of a nurse, who carried my IV and I got up on the table. The anesthesiologist said that she was going to give me some oxygen to breath as a shot of courage. I replied that we all needed courage and that was the last thing I remembered until I awoke in post-op.
Soon I was joined by my wife and son. The only thing left was for me to pee before we could leave the hospital. Don’t ask me what the ability to pee has to do with “enhancing the soul” of a human being, but that was my task. It is never more difficult to pee than when the pressure is on. After two cranberry juices, four waters and a nurse telling me that she would have to stick me (catheterization) if I couldn’t go, I was finally able to go. The statement by the nurse was more than enough impetus to prompt my bladder to do its job. I was provided a wheelchair and Justin rode with me as Jen pushed us to the parking garage. By the time we were in the car on the way home it was 4 p.m..
I pretty much stayed in bed for the next couple of days. I was kind of looking forward to being in a “Vicodin haze,” but my prescribed pain medication ended up being Oxycodone. It dulled my pain and allowed me to sleep, but it didn’t give me the urge to listen to Dark Side of the Moon, while simultaneously watching The Wizard of Oz.
Tomorrow I head back to Dr. Personality to make sure that everything is healing well, and that my newly enhanced soul can take the possibility of John McCain pulling a win out of his ass this coming Tuesday. Next week I have jury duty, which I have been dreading more than my surgery. The day after election day I have another doctor’s appointment to recheck my high blood pressure, and I will be visiting the dentist to get a cavity filled. I am looking forward to a break from my myriad of maladies, and I will be getting that when we take a trip to our favorite spot on the coast in mid-November: Kalaloch. It’s still the best soul enhancing experience around.
And now a musical interlude with Gnarls Barkley's "Who's Gonna Save My Soul?"