Survived surgery (ha)

Bob and I were the first customers at Paoli surgery center last Wednesday -even waiting for the door to be unlocked. I was dressed and prepped; and waited, and waited....... When the doctor arrived I asked if the traffic on the 202 was bad. He replied that he was at a prayer breakfast for a friend and it went a little overtime. (Note to self: Keep this doctor. A doctor who prays is not going to be cocky about his own powers!)

I was positioned on the table before the sedative took effect. So when I awoke, still on the table, I was expecting the quick removal of a 1" orthopedic hardware screw. The nurse handed me a specimen jar (for you-know-what) with a screw spanning the diagonal volume of it. THAT'S 2 1/2 TO 3 INCHES!!! Then she added that they had to boost my anesthesia to spinal anesthesia. Guess that screw was a lot harder to extract. Plus there was a sac of fluid on my knee that had to be drained before anything else could be done. That was the point of removing the screw; it irritated the skin over it. So it was THAT bad, that my knee tried to make a water balloon cushion. When I had shaken off a mild nauseous feeling, by burping out all the air in my empty stomach, I was repositioned on a gurney and rolled to the post-operative area.

I lay a short while in the post-operative area. Once sensation had returned to my ankles and I could rotate my feet, I was moved from post-op to the recovery area at the other end of the room. The nurses raised the head of my gurney to a semi-sitting position so I could eat. Graham crackers are a standard in medical facilities - not salty, nor empty calories - and I chose to wash them down with ginger ale. Take that, nausea!

The last surprise came before leaving. I had chosen to dress in the restroom. I found my legs worked fine, but my nether lands were a block of numb wood! I was freaked enough to pull the call light. The nurse responding told me that all was normal: the very end of the spine is the last to recover. "Numb butt? It'll come to in an hour." I wondered if (a) they retained men until all the feeling had returned or (b) anyone male had ever threatened a lawsuit. It seems to be a tenet in this culture that a man who is dead in this department may as well be dead and buried. And yes, feeling had returned by the time I got home.

Bob stopped at the pharmacy and picked up the Vicodin. I took it for a day and a half and promptly misplaced the bottle - I guess I knocked it off while sleeping in my living room lounger. So I went back to my Aleve-and-Extra Strength acetaminophen arthritis routine. The only thing that hurts more than usual is hitting the two-stitch incision. This too, friends, shall pass.