Wednesday, February 29, 2012

THE FINAL PREP

 Today is the day for the big BLOW OUT.  Yes, take two of these pills, and mix this stuff with 64 ounces of some liquid and drink 8 oz every 15 to 30 minutes and enjoy the bathroom. (I'm using john's it's closer to the TV)   I have my pills, my "stuff" and my baby wipes.  I think I'm looking forward to the big blow out because I've been a bit irregular lately and this should be quite refreshing.

One of the things I dislike about flying and  surgical operations is the prep. (wow, what a transition!) If I could just get on a plane and go, it would be less stressful.  I don't need to hear the safety rules.  I know the barf bag is in the pocket in front of me, and I know you are blowing smoke up my a$$ when you say the seat is also a flotation device. It probably will float if I'm fortunate enough to land on it when I fall from the sky.  Besides that I'm very buoyant in salt water.   Let's just board the plane, buckle up and tell the pilot to put it in drive and get out of here. (after he takes a drug test and breathalyzer) 

Operations are the same way.  They want you there two hours early.  You repeat everything that you have already written down several times.  They do blood pressure, temperature, the IV and ask again about a living will.  Last time they made me take a pregnancy test (that was, no kidding, the third pregnancy test in 3 months) They are giving John and I a lot more credit than we deserve :)  It truly could all be done in less than an hour.  They then wheel you upstairs to a Que area where you wait for the anesthesiologists to come talk to you.  I interviewed mine to make sure he was having a good day, in good spirits and sober.  He passed.  Then you wait some more.   I'm telling you the waiting is the torture part.

Next I was wheeled  into a very cold operating room.  It was a swarm of activity.  Some dude said he was putting something in my IV to make me drowsy.  I think that was a bit of an understatement because that's the last thing I remember.  I always heard that you had to count from ten backwards, if they made me do that I don't remember it.( I had planned to count in Spanish)   The next thing I know I'm being awakened in recovery.  There was a huge clock right in front of me and it was 11:15.  There was a patient in the cube next to me, who was talking out of her mind.  She kept asking the same questions over and over and I was getting perturbed because I wasn't quite with it myself and she was bothering my slumber.  I give the nurses credit, they were so patient with her.  I think I would have squeezed her tube just a tiny tiny bit.

This is why I ask people to pray for peace of heart.  I really don't doubt that the operation will go well and things from the last two months will finally be put to bed and we can move forward, but the preparation for these things can make me crazy.  I want them to just meet me at the car and sedate me, wheel me in, do their thing and wake me up in my room. 






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