Hernia is never the best word to start off a blog entry, but the fact remains that this week was my surgery, the one I told you about in Marooned. When I had the C-sections for my kids 20+ years ago, they kept you in the hospital for a full seven days. Now I believe it’s more like two. At the terrific ambulatory surgery center where my procedure was performed, I arrived at 11:00 and was home by 3:00. If things keep going the way they are, those four hour slots will eventually be reserved for organ transplants and they’ll be doing hernias in the drive-thru.
The whole experience was remarkably decent. On arrival, the pre-op nurse asked me all the relevant questions and wrote down my answers: Are you wearing jewelry anywhere? Do you have any allergies? When was the last time you had something to eat or drink? On which side is your hernia?
I waved my hands in the air to show my empty fingers, and swore there was no belly ring. I told her I was allergic to cats and pollen. I had Cheerios at 8:00 the night before, and Vitamin Water at 10:00. The hernia was on my left side. Then she looked down to where she’d written my birth date, and leaned in closer to ask confidentially if it was safe to assume I wouldn’t be pregnant. I asked if she was familiar with what the brown bear does in the woods while the Pope’s busy being Catholic. She nodded.
Husband helped me change out of my street clothes, and then excused himself to take a phone call. On the tray next to me was a poufy powder blue cap the exact same color as the keep-it-open-in-the-front gown and non-skid bootie socks. It was clearly an ensemble.
As I was slipping the cap over my hair, I knew precisely what I would look like in it. Husband appeared at the curtain opening and verified my hunch.
HUSBAND: I’ll have the chicken nuggets with macaroni and cheese, Mrs. Grimley.
OSV: I saw you cut the line. For that you get fish sticks.
The anesthesiologist sat down next to me and asked the name, birth date, jewelry, allergy, food questions again, and compared them with my previous answers. They really weren’t taking any chances I would fail any part of this polygraph. Far from being impatient with all the repetition, their attention to detail made me happy. As someone who delivered my first child with minimal sedation to make sure the baby I came out of the hospital with was the same baby that came out of me, I was warmly reassured.
A young man who introduced himself as the physician’s assistant arrived and directed Husband to the waiting area. We kissed and he departed. As the PA walked me in my traction-sole booties into the operating room, he repeated the now familiar questions once again in the presence of the OR staff. I responded as the A+ student I am.
OSV: No jewelry anywhere. Cats and pollen. Cheerios at 8 pm and Vitamin Water at 10.
The sea of powder blue lunch-lady caps waited expectantly.
OSV: The left side.
DOCTOR: Lay down and let’s roll.
What’s Going On Here? is the question asked by Daughter’s Featured Fotos
eye in the sky, 3rd annual deitch art parade
the incredible diving man in washington square
please don’t smoke in the daisies, howl art in the park at tompkins square
fun at the gitmo playground? (origin unknown)
Note: Thanx for the flowers, Blondie! You and Vicodin made my day.