This is the first surgery I have ever had. I hope it is the last. The operation went very well, and I was actually up and walking relatively soon, but I was in a lot of discomfort and not even morphine would not dull some of the pain.
Here’s what happened.
The Complementary Spouse and I arrived at St. Joseph’s Hospital at 5:30 a.m. on Thursday to find the check-in desk on the second floor deserted. There was a sign-up sheet on the desk, so I filled out my name and we went to the neighboring waiting room. Eventually, a short woman came by to get us, and led us to the pre-surgery area where I was asked to clean myself with premoistened sheets that smelled like Wet Ones and were as thick as Swiffer pads. I then put on my gown, and got into the hospital bed. A nurse came around to put in my IV, which she secured with approximately 50 pieces of tape. The anesthesiologist came by to visit, reassuring me that everything would be OK. The surgeon also stepped by to meet with me. Around this time, my parents arrived as well, so the room got crowded.
The anesthesiologist was named Dr. McCoy. I couldn’t resist making a Star Trek joke. I’m sure no one had made one before.