Wednesday, October 26, 2016

Procedure Du Jour

Yes, yes. The Procedure Du Jour. But you must suffer through my telling of it!

 0530 - Up with with two women (My Bride & The Girl) who did not wish to be up at 0530 and dealing with the woes of Your Humble Narrator.

0600 - The Girl is deposited at Her Grandmother's House, where she ponders the universe from a 14yr old's perspective, and waits to be dropped off at High School while My Bride continue to drive the two of us to Memorial for The Procedure.

0700 - Admitted to Pre-Op Whereupon a scrub-festooned army of different nurses randomly visit for the next two hours. Your Humble Narrator figured it was to argue over who was to do the sponging, later. But it turned out to be formalities such as: Do you have any dentures or piercings? When is the last time you ate? (Which was asked at least five times!) Are you allergic to anything? (Just pain...) Who will make medical decisions for you in the event that you are not able to? And can I get you a blanket, or anything? (Since they are apparently required to keep the Surgical Unit at the precise temperature that begins to slow your heartbeat, without throwing you into full blown hypothermia!) Oh yeah, at some point, one of the Inquisitors came through and decided their lovely veins on my arm were not as lovely as the veins on the back of my hand and put the IV in there.

0900 - Wheeled into OR4. Slid me onto a separate, much colder bed, removed my glasses and placed an antiseptic-smelling mask over my face in one very ninja-like movement, and plunged me into darkness after only twice saying, "Smooth deep breaths." The rest was silence.

1000 - Or thereabouts - The high tides retreat and Your Humble Narrator's brain comes up for its own air. Felt decidedly hung over for the first few minutes as Arthur ("Call me Art") asks "How are you doing?" and takes my vital signs every 74 seconds. After the fifth rotation of questions and vitals, my eyes are able to stay open as the dizziness from the Anesthesia  Hangover has subsided and my answers likely become more coherent and less pseudo vulgar.For the next hour, the excitement continues to mount. First one of my neighbors goes into anaphylactic shock and  is hit with multiple unsuccessful syringes of epinephrine before they re-sedate her and wheel her off to the ICU.Then a new neighbor is brought in, after receiving "back surgery." As his brain wakes up, it decides that combat is called for. Immediate combat! His body responds by kicking off the sheets, to the shock and awe of his nurse (Bart (Yes, that was his name!)) And when The Combatant decides to start at the various lines and tubes cleverly plugged into him, my nurse ("Call me Art") leaps into action to support the embattled Nurse Bart. Being the most lucid patient on the unit certainly had its advantages and thankfully no additional aid was required for me. Because none was available. But the free entertainment helped pass the time.

1100 - Back to the Pre-Op, where My Bride awaited.......patiently. (*rimshot*) My doctor had already left instructions for future care. An impressively strong prescription was ordered. Additional wraps put in place as soon my first attempt at standing resulted in a trickle of blood being released from the initial wraps. The Mandatory Itchy & Flimsy Gown was removed, to replaced by Nerd Approved street clothes. And then the long Wheel Chair Ride of Shame back to our car.

1200 - Stopped to be measured for a "brace" that won't arrive for 7 - 10 days later.

1300 - Home again. Without a skin graft. And surprisingly NOT in any form of pain or discomfort. But quite hungry, having not eaten all day.

And that, My Friends, concludes The Procedure Du Jour. Further updates will be provided as they become available. Including unfiltered commentary about the lack of fitness which will follow...
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