Today, for the first time in my life, I had surgery.
Yes, all those years of training, football (soccer to many of you), track and field, and mountain hikes in South West Asia, I’ve never gone under the knife. Well, today I did. Was I scared or nervous? No…more like anxious to get rid of this “thing” that had been growing like an alien species on my wrist for months.
However, all the appointments to discuss the risks of anesthesia (in its many forms); the advice from friends (about what kind of anesthesia to go for); and, just the reality of a part of my body being cut open only helped to increase my anxiety. Then came the doctors and nurses, at separate points before I was rolled into the operating room. They each explained what was going to happen, how it was going to happen, and how long it would take. They were so reassuring!
About 30 times today I was asked to verify my name and date of birth. Part of me started to think they were planning a surprise party afterwards and wanted to be sure. It never happened. They also kept asking what I was allergic to; this is when I decided to add the word “stupid” to my list of allergies. Yes, I’m allergic to stupid. Unfortunately, the nurses didn’t have a wrist band for that allergy; but they all laughed in agreement.
I was promised a drip “cocktail” that would sedate me while I was in surgery. Whatever that cocktail was, they need to put some ice cubes in it and pass me a glass, because I don’t remember squat! One minute, I was repeating my name and birthday for the umpteenth time, and the next minute, a nurse was explaining the bandages and stint on my left forearm. I slept through the whole thing!
I’m in recovery now…at home, and will need weeks of physical therapy. Nevertheless, the fact that I’m blogging this with one hand and not curled up in a fetal position in bed is a testament to God’s goodness; the professionalism and expertise of the doctors; and the care those nurses provided.