Surgical moves

May 13, 2013

Surgery jitters took me outside for a walk with Dylan, a perky and active tri-colored Border Collie. Headed to the giant bowl park in Richfield to pick up trash and chase sticks for an hour, guess which I did, yep,, three bags full. We were accompanied by a handsome and busy German Short-haired Pointer that eventually disappeared behind a neighboring house. I scampered away and disappeared around the corner since I would have felt responsible for him had we gotten back to the house, enormous dog in tow.

No flashy jewelry, body lotions, flammable hair spray, colorful make-up, much missed deodorant, fragrant perfume, cover-up nail polish nor pregnancies allowed. I thoroughly scrubbed down left thigh-to-toes with glowing pink soap last night and this morning in the tub. Set the timer for five minutes while scrubbing the surgical sites and dreamt of better days to come. I was nervous and inflexible about my anger and being held victim to circumstance. My good friend, Margie phoned me to murmur a prayer together which was helpful. Surrounded by friends and family, supportive calls and well wishes I eventually shook off the grave sight face and dread.

Donned a fashionable hospital gown opened at the back, fancy blue slippers and matching hairnet that would have caused a stir in the street had I chosen to escape. Reluctantly decided to remain indoors and undergo an operation. From the time I entered the facility, greeted by an elderly man fastened to a wheelchair with an Elks Club look about him, assisting lost and introspective patients at the information booth to scooting out the front door with the tender nurse, to my edifying follow-up call just now, I was catered-to, joked with, calmed, informed and taken well care of. My numerous questions were answered and all of the women expressed great interest in the story of my injury in Brasil. Or maybe I am just making that up! They were humoring me.

I was hot, so steamy and uncomfortable under the blanket with a hose attached to a machine that blew tropical air into it. Difficult to imagine myself parked on the beach. The nurse suggested my hands were too cold to tap my vein so I couldn’t continue to pretend to read my book because she hid my hands under the warm blowing breeze. Read the same page over and over without an iota of an idea of the storyline. So many nurses, doctors with clogs and tennis shoes, identical blue scrubs and caps entered and exited at a furious revolving door pace. My blood pressure bleeped on a monitor, fluids entering my vein and my mind in pursuit of answers to questions I couldn’t formulate.

Wonderful Nettie was there to pick me up, insisting on arriving early and since the surgery started an hour later than scheduled and went over half and hour, she had to sit and linger. 

Gulped water, chatted about I don’t know what and passed out.