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Less than a Week
Mar. 11th, 2005 12:49 amI am keeping myself distracted from the surgery scheduled next Wednesday by trying to take care of every little thing. I haven't been put under since I was five and had my tonsils out. All I remember from that is the promise by a neighbor of ice cream when I got home but she never gave me any. Weird the details that stick with you. Her name was Mrs. Murphy and she rented the little house next door.
I'm doing mostly important things - making sure I have all my meds ordered and picked up. When did I became a walking fucking pharmacy? Got the taxes done. Had all the pre-op test done and called in for my phone interview with the nurse. I'm still behind packing at work. I'll pay all the bills this weekend. The weather has been so warm and springy that I have these grandiose plans of weeding the flower bed and planting some things this weekend. It's too early for the tomatoes but soon.
So back to this being conked out thing. I don't like to be out of control. (yes, I believe I hear a few family members out there laughing at this slight understatement) When I had my hand surgery about 8 years ago I requested a local and was fine with it. The only thing I hated was how cold the room was - even the warmed blankets didn't keep me all that warm.
There is something very scary about having to trust people (esp. strangers) with my body and my well being when I'm in a non-verbal and non-mobile state. Death is always a possibility while one is alive so I have to look at that piece of the puzzle too. I know it is low risk as far as surgeries go, but I personally know one person who while under for a broken bone went into a coma and never woke up again. She was brain dead and her husband eventually made the decision to remove life support. This is not a major worry but I know in the consent forms it will list various and sundry possible complications including death.
And then there's the pain. Even if my conscious brain doesn't remember the knife slicing into me, will my body remember? This all feels so unnecessary - where's the medical science of Star Trek. Point a salt shaker at me and presto changeo my meniscus is in it's original, fresh off the showroom floor condition.
And the pain includes coming awake in a strange place with strange people around. Having my knee all bandaged up. Trying to move with minimal pain. Being awkward. Maybe being nauseous and throwing up. I HATE to throw up. None of this sounds very fun, huh? So maybe limbing around the rest of my life is not looking so bad right now.
I know I'll do the adult thing, sign the consent papers, let them put needles in me, breath deeply as I sink into an unnatural sleep but that five year old inside of me is not that acquiescent. She is stamping her foot, demanding ice cream BEFORE and saying she does not like this, not ONE LITTLE BIT!
I'm doing mostly important things - making sure I have all my meds ordered and picked up. When did I became a walking fucking pharmacy? Got the taxes done. Had all the pre-op test done and called in for my phone interview with the nurse. I'm still behind packing at work. I'll pay all the bills this weekend. The weather has been so warm and springy that I have these grandiose plans of weeding the flower bed and planting some things this weekend. It's too early for the tomatoes but soon.
So back to this being conked out thing. I don't like to be out of control. (yes, I believe I hear a few family members out there laughing at this slight understatement) When I had my hand surgery about 8 years ago I requested a local and was fine with it. The only thing I hated was how cold the room was - even the warmed blankets didn't keep me all that warm.
There is something very scary about having to trust people (esp. strangers) with my body and my well being when I'm in a non-verbal and non-mobile state. Death is always a possibility while one is alive so I have to look at that piece of the puzzle too. I know it is low risk as far as surgeries go, but I personally know one person who while under for a broken bone went into a coma and never woke up again. She was brain dead and her husband eventually made the decision to remove life support. This is not a major worry but I know in the consent forms it will list various and sundry possible complications including death.
And then there's the pain. Even if my conscious brain doesn't remember the knife slicing into me, will my body remember? This all feels so unnecessary - where's the medical science of Star Trek. Point a salt shaker at me and presto changeo my meniscus is in it's original, fresh off the showroom floor condition.
And the pain includes coming awake in a strange place with strange people around. Having my knee all bandaged up. Trying to move with minimal pain. Being awkward. Maybe being nauseous and throwing up. I HATE to throw up. None of this sounds very fun, huh? So maybe limbing around the rest of my life is not looking so bad right now.
I know I'll do the adult thing, sign the consent papers, let them put needles in me, breath deeply as I sink into an unnatural sleep but that five year old inside of me is not that acquiescent. She is stamping her foot, demanding ice cream BEFORE and saying she does not like this, not ONE LITTLE BIT!
