SPONTANEOUS FRIDAY

For those new to my blog I am finishing up on my experience of my hospital stay. I had knee replacement surgery on November 30^th and saw my experience as one would view a play.

Please check out my previous post here in case you need some additional info. For the rest of you…..on with the show.

 

Act Four

The two assistance were funny as they wheeled me down the long hallway. I’m pretty sure I laughed as they made light conversation. Afterwards I wondered if they were joking at all.

Did I mention the drug cocktail I was on?

They over shot the exit and quickly backed up. One teased the other for her mishap. It was the second time that morning, she exclaimed. The other replied with a giggle.

I entered a room full of overhead lights, people organizing instruments and lots of scrubs and masks.

Eyes only, I thought.

The gurney evened with a table for one. Clearly I was dining alone. The two assistance smiled as I tried to move myself over. Forgetting for a moment that my legs had taken a vacation I leaned back in a failed position.

The two assistance steadied to my left as two new acquaintances appeared on my right. On a count of three, somebody yelled as they counted up to the magic number and moved me over. 

I immediately asked why it was always three. If I were number four I’d feel forgotten and sad. My remark was met with a giggle.

 

We Meet Again

Dr. Schabel immediately appeared. She joked we had to stop meeting like this as she was fitted with gloves and a mask. A curious instrument was fitted over her head. I noticed a round object sized for her eyes only as it dangled just above her forehead.

I was tempted to make light of the situation but noticed she was in deep thought. Best to leave the driver alone, I figured, when traveling a dangerous road.

I suddenly realized my leg being held in the air. More lines were being draw as my leg was slowly becoming the center of attention.

The anesthesiologist appeared just above my head and said hello. I figured now was the perfect time to joke about my leg. Sadly he was the only one who laughed, but at least I had an audience.

 

Music and Tools

I was positive I heard soft music being played but then again my mind may have been playing tricks. But if it was being played the sound was soothing to the ears.

The anesthesiologist explained I would be out but not completely under. I found his words confusing but I made a promise they would make sense later on.

A blue sheet was placed in front of my eyes, inches above my chest. The curtain was drawn. Lights, camera, action!

I heard voices, tools and music. For a moment I was trapped in a dream unable to run. The dream crashed and the voices grew. I was positive I heard hammering and the sound of a saw.

On a side note: The following day Dr. Shabel told me she couldn’t believe I was still awake. Neither could the anesthesiologist. My resistance to the drugs were a tad high.

 

The Anesthesiologist is a patient’s best friend

I had visions of being trapped in a workshop where I was the product being made. I drew my head back and found my old friend, Mister Anesthesiologist. Give me the good stuff, I said. Clearly nothing else works.

I watched him look straight ahead as though he were waiting for an answer. I soon heard a familiar voice in the distance – we have to stop meeting like this – In an instant the curtain closed and darkness followed.

 

The City, confusion and a final curtain call

I was awakened by the sound of my name. Confused, I discovered I was in a strange place surrounded by other patients. The Portland skyline lay to my left. A poor lady across curled in a fetal position while a man a few feet away promised the nurse he was about to get sick.

A lady to my right was delivered grape juice and Jell-O. Seeing how I was eyeing it so closely the nurse asked if I’d like the same.

Sometime during all of this my wife paid a visit and my appetite increased. Cheeseburger, Fries and a coke – Oh my!

After observing the other patients and their post-surgery misery I realized in that moment a spinal is the only way to go. The head is clear and the body isn’t sick.

It’s a win-win all around.

But I must admit a bit of guilt ran through my veins as I munched down the tasty burger while others around me wished for better days.

So here I am. My future full of physical therapy, aches and pains. My knee may never be perfect but who cares. Perfection is another word for over-rated.

I am happy it’s over but most of all I am happy to be back.    

 

Happy Friday Everyone!!!

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