Actual conversations had last week with various and sundry hospital staff members as I prepared for twinkie-hole surgery. (By the way - I had surgery last week. I could explain it in doctor words, but I won't. I'll just say what I told everyone - I had a mole removed out of my twinkie-hole.)
Me, being wheeled to pre-op on a gurney to orderly going down the hospital corridor: Huh. I've never seen a gurney from this perspective before. This is strange.
Orderly, bored: Mm-hmm.
Me: Wow. It's kinda like Mr. Toad's Wild Ride.
Orderly, still bored: What?
Me: Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. You know, from Disney World.
Orderly: No, can't say that I do.
Me: Well, it's this ride from the book Wind in the Willows. Mr. Toad drives your car, and he careens all over the place, kinda like you're doing now - no straight lines, ever - and doors open automatically when you get close to them, and it's a little unpredictable because you don't know what's going to happen next.
Orderly: Is it a roller coaster or something?
Me: Oh no, it's for little kids. It's pretty dinky actually. Next time you go, look for it - oh wait. You can't. They turned it into a Winnie the Pooh ride. Never been on that one. Anyway, gurney rides remind me of Mr. Toad's Wild ride. Haha, you're my Mr. Toad!
Orderly gratefully drops me off in pre-op room, and RN gets a jillion tubes out and attaches them to me.
RN: There you are, Megan. Doing ok?
Me: I'm just so thirsty. I can't have a sip of water?
RN: No, I'm sorry... here, I'll turn up your IV and give you a drink that way..... is that better?
Me: Erm...
RN: Here, this may help. It's a (insert doctor gobbltygoop) that wets your mouth. It tastes like a lemon drop.
Me, tasting the wet Q-tip thing: Oh.... yes, thank you.
RN: No lemon drop, huh?
Me: Not even a little bit.
Poor orderly returns to take me to OR.
Orderly: Ok here we are. Get up on the operating table.
Me: HEY! Aren't you going to pick me up like they do in the movies and put me on the table?
Orderly: Uh... no. You're awake and can do it yourself.
Me, sulkily: All right. (scootches off gurney and onto table) But what about when I wake up? Will you pick me up then?
Orderly: If you're still unconscious, yes, we'll pick you up.
Me, protesting: But I'll be asleep! I won't remember it!
Anesthesiologist arrives and puts me to sleep to the relief of everyone in the OR so I will finally shut the hell up.
What happens next happens allegedly... although I have some vague recollection of the following events:
Doctor: words words words words words (I have some memory of her talking to me but couldn't for the life of me tell you what she said. Thank god she talked to Mama too. Otherwise that golf-ball size wad of gauze that fell out of my twinkie hole three days later would have REALLY come as as shocker.) Ok, Megan, you're ready to go back to recovery now.
Orderly: Ok, get back on the gurney.
Me, groggily complying, when suddenly: OH WAIT!! Aren't you going to pick me up?
Orderly: SIGH. Ok... one two three, up!
Me: WHOOOOO-HOOOOOOOO!!!! JUST LIKE IN THE MOVIES!!!!
Then I think the joy knocked me back out again. In any event, I woke up in the recovery room and saw my nurse from surgery.
Me: Mona? Did you pick me up after surgery?
Mona: You don't remember? YOU YELLED.
Me: I did? Oh..... I did didn't I?
(I proceed to laugh hysterically. It's good to know I'm funny even when I'm unconscious. Mona shakes her head and walks away.)
After two minutes I turned to the RN and told her I was bored and thirsty for a Coke. She gave me one and took me back to my room.
I was home with Mama and the Dipper an hour later - and Max and Lucy who Mama had to physically restrain from jumping on me when I arrived. I think it's a testament to the awesomeness of the House of Venable that a weekend convalescing with my family was a wonderful two days of laughter and fun, with visits from friends, unexpected Valentines celebrations, and lots and lots of love.
Now! It's friend Sharon's turn to undergo the knife. WHY we did not arrange to have our surgeries on the same day, I'll never know. Our mothers could have shared the waiting room and taken turns on who was going to worry the most. In any event, Friday morning will be spent with friends who get operated together (or at least a week apart) STAY TOGETHER.
Over and out.
No comments:
Post a Comment