All this talk of getting old...
...It's getting me down my love...
Start looking forward to some wacked out on pain killers posting in the next few days, because I sure am! I'm actually getting a little nervous about the whole thing now. I went yesterday to do pre-admission stuff and I was just reading over the mound of paperwork the hospital gave me and it's made me anxious for tomorrow. It shouldn't be though, I've been through this before, but the last time I was under the knife was for torn cartilage and this surgery is a lot more serious. Not like open heart surgery serious, but the damage is worse this time around so the possibility of the surgeon getting in there and finding more problems is much greater. I don't know, I guess I'm just antsy about the prospect of not being able to drink Coke after midnight which, if you know me, is the worst thing that could happen. Last time as they were wheeling me to the recovery room I was still so doped up I couldn't even open my eyes but they asked me if I wanted something to drink and I mumbled out "Coke" so they gave me this tiny little cup full to the rim with ice and I drank it all in one gulp and started slurring loudly "COOOOOKE...MOOOOORE COOOOOOOKE...." and waving the cup around until a nurse took it from me before I splashed ice all over the place. By the time she got back I was clear headed enough to open my eyes and sit up and I drank that one down in one gulp and she was all "Go easy now" and I wanted to be all "Bitch, don't come between me and my Coke, I'll shank you with this IV needle!" but instead I stayed calm (mostly because my mother was in the room) and asked very politely if she would bring me another and perhaps maybe not put so much ice in it this time. I was supposed to stay in the recovery room for about an hour before they were going to let me go so they could keep an eye on me, but everything was done and there wasn't really anything they could do to keep me there so when Dad walked in a few minutes later and said he had the car at the side door I grabbed for the crutches and we started out and got half way down the hall to the exit before three nurses and my mom came running like their asses were on fire all "OHMIGOD! HE'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE UP YET! HE NEEDS A WHEELCHAIR!" and I was yelling over my shoulder "It's fine, I'm fine, we're leaving, I don't need a wheelchair, I NEED MORE COKE!" and I kept hobbling on out the door before they could get a wheelchair to me. One of the nurses looked super pissed too, but we were in the car and on the way home before they could do anything about it. By the time we got home though I had already passed back out and barely made it to the couch before I passed out again and I don't think I ever got any more Coke til hours later so all my scheming was in vain. So yeah, anxious for what might happen (did you know NERVE DAMAGE was a possible side effect of Arthoscopy? Cause I didn't til fifteen minutes ago) and the general pain the recovery is going to be (no shower for 48 hours doesn't sound appealing), but really looking forward to getting it over with.
Start looking forward to some wacked out on pain killers posting in the next few days, because I sure am! I'm actually getting a little nervous about the whole thing now. I went yesterday to do pre-admission stuff and I was just reading over the mound of paperwork the hospital gave me and it's made me anxious for tomorrow. It shouldn't be though, I've been through this before, but the last time I was under the knife was for torn cartilage and this surgery is a lot more serious. Not like open heart surgery serious, but the damage is worse this time around so the possibility of the surgeon getting in there and finding more problems is much greater. I don't know, I guess I'm just antsy about the prospect of not being able to drink Coke after midnight which, if you know me, is the worst thing that could happen. Last time as they were wheeling me to the recovery room I was still so doped up I couldn't even open my eyes but they asked me if I wanted something to drink and I mumbled out "Coke" so they gave me this tiny little cup full to the rim with ice and I drank it all in one gulp and started slurring loudly "COOOOOKE...MOOOOORE COOOOOOOKE...." and waving the cup around until a nurse took it from me before I splashed ice all over the place. By the time she got back I was clear headed enough to open my eyes and sit up and I drank that one down in one gulp and she was all "Go easy now" and I wanted to be all "Bitch, don't come between me and my Coke, I'll shank you with this IV needle!" but instead I stayed calm (mostly because my mother was in the room) and asked very politely if she would bring me another and perhaps maybe not put so much ice in it this time. I was supposed to stay in the recovery room for about an hour before they were going to let me go so they could keep an eye on me, but everything was done and there wasn't really anything they could do to keep me there so when Dad walked in a few minutes later and said he had the car at the side door I grabbed for the crutches and we started out and got half way down the hall to the exit before three nurses and my mom came running like their asses were on fire all "OHMIGOD! HE'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE UP YET! HE NEEDS A WHEELCHAIR!" and I was yelling over my shoulder "It's fine, I'm fine, we're leaving, I don't need a wheelchair, I NEED MORE COKE!" and I kept hobbling on out the door before they could get a wheelchair to me. One of the nurses looked super pissed too, but we were in the car and on the way home before they could do anything about it. By the time we got home though I had already passed back out and barely made it to the couch before I passed out again and I don't think I ever got any more Coke til hours later so all my scheming was in vain. So yeah, anxious for what might happen (did you know NERVE DAMAGE was a possible side effect of Arthoscopy? Cause I didn't til fifteen minutes ago) and the general pain the recovery is going to be (no shower for 48 hours doesn't sound appealing), but really looking forward to getting it over with.
posted by Todd Jones at 12:06 PM
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