Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Paging Dr. Fudge


My first official surgery is now under my belt.

Well, technicially not "under my belt" but slightly above it.

Let me just say this about surgery - I don't dig it.

Prior to any semi-important undertaking in my life, whether it's a presentation to a client, an early morning flight or Ziggy's first day of school, I am anxious.

I
can't sleep.

I toss. I turn.

I watch the clock all night.

So one would think I was restless and sleep-deprived prior to this procedure. And yet...

I slept great.

No worries.

No bad dreams.

Just sleep.

And then I woke up.

Panic-stricken.

What if I have an asthma attack while under anesthesia? And they don't realize it, because clearly I can't tell them, so I choke to death?

What if Dr. Fudge (I kid you not) fudges my surgery and removes the wrong body part, leaving me to poop in a bag for the rest of my adult life? I really don't want to poop in a bag, Dr. Fudge.

Hey nurse, you sure that's my name on the top of that chart?

You there, Dr. whats-your-name-with-the-anesthesia, did you hear what the nurse said about the IV line? Ok, just checking.

10 - 9 - 8 - zzzzz

Fast forward to the recovery room where I am up to my elbows in discomfort.

There's the vomit that's threatening to come up and out.

And the mind-numbing pain in my abdomen. Man, that flippin' hurts.

But what's even worse is the fact that I'm too hoarse to yell to the guy on the other side of the curtain.

"Hey! As much as I'd love to know if holding it in because you won't poop at K-mart because the bathrooms are gross, even though your wife will poop at K-mart because those things don't bother her, is causing the sore anus you're talking about VERY LOUDLY I'm a little preoccupied with other things right now so be quiet!"

Sleep.

Pain.

Wheelchair.

M
ore pain.

Home.

So I'm laid up for another day or two with nothing but time on my hands and some little white pills that gives the pain tolerably fuzzy edges.

Frustrated with my inability to tackle my "to do while recuperating" list I had created. Laughing at myself for creating it. Frustrated at my lack of motivation.

I don't do nothing very well.

However...

My mind wanders. The story teller in me refuses to walk away from an uneventful gall bladder surgery without even a twinkle of a drama. No I-woke-up-during-surgery stories. No removal of the wrong organ.

Bo-ring.

My first surgery and no tale to tell. In a few short weeks there will be nothing left behind except for the four angry scars on my once unmarred stomach and a no-drama gallbladder removal.

But look at those incisions, would you?

Huh.

They're kind of round-ish.

Nasty looking things, aren't they?

Two on the side.

One above my rib cage. Another one by my belly button.

Hmmm... you know what they look like?

D
on't you?

Listen, should it happen to come up in conversation, I mean if anyone asks you...

Scratch your head, glance around like you're not supposed to tell, lean in uncomfortably close and whisper...

"Gunshot wounds."

6 comments:

Woman in Love said...

Surgery is tough 'n I don't care how "minor" it's proclaimed to be!

Hang in there Sharon things get better daily. Really they do.

As for the story...first, how many people you gut lookin at your abdomen, Baby? Hmmmm? Second, yep, gunshot wounds. At a trade show.

What, you didn't read about this?

It was really something but I don't like to talk about it.

Or you could just shudder and say (tres dramatically) "oh, that? Well, it was..... (trailing off as your eyes mist slightly)...I guess I just can't talk about that, yet, sorry"

:)

Little Ms J said...

You are so gangster.

I love that your doc is Fudge. My first OB/Gyn was Mechanik and the one now is Spoon. Nice.

Debbie said...

Gunshot wounds do sound a little more thrilling.
And anything will keep me awake. I'm sure I'd be awake for a month or so if I was having surgery.

Erin MacPherson said...

Awww man... I'm so sorry!! Hang in there! I haven't ever had sugury... unless you count my c-sections... they were horrible!

peewee said...

I was doing a search for "shaun cassidy' pics and your post came up and I read the whole letter to him and DIED laughing cuz I coulda written that same letter! HAHAHHA. I am forever connected to you....we'll always have shaun.

SharonKendrew said...

WIL - gunshot wounds, that's my story.

J - for-shizzle

Debbie - rule number one in the mom handbook, no sleep. ever.

Erin - of course they count, but not as cool as gunshot wounds!

Peewee, my new soulmate! David could never hold a candle to Shaun, could he? guess we'll have to share!