Arriving at the orthopedic hospital for my knee replacement surgery, I was the calmest I’ve ever been in a surgical situation. My blood pressure clocked in at 134/90. “Hmm,” said the nurse, “that’s pretty great.” You have no idea, I thought. Generally, in a hospital situation, my BP is in the vicinity of 150+/120+. The results that morning were a credit to my cardiologist as well as an indicator of how ready I was to be there.
Ready. So Ready. My copy of the hospital surgical guide was worn, dogeared, scribbled on, underlined. I knew exactly what was going to happen in each step of this procedure. Afterward, waiting at home were an ice-chilled leg cuff machine and our newly purchased adjustable bed frame. Meals were arriving for the next three weeks, so Dave just had to take care of me. I had a long list of things to watch. The furniture was re-arranged and scatter rugs picked up out of the way. I had a cool designer cane. My walker was here at the hospital with me. PT was set up for the next month. The only things left on the list were picking up the drugs (Dave’s job) and passing the PT/OT test at the hospital so I could go home.
It was a long wait back in the prep area for the OR. There was apparently a delay in cleaning the room (one does not ask why) after the last surgery. Dave came to sit with me for a few minutes until they made him leave. I meditated when I could and they mostly left me alone. Finally a chatty surgical nurse came in. She wanted to make sure I knew exactly what to do for the epidural they were about to give me when we got to the OR, so she made me practice hugging a pillow. Not exactly rocket science, but, ok. We bonded over past surgeries. She wished me luck and wheeled me in.
I liked the anesthesiologist immediately. He said they were going to put something in my IV to relax me, and then numb me up to ßgive me the epidural. I sat on the side of the table, as instructed, and bent over the pillow. At that moment, what flashed through my mind was “Holy Shit! I wouldn’t let them give me one of these when I was in the delivery room. Why am I doing this now?”, but before my monkey mind could take that one and run with it, the whole team burst into applause. Say what?
Ready. So Ready. My copy of the hospital surgical guide was worn, dogeared, scribbled on, underlined. I knew exactly what was going to happen in each step of this procedure. Afterward, waiting at home were an ice-chilled leg cuff machine and our newly purchased adjustable bed frame. Meals were arriving for the next three weeks, so Dave just had to take care of me. I had a long list of things to watch. The furniture was re-arranged and scatter rugs picked up out of the way. I had a cool designer cane. My walker was here at the hospital with me. PT was set up for the next month. The only things left on the list were picking up the drugs (Dave’s job) and passing the PT/OT test at the hospital so I could go home.
It was a long wait back in the prep area for the OR. There was apparently a delay in cleaning the room (one does not ask why) after the last surgery. Dave came to sit with me for a few minutes until they made him leave. I meditated when I could and they mostly left me alone. Finally a chatty surgical nurse came in. She wanted to make sure I knew exactly what to do for the epidural they were about to give me when we got to the OR, so she made me practice hugging a pillow. Not exactly rocket science, but, ok. We bonded over past surgeries. She wished me luck and wheeled me in.
I liked the anesthesiologist immediately. He said they were going to put something in my IV to relax me, and then numb me up to ßgive me the epidural. I sat on the side of the table, as instructed, and bent over the pillow. At that moment, what flashed through my mind was “Holy Shit! I wouldn’t let them give me one of these when I was in the delivery room. Why am I doing this now?”, but before my monkey mind could take that one and run with it, the whole team burst into applause. Say what?
Suddenly there was a chorus of “That’s beautiful!” “Textbook position!” “Wow!” One person even asked, “Can we use you if we make a training film of how people are supposed to do this for us?” My nose still in the pillow, I said a muffled “sure….” And then I remember picking up my head and saying, “Hypermobility for the win!” FADE TO BLACK... |