How great to come home and find all the good wishes waiting for me here! Everything is fine, although my appearance is rather dramatic. I will spare you photos of the bloody bandaging around my neck, a dressing which must stay on, unchanged, until Friday (for reasons which I will also omit) – but no worries, for my students, I promise to wrap a scarf around it : ) : ) I will also try not to be so doped up on Oxycodone that I can’t function in lessons... (I don’t even think I will fill the prescription because it would be so tempting to take it, not because the pain is so bad, but because the stuff makes you feel way too good!!) Anyway, as Rick wrote, the only hitch was that this was all more major than we were led to believe, somehow. The operation itself was a solid two hours (not that I was aware of time passing) and it did require an overnight stay, for which I was not prepared (how could everyone have told me that it would be day surgery, when it wasn’t??) I mostly behaved, and didn’t cut up too much, after having slightly offended my surgeon with one too many jokes in the pre-op appointment. Although…this was pretty funny: They have these new hospital “gowns,” at least, I haven’t seen them before. They are more like paper than fabric, with a porthole in the side. You put one on, drape a blanket over your legs to hold the bottom down, and an air hose gets hooked up to the porthole. (Seriously.) You are then handed a controller for adjusting the temperature of the air now gently blowing into your gown. I was laughing almost hysterically – I mean, depending on where I rested my arms, I either looked like Dolly Parton (arms on tummy, air up at chest), or like I was nine months pregnant (arms on chest, air billowing around abdomen), or like Veruca from Willie Wonka, who turns into a blueberry (arms down at sides, entire gown filling with air – and the gown is blue.) THEN, they encased my calves up in these wrappers that periodically squeezed my legs, to prevent blood clots (okay, I can see the value of that), but now I’m lying there, looking like a giant blueberry, with my calves getting squeezed. (I kept thinking of Woody Allen, for some reason. And afterwards, when they were wheeling me on the gurney to my room, going through hallways, doorways, I kept thinking of the opening scene from one of the Police Squad movies - the camera angle was an exact match of my point of view, and crashes and disasters happen all along the way – anyone remember that?) Anyway, by the time I was coming out from the anesthesia, it was almost six o’clock, and Rick and I had not had a chance to talk about what to do regarding my overnight stay, and whether he should wait to see me after surgery. I was worried about Eleanor, and the clock was running out on her babysitter. Fortunately, he had gone home, which set my mind at ease. However, he had ALL of my stuff, what little of it there was: cell phone, purse, clothing. The only items I had with me were my glasses and a great book. It felt odd at first to have no cell phone or computer, but the next sixteen hours were heaven! My roommate was knocked out most of the time, never turned on her TV, and had no visitors. I never turned on my TV, and I got the nurses to turn off all of the beeping sounds on monitors. We were in the last room at the end of a quiet hallway. So I spent hours in total peace and silence, floating on alternating happy clouds of morphine and Percocet, reading the best book yet by one of my favorite authors: In Sunlight and In Shadow, by Mark Helprin. Really, truly, this was as good as going to a spa overnight. (It takes very little to make me happy : ) ) Oh, and the first thing I did was wiggle my mouth to make sure there was no nerve damage, and everything is great. It was also the first thing the doctor asked me about, too, to make sure all was fine for flute playing, so he really was looking out for me. Time now for some Starbucks coffee, a drug I will permit myself, (although I’m starting to think I might break down about the Oxycodone, my neck is throbbing) with real half and half – unavailable in the hospital – and return to reading the Mark Helprin. And perhaps watching this a few more times, which is fantastic: https://youtube/watch?v=cG4CEr2aiSg#action=share
Posted on: Wed, 19 Mar 2014 19:56:45 +0000