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Camera phone photo of IV insertionThursday, June 5th, was surgery day for me. It was a microdiscectomy to relieve sciatic nerve pain in my left leg. Not really a big procedure, but it required anesthesia, a breathing tube and lots of needles. As I waited in the pre-op area, thoughts raced through my head, mostly of what I was going to do with the nearly three weeks I had off from work. Then, it hit me.

What great material for a blog post!

Since I couldn’t achieve a good angle with the camera phone, Nancy happily took over the role as photographer and captured the action in wonderful detail. Being the subject of the story was a bit of a role reversal, but I’ll do anything for my readers.

Camera phone photo of hospital socksAfter receiving the first IV (as seen above), I got to lay around and crack bad jokes to the hospital staff as each one stuck their head in to check on me. The visits were brief, but I’m not sure if it was because they were busy or because my humor was too intelligent and overwhelming for them to handle. I suspect the latter.

The best part of being checked in for surgery is the whole strip-down-and-put-on-this-ridiculous-gown part. Having no choice, I eliminated every bit of coolness in me and donned the oh-so-sexy hospital gown. It could have been much worse, though, had it not been for the brand name bootie socks and awesome hair net. Had the socks not been MediChoice, I would have been, like, no way am I wearing those. As for the hair net, well, I think the smile on my face speaks for itself.

Surgery time finally arrived and I was wheeled to the operating room by an ex-military guy who was flight crew on a plane that very likely landed on the aircraft carrier I was aboard. Knowing that an ex-military guy was working on me intensified my level of anxiety, but alas, I began to experience multiple dimensions and realities before succumbing to about two hours of mind erasing sodium pentathol.

Camera phone photo of post-operative coffeeThe procedure went well and I was moved to the recovery area where I was literally ordered to go potty, or else I couldn’t leave. There was no way I planned on staying overnight just because I had a problem peeing on demand. Easy enough, right?

Wrong. While I have to give major props to the staff for providing me three cups of decent coffee - right out of surgery - I do have a problem with being placed on a who’s who watch list for post-operative bladder relievers. It was no problem drinking the coffee and an additional eight cups of water, but trying to convince the staff that I was dehydrated and felt a bit under pressure (no pun intended) was futile. A simple failure to pee was going to cost me over a thousand dollars. Not going to happen.

A shift change occurred and the resident doctor came forward bearing the bad news of my pending admission for the night. Nancy, being the best negotiator and persuader on the planet, took control of the situation after I failed to state my case for leaving. My argument and voice were cut short because of the throat irritation caused by the breathing tube that was crammed down my throat. Camera phone photo of me being awesomeShe convinced them that I would know if my bladder were about to explode and that she did indeed know how to dial 9-1-1 on the phone. Her years of CNA experience probably helped the case as well, but she made it clear that I was going home, pee or no pee.

I went home and (not) to my surprise, my bladder did not explode. Duh.

The moral of the story: don’t let the healthcare industry push you around. And no matter how uncool they make you dress, just remember that you almost always come out of surgery with all awesomeness intact. At least I did this time, as seen by the incredibly flattering photo. Let’s hope next time goes just as well.

On second thought, let’s hope there’s not a next time.

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