"Under, Over, and Around the Knife" by Troy H. Cheek on Jan 04, 2005

If this is the last update you see for a while, it might be because I'm simply unable to operate the computer. I could be dead.

By the time you read this, you see, I'll be in surgery. My right arm will be cut open, my ulnar nerve will be moved, the carpal tunnel around my median nerve will be widened, and this will all be done under a general anesthetic because my doctor doesn't think I can hold still for an hour and a half.

This is referred to as a minor procedure.

The last time I had a general anesthetic was when I was about 8 or 10 years old and was having my tonsils removed. As I remember it, I went in on a Wednesday morning and was supposed to go home Thursday morning. I remember waking up Friday night. Nobody would answer my questions because since Wednesday night I'd been waking up every two hours asking the same questions then falling back asleep. It wasn't until I woke up Saturday morning and could tell them what I watched on TV Friday night that they started taking me seriously. I got to go home Sunday. My father carried me to the car because I couldn't walk and they were out of wheelchairs.

This was also referred to as a minor procedure.

They also lied to me about least two things. First of all, they asked me if I wanted to be put to sleep with gas or a shot. I chose gas because I didn't want a shot. They promised me that I wouldn't have to get any shots. Secondly, since I was told that since my throat would be sore after the procedure, I was promised that I could eat all the ice cream I wanted to make it feel better. I asked for chocolate.

The first thing they did when I got signed in was put me in a bed and wheel me down the hall to... Well, further down the hall. It seems there was no room at the inn, er, hospital, so I'd have to wait in the hall until an operating room opened up. While I was waiting, they gave me a shot.

Yes, after promising not to. "But you promised that I wouldn't have to get a shot for my tonsil surgery!"

"Oh, honey, this isn't a shot for your procedure. This is a shot to calm you down until the procedure."

I hopped out of the bed, bounced off the security guard, and highballed it down the hall. If that fire door had opened up and sounded the alarm like it was supposed to, they never would have caught me. One shot later and I just lay there for a few hours watching the ceiling lights rotate back and forth. Then I was taken to the operating room, told to breathe and count backwards from 100.

100... 99... 98... 97...

Then, as I said before, I woke up two days later.

My next surprise was when I asked for my ice cream. Chocolate ice cream. Cold, soothing, chocolate ice cream.

Unfortunately, I'd developed an infection in my throat and couldn't eat any dairy products as this thickens the mucus. Instead, I got artificially-sweetened lemon-flavored frozen on a stick things.

Articially sweeteners didn't taste good 25 years ago.

Back in the present, I have been assured that anesthetics have improved greatly in the intervening years and that there is no chance of me taking two days to remember who I am. I am also assured that I can eat whatever I want after the surgery.

I asked for that in writing, but they thought I was joking.

I went in for my pre-admission testing last week. This starts by filling out lots of paperwork, arguing with a clerk about what procedures are actually being done, and paying a $75 co-pay. I convinced them to check my blood pressure before doing any of the other tests, so my readings weren't too high above normal.

Then came time to take blood. I argued with the young lady and finally convinced her that my veins were lying. There isn't a really easy vein right under the surface of my inner left elbow. It certainly looks like there is, but it disappears when you stick a needle in. Trust me. Better phlebotomists than you have tried. Sticking the viens in the back of my hands is easier and, contrary to popular wisdom, much less painful.

Next, I got my very first EKG. They hooked up leads to check my pulse, atrial fibulations, ventrial fibulations, muscle conductivity, and credit report. The girl didn't run away screaming after she read it, so I'm assuming it was roughly normal. No sign of an inverted T-wave.

Not that I have an inverted T-wave. I don't even know what an inverted T-wave is. I just heard that once and like bringing it up every time an EKG is mentioned. Inverted T-wave. So there.

Finally, I got to sit back and answer another thousand or so questions about my medical history. I answered every question honestly and in great detail. For example:

"Any history of mental illness, anxiety, or depression?"

"Not until I came in for pre-testing."

Anyway, eventually it was over and I was told what time to come in, what to wear, what not to eat the night before, what medications to take or not take the day of the surgery, etc. Then I left pre-testing and went back to work.

Yes, I'm having my procedure done at the same hospital I work for. The hand doctor prefers his own medical center, but I prefer being in familiar surroundings. Besides, I have lots of friends at work who will be pulling for me. For example, the girls who work in Day Surgery:

"You're in trouble now, mister!"

"And good morning to you, too, miss. What do you mean?"

"We just got the patient list for next week. You're going to be sorry about all those parking tickets you've been writing!"

"I don't think I've ever written any for this department. I just politely asked you not to park in the patient parking area."

"There are never any patients parked there when we come in! Or when we leave, either!"

"That's because you come in and start setting up at 5am and your patients don't start coming in until you officially open at 6am. Likewise, you discharge all your patients at least an hour before you lock up and leave."

"Well, that still doesn't explain why we never see any patients parked in the patient parking area!"

"Actually, that explains exactly why you never see the patients parked in the patient parking area."

"Ooooh! That does it! We're changing your procedure orders! You're going to come out of surgery as a girl!"

Yes, it's great to be loved.

Copyright 2005 by Troy H. Cheek. Reprint with prior written permission only. Comments and questions to $mail:theview$