Not long ago I had the
pleasure of getting a MRI. I thought hospital procedures couldn’t
get anymore fun than being stuffed into a king-sized sausage maker. I was wrong. Knee surgery is where it’s at. I’m going to be on crutches for a while, which is a real challenge because most days I have a hard time walking across a room without running into something. So for now I’m parked in front of the laptop, where I shouldn’t get into too much trouble…
The fun started when I
found out I’d have to start fasting the day before. Nothing to eat
or drink. This is a real problem for someone who is slender and
dainty like myself, because the loss of just a few carbs can cause me to faint. Okay, so that’s a bit of a stretch. I could probably go
on a hunger strike for a month and come out looking like a rock star. Nevertheless, I found the experience quite unsettling, especially when I fell asleep and dreamed I was trying to eat hamburgers with a drinking straw.
At the hospital the real
excitement began. Of course, the first thing they wanted to do was put me in a gown that didn’t fit. Maybe the nurses think it’s funny to dress you in a garment that could cause you to be arrested for
indecent exposure just by stepping the wrong way. To keep this from happening, I got into the bed that was provided for me which oddly enough didn’t fit right either. It’s a good thing I was there for knee surgery and not foot surgery, because mine were hanging over the end of the bed and at the mercy of whoever walked by without paying attention.
Soon I was being wheeled
towards the operating room. It was a short trip however, because
before I even got a few meters an argument erupted between the nurse who was pushing me and an orderly who was leaving the room with another patient. It seemed they couldn’t decide who should be pushing who. They stopped and started examining each other’s charts. After one glance at the other patient, my heart started racing. I’m no doctor but I could tell by the position he was in he wasn’t there for knee surgery, his problems were a little further up. And if those charts got mixed up, let’s just say I wouldn’t be sitting pretty for a long time. Thankfully, they resolved their differences and I was on my way.
Being a surgeon is a
demanding job and apparently a hot one because the operating room was a cool -38 degrees. For a few minutes I thought they’d taken a wrong turn and wheeled me into the morgue. They put me on the operating table which felt like a single bed in an igloo. Before I could complain, a nurse covered me in a warm blanket, then gave me an intervenus drip which was a pain killer/ valium combination that made the room spin. I have no doubt you could sell the stuff on the street for big money. For a few minutes I could say whole sentences and only hear them after I’d said them. Wow!
Once the buzz slowed down,
the procedure started which I got to watch on a television. There
was nothing gross about it, to me it looked like someone drilling
into an iceberg. No blood, no gore. Actually it was quite boring
and there weren’t even any commercials. Not to mention they wouldn’t bring me any popcorn. Soon it was over and before I knew it I was back home. “Piece of cake” I told myself. Then my leg unfroze…
All of the things I’d done
to my knee in the past didn’t hurt nearly as much as when the
medication wore off. And as for my prescription of tylenol 3 for the pain, they might as well have given me a bottle of flintstone
vitamins. At one point I even considered hitting my good knee with a hammer to take my mind off of the other one. Fortunately, the pain eventually eased a little and I should be back to my old self in a few weeks… Now there’s a scary thought!