April 30, 2007: It's Show Time!

The day I have both dreaded and looked forward to is finally here. God, I hope I have made the right decision. 'What if...' is not an option now, the tiller is lashed, the sails are set, come Hell or high seas we are bound.

I had started the "bowl" lavage Sunday noon. Four litres of 'GoLytely' over the course of six hours and numerous visits to the head had proven very effective. On a less than musical note, my last 'movement' was 2:30 am. I can't sleep well so I get up at 4:30 or so. Take what may be my last pee in my control and shower and shave. Ironic to say I shaved, since I have a full beard and mustache.

I roust Sally and she finishes her preparation for the day right on time. She doesn't eat yet because I can't. I wonder if she will quit peeing too.

We arrive at the hospital at five minutes before 7 am. I always like to be a little early. We got the closest parking spot in the 'Day Surgery' line and stop at the information desk. Sally gets her visitor pass and I'm on 'the list'. The guards direct us toward the area.

There is no one on the Day Surgery desk yet but directions on the wall instruct us to hit the button and enter. We advance and meet help inside. The 'hostess' escorts us to '3' and gives simple instructions to strip and put on the gown with the opening in back. Sally can have a seat in the chair and I on the gurney. I figure as long as there is a restroom right next to '3' I should avail myself of the facilities. Never pass an opportunity to use the facilities! Beside, I may not be able to for a long while or ever again.

It wasn't long before one of our servers arrives to take a history. She was a lovely lady in the prime of her life lets say. Old enough to have compassion for people at a dicey time in their lives. We covered what medications I am taking now. What does that mean? I was taking those listed when I called for pre-registration last Monday. Since then I have not taken any of those on the list; but, I have started taking Erythromycin and 'Neomycin' antibiotics.

She is stunned that I am not taking any meds for my heart or blood pressure. So I told her the tale of who had told me what not to take and why at each juncture, the surgeons scheduler, the surgeons nurse, the hospital pre-registrar, my primary care physician and the pharmacist. She said that was too confusing and agreed I wouldn't know what to do.

She explained the process we would go through today and that I get prepped, socked and booted. All that before I get cut. Sound too violent to me. I received, at no additional charge, a pair of shorty tube socks with little gripper treads on top and bottom. I don't know if that is so I can't put them on wrong or if it is so I can hang over the curtain rod by my toes. So I tried to put them on wrong and was equally comfortable with the treads running up both SIDES of my feet as I was with them bunching in front of my ankles.

Fortunately we didn't have a lot of traffic past my station, since '3' was pretty well the end of the line. Those gowns are nice for airing out ones business. When she came back to put my boots on she also gave me a blanket. That was the last time anyone could see what I pack. From now on they have to be looking on purpose.

The boots are lower leg wraps that are pumped up about four time a minute. They expand at the ankle and it spirals toward the knee. This forces the blood into the deep veins and prevents blood pooling in the legs causing a Deep Vein Thrombosis. DVT is what killed Bloom, the NBC reporter, in Iraq a couple years ago. A clot can break off and course through your circulatory system to some place that is devastating (like your brain, lung or heat). At first I thought the boots would be annoying. But by the time I came out of surgery they were very nice. I thought she looked very sweet and gave a terrific massage.

Then a nice lady came by and gave me a two bit hair cut. She reminded me of Eartha Kit with a clipper. She lay a pillow case beside me and tuck slightly under. she would run the clippers toward her and softly brush my stomach to that side. She switched to the other side and repeated the process. When she finished she rolled the pillowcases up and to hair and all to the laundry.

My in-laws showed up. Although we told them not to bother, they had to do something to show support. In just minutes it would not be a problem for me cause I'll be out of it all.

Doctor Toth and the surgical nurse came by to talk a bit about meds and history and the procedure I was expecting. We all seemed to be on the same page. The little nurse unlocked my ride and strained to push this overloaded cart toward the OR. She could have used the 100 pounds I could afford to give her. It would have made our masses closer to equal. She just kept saying, "Keep your hands inside the cart, please." It was like riding on a bumper boat. I had the urge to fend off. But to her credit, as close as we'd come, she never touched a wall, cart or piece of equipment.

The OR looks like a storage room! Big piles of junk covered with a sheet. Several of them. Looks like brooms or mops sticking up under the throws. All but the patient cart.

It was long and narrow. It looks about eight feet long and fifteen inches wide. In the middle is a red pad that looks like it is made from sorbothane. You know those gel shoe inserts that are kind of squishy. She wheeled the gurney up beside it and leveled them. "Slide your self over to the table, please. And use your hand to feel the other side. It's narrow and we don't want you to fall off the other side. Then pull your gown out from under yourself.", she said. Let me tell you, I covered that baby. When I pulled out my gown ... DAMN that's colder than a well diggers ass.

Then Dr. Toth came in and leaned over to tell me that they would have to stick me a couple times for the drugs they would administer during surgery but not to worry because I'll be out before that. He starts to look over my arms and is impressed by my right arm and the fine vein there. (here we go again)

I explained, "DON'T touch that one! Every fool falls for that, but it is not worth a shit." Sound familiar?

That's the last thing I remember. I don't recall the surgeons coming in. I don't remember the machines being uncovered. I don't remember them even asking me to count backwards.