Distraction was the key to managing my pre-surgery jitters when last week I finally got the guts (*cough*) to have my gall bladder removed.
The drugs didn’t come until later.
It was my husband, Fred, who accidentally cheered me up in the waiting room by trying to make a “basket” with my wadded up wet facial tissues. He missed so many times it was like watching a Laurel and Hardy movie. By the time he finally sunk it, a crowd was engaged, Fred was red-faced from bending over and I was snorting.
“Whatever entertains you,” Fred said, embarrassed.
Next, I was kept busy trying to put my sterile gown on all by myself. I was required to ASSEMBLE the gown from scratch, snapping material together to create sleeves and various ties (A – D) threaded through various holes (1-6). The technology was dizzying. Finally “dressed” and on the gurney, some guy came along with an EKG machine and promptly undid everything.
The pre-surgery fun continued with my shin wrap fitting. These wraps inflate and deflate so you don’t get blood clots. The irony is--I’m way more “motionless” and, thus, “blood-clot fertile” at home in front of the TV than I am during a 1 hour operation, but after a few minutes I rather liked the massage feeling my calves were getting. It almost felt like a spa treatment.
I was finally all hooked up to IVs, massaging shin apparatuses in place and draped in my masterpiece snap-together gown. Naturally I had to use the bathroom. I kept the nurses busy readying me for my bathroom trip, which resulted in approximately 2 teaspoons worth or pee. Back to bed, I was hooked up again.
“Do you SERIOUSLY have to go again?” Fred inquired, moments later.
“It’s just the “idea” of “not being able to go”,” I said, pulsing the nurse-button.