Keep Calm and Carry On

Hospital said to arrive at 8:15. I'm an over-achiever who wanted to be freshly showered, Bibled, etc. so my Responsible Adult picked me up at 6am...to drive a mile down the road. 4892 autographs later, I was sitting in pre-op trying and failing to hold it all together. There's the serious eye phobia (I carefully avoid candy aisles during Halloween lest I catch a glimpse of anatomical gummies). Fatal anesthesia errors are sorta kinda some of what I do. Oh, and while the pain of a needle doesn't bother me at all, but feeling of something in my vein is close to unbearable.

I'm an ideal patient for eye surgery, is what I'm trying to say.

I kept it cool and professional the majority of the time. I stood up and shook the hand of every single nurse, tech, and surgeon until world's sweetest nurse asked me to please stay in bed lest I trip and cause more work for her require more surgery. I alternatively cracked "immaculate conception" and "I can start my own religion if I'm with child" jokes to the countless inquiries into my non-existent sex life. Even I grew tired of repeating the same pirate, parrot, and bottle o'rum lines. It was just me, confined to bed, machines clocking every breath, pulse, and heartbeat, and my big scary thoughts.

A lovely nurse pumped my IV full of Valium. Nothing. She turned the volume on my heart monitor way down because all that anxious heart-pounding was setting off alarms that "were disturbing the other patients." A senior nurse soon barked "why hasn't anyone given her Valium?" to which someone called out "um, she was given High Dose 30 minutes ago." Four nurses stopped and stared at me, swimming in a johnny, eyes too alert but hands calmly folded. That heart monitor gave me away.

More drugs. I kept explaining to all these lovely people that, really, I get paid to be a compentent mature adult.

A (very handsome) anesthesia nurse arrived and announced "I'll be your bartender for the day." My Responsible Adult asked for a hit o' that...for herself, which she deserved. Handsome nurse invited me to lie back and relax. I opted to sit up, ramrod straight, thinking "they can't operate on me if I'm awake." Mr. Handsome asked for a bit more Valium and then started The Good Stuff. I think the first shot took a detour, judging by the confused concerned Looks that bounced from my bushy tail to the IV to the bright eyes to the anesthesiologist. Another hit followed, and all I remember was turning to Responsible Adult and giggling "I'm not really a blonde."

I've never been a blonde in my life. I have no idea where that came from.

I woke up at some point and, due to the mass quantities of assorted drugs coursing through my veins, could not safely walk. A nice orderly poured me into the car, Responsible Adult carried me out, and I slept for the next 18 hours.

The pattern of my life has been wake, pain meds, work until my good eye needs a nap, pain meds, sleep, and so on. And with all of this, I marvel at God's hand. How the only thing I know about grandmother turned out to be very important detail. How every appointment was booked next-day due to some last-minute cancellations. How the world's best eye hospital is blocks from my door. How the world's two best occular oncologists fawned over me. How it was less than two weeks from when I discovered a bit of suspicious pigmentation to having it removed by the world's best eye surgeon. And, how even if it was malignant, the entire area was removed. Benign or malignant, I'm looking at thrice a year check-ups. No big deal. And I daresay that the world's best eye surgeon has a handsome single associate who I wouldn't mind seeing thrice a year. That's marvelous.

The recovery is going well. Turns out that living with one eye patched up and one open is not easy. Driving is absolutely out of the question for at least two weeks. I went out in public for the first time tonight, and navigating empty drugstore aisles took an unexpected amount of concentration. There is no dog-walking, stair-climbing, or Merlot-with-dinner-drinking for a while. But otherwise good!

Usefulness of the day: Want fluffy scrambled eggs and omelets? Shake a little baking powder (the canned stuff, not the boxed) and whisk as usual.