I don't like to make a big deal out of things around here, so I didn't say anything before-hand, but last week I went under the knife.
I just love how dramatic that sounds!
UNDER. THE. KNIFE. dun-dun-dunnnnnn.
I hate even mentioning what kind of surgery I had...because it just sounds, I don't know, old lady-ish, or weird. But, if I DON'T mention it--you're all going to think it was--*said in a whisper*--"a feminine procedure."
Okay, so here it is. I had 2 abdominal hernia repairs. "Abdominal hernia" sounds so much better than just plain old "hernia," wouldn't you agree? Regular hernias make me think of man surgery. *Shiver.*
I have had these abdominal hernias since the last time I was big and pregnant--with that little cutie pie in the picture above. She is now 8. And remember--I have BIG babies.
And big babies = making a war zone of your abdomen.
Now, I realize that I might be weird. But, I just love the whole process of surgery! Don't get me wrong--I don't like the pain of surgery. It's just everything else I like.
I love checking into the hospital on the day of surgery, and feeling like everybody is there for ME. I know that sounds really narcissistic, but for a girl who normally tries to stay in the background of things, being the center of caring attention for a day is kind of nice.
(See, I told you I am weird.)
I check in, and the nice retired man volunteer greets me, and tells me my nurse will be right out to get me. Then, a cheerful nurse greets me and escorts me back to my very own space--a comfy electric bed in my own little curtained-off area.
The nurse gives me a nightgown to wear, and then comes in to check on me once I'm lying down in my electric bed. She offers me a drink and something to help me "relax a little"--via an I.V. needle. ("Just a prick," she said. OW! Not relaxing, by the way.) Then she brings me a warmed-up blanket and tucks me up nice and tight into my bed.
A warmed up blanket, people. As in--somebody cooked it in the oven--JUST FOR ME!
Then, all these nice people come in to visit with me! A anesthesiologist comes in to chat with about my drug allergies and my doctor comes in and draws little pictures on my abdomen (okay, lines.) And everybody that comes in asks me if I have questions. That's just so nice to ask my opinion of everything!
I even get to take a little tour of the hospital hallways and elevator as the nurse takes me on a ride--IN MY BED! At one point, in the MAIN foyer of the hospital, I look around to see if I know anyone. I have a small moment of panic as I try to huddle beneath my covers. I'm not sure they'd recognize me, though, in my blue paper shower cap and hospital nightgown.
When we wheel into the surgical suite, I feel like I am on stage. There are huge bright lights above me, and a whole audience dressed in powder blue scrubs. Every single person in the room greets me, and is introduced.
I feel like a surgical rock star!
And seriously--everyone is just so nice and friendly.
One of the last thoughts I have before gently falling asleep is how MANY people are here in the surgical suite--JUST FOR ME! They're all here and being friendly and helpful--for me!
And then I think..."Ooohhhh. That is why I am being charged $12,000 for today."
You people can just call me a celebrity now.
Because last Tuesday, I paid $12,000 for super-star treatment!
And, let me tell you--it was worth every single penny.
(Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration. But, the people WERE really nice.)
