It all started out normally. I woke up at 5:15 a.m., turned off security, and let the dogs out. Yes. It WAS me who let the dogs out.
And I did all my morning routines. Empty dishwasher, make coffee, feed dogs, clean up after dogs, check email, read and meditate/pray.
Oh no. But something was missing. No coffee. At least, not a drop down my throat. I had been NPO since midnight. No big deal really. Shower, dress, and out the door just after seven on my way to surgery. Outpatient surgery.
From the moment I walked into the hospital door, at Reid Memorial, in Richmond, IN, the people were great. Every single person I encountered on their staff was kind, accommodating, and caring. It truly meant the world to me.
The next thing I know, I am getting an EKG, a shave, and the old IV. It is the closest I’ve ever been…. to getting into the Ivy League. Except when I had poison Ivy. That was sort of in the running too.
Anyway… as they rolled me down the hall on the gurney, I sang out loud… “There she goes… there goes Speed Racer… she’s a demon on wheels.” I surmised that they would get the ball rolling much quicker… just to get me to quit singing.
It worked. The Oxygen mask went over my face, sensors taped to my body, I heard somebody say I might feel like the medicine is burning going in… just relax … and then “Good Night Nurse.”
Now… the coming back around was really something else. I don’t want to talk about it here, because it feels… …. well…. like I shouldn’t.
I will say it normally takes people about 30 minutes to come around. They said I was out for an hour and a half. I was busy.
All went well. As it turns out… it was a GIRL. You see.. I had a HER-nia. A boy would have been like…. a HIS-terectomy. Today… I have been in bed, mostly. I’ve done a few “this and that’s” around the house. But not too much for very long.
I have to tell you… this is very difficult for the Polly. And prior to the surgery, I told myself there would little to no post-op pain. Well hell. I got THAT one wrong.
At any rate, all is quiet on the Western Front. Okay, not really. There is a mean wind blowing from the west today. So… it isn’t quiet at all. Gusty. Like Elpheba might be coming to town. On her broom. She’s green. I feel green. We could invite Kermit, who is also green…. and we could have a party.
As long as nobody croaks.
The quieter you become, the more you can hear. – Unknown
Take a deep breath, get present in the moment and ask yourself, what is important this very second. – Greg McKeown