Richard had hernia surgery yesterday morning. Boggles my mind the strides surgery has made since the last time they took something I valued out of me and plopped it unceremoniously in a petri jar. Now, you are in and out like fast food. Our instructions were to be at the facility, a downtown Sacramento location about a forty minute commute from his house, at 4:30 a.m. Now, for me waking up early is rarely a struggle. As I’ve mentioned many, many, times sleep is something I haven’t yet mastered, and as of this writing, I don’t see any end in sight for this ongoing struggle. However, perhaps because I knew I HAD to get up, I actually was enjoying a deep sound asleep when the alarm on my phone signaled it was time to get up.
Richard had to drive us in to the appointment, because I have night blindness. We hardly need a half blind blond on the freeway in the wee hours of the morning. Talk about a loose cannon. So, he took the COM and off we went into the night. Arriving at the hospital, a vast sprawling beast comprised of a group of multiple story buildings connected by “bridges”, not unlike a Habitrail for humans. On the way into the parking garage, a machine at the gate spit out a digital ticket which a sign indicated would have to be paid before we were allowed to exit. I tucked that away in my purse, as I’ve been know to misplace such things in the past, and this was not a good time to go rogue.
The garage was pitch black but for lights that turned on here or there as we passed. I found myself glad to have company. Pushing the down button, the elevator went down a floor to the “bridge” and we walked across to the building where we were to check in. An armed guard manned, or womaned in this case, the front desk. It struck me as somewhat humorous. The guard was an older lady, and when we walked up she put down the lovely afghan she was crocheting and asked us our names and business in the building. There was some kind of irony in an older woman with a weapon strapped to her hip, holding a crochet hook and a baby pink ball of yarn. Perhaps it’s just me.
We were given explicit instructions on how to get to the floor where Richard was to check in. Apparently people had gotten lost in the labyrinth prior to our arrival never to be seen again, so printed directions were necessary lest we suffer the same fate. lol. As we were told, we made a hard right and took the elevator marked “N” to the third floor where we exited into a huge open area to find others of our kind already seated, most on their cell phones. 90% of the people obviously having surgery were wearing pajama bottoms. Let’s face it, pajama bottoms have become acceptable attire most anyplace these days, so for surgery they certainly should be the pants of choice. Richard, ever Richard, was wearing jeans, a white tee shirt, and a plaid over shirt. His uniform de jour.
Once we had given our name, we were told to sit until he was called and await further instructions. Aye, aye, Cap’n. In about a half an hour, we were called back into the admitting area. Richard was asked the usual barrage of questions, and given a bracelet with his credentials on it, such as name and birth date. I didn’t realize you got jewelry. I would have signed up myself. We were given a new set of laminated directions to take us further down the road. We took the elevator down two floors. Exiting the elevator, we took a left down an orange hallway where the instructions then said to make a semi-U-turn at the pediatric center and continue for half a corridor down a hall with a blue line before going through automatic doors and making a quick right into the surgery center. I hoped the dogs were on alert. Good Lord.
Inside the surgery waiting room, we sat with familiar faces from the first stop along the way and waited once again to be called. Once taken inside the surgery pre-op area we were directed to a stall with a hospital bed in a long line of similar stalls. For some reason it reminded me of a dairy with the cows all lined up to be milked. My mind, go figure. Richard was told to disrobe to his natural self, and rub his entire body with disinfectant wipes. When clean, he was given a purple “johnny shirt”, and blue socks to put on. He looked a bit like a tall, thin gnome. I waited outside while he got settled. The nurse was terribly efficient, very friendly, and helpful. Richard told her his neck itched from the wipes. Looking at it, she asked if he’d shaved? Yup. Go Richard, so funny. He wasn’t going into surgery unkempt he said in case he didn’t make it. Handing him a wet washcloth she told him to wipe his neck which solved the problem. Men are such interesting beings.
Noting my drooping eyelids, she kindly brought me a cup of hot, and surprisingly good coffee, which I downed with the two packages of graham crackers she brought with it. Tucked under the covers they hooked Richars up to what was called a “Bair Hug”. What looked like a vacuum hose was attached to a female receptor on the blanket. The machine blows hot air over the patient to whatever level the patient turns the dial. Easy peasey. What a great idea. Hospitals are kept cold both to keep germs from multiplying as well as for the life of the equipment. Used to be they got you hot blankets. They were lovely while they were hot, but didn’t stay that way very long. This hugger would be cost and time efficient I would think. Someone was up in the middle of the night in a hospital freezing their behinds off and had an epiphany I would guess.
Richard was wrapped up like a summer sausage when the doctor and the anesthesiologist showed up in that order and gave him pre-surgery instructions so he would know what to expect. According to the doctor, some patients relate the recovery from this particular surgery is like getting over a flu shot. With the laparoscopy now the method of choice rather than a long incision, things go much more quickly. Others, he said, might report some pain for several weeks. Wow. Pretty soon as science marches forward, a sophisticated machine will merely wave a magic wand over the body part and the machine will miraculously perform the repair without any incision. I do want to say if they insist on developing technology to keep us around for longer and longer times, they need to be sure to include keeping us in better shape both physically and mentally so we’re up to the task. I don’t want to be a pruney looking 150 year old in Depends, bent in half looking at the ground with no mental capacity. Quality not quantity for me. Seriously.
The nurse arrived and put a lovely hat over Richard’s hair and they wheeled him off to his fate. I returned to the waiting room to cool my jets with the other “waiters”. I chose a seat next to the wall so if I needed to lean back I could. Oddly, there were benches in the middle of the room with no backs. I can imagine after a couple of hours that would become tedious. Settling in, I pulled out my book and read for a while. It wasn’t long before I dozed off. I hope I didn’t drool or snore, but if I did, thankfully I was unaware of it. Several other people had gone to sleep around the same time so I wasn’t alone.
He was in and out in an hour, plus an hour and a half in recovery. By the time they called me back, I’d eaten my peanut butter and jelly sandwich and chips, and gone upstairs in search of another cup of coffee. One must have sustenance. I browsed through the gift shop and ended up purchasing a pair of elf ears. You never know when those are going to come in handy, right? I really shouldn’t be allowed out of my cage with money in my pocket and time on my hands.
Amazingly, he was told he could drive in 48 hours and go back to life as normal in two weeks. I was most impressed with the whole procedure.
Another hurdle in the race successfully jumped over. Love it. Moving on to the holidays, I have signed off on my Christmas shopping. I do my very best to pick gifts people will not immediately be thinking about returning, but who knows? I did my best. It should not be about the gifts anyhow to my mind. I keep saying every year I will not go through this dog and pony show and every year I find myself doing it again. Truth is, I like to give gifts. It makes me feel good, so I guess I will as long as I can. I read recently about a man who never leaves the house around the holidays unless armed with small bills. During his day he hands them out to every street person he meets and shakes their hands. I like that.
Anyhow, I hope you are bitten by the Christmas spirit. It is a time of joy, and we are so very fortunate here in the U.S. to live where we do with all that is going on in the world.
Happy Thursday!!!!
Good to know the surgery happened and you were all in and out without any problems.
Thanks Gary. Just discovered he picked up COVID, most likely in the hospital. Life is always interesting. Happy Friday to you down under.