Day 1 - Surgery

Surgery was scheduled for 8:30am local time. We woke up at 5am -- those of us who needed to wake up anyway; my strategy was to not bother sleeping in the first place and somehow keep what remained of my jangled nerve intact until we arrived at the hospital.

We pulled into the parking lot at 6:30am and were welcomed by a balmy 30 degrees of freeze. On our short walk to the hospital door, Stacey slipped on a piece of plywood covering a rain gutter, but somehow managed to land in the only position you can land in without causing some sort of injury. We were in the right place, but it would have been the wrong time.

We checked in, and 30 minutes later I was lying on the gurney in the pre-op room with nothing on but a hospital gown, yellow booties, and an IV in my arm that would eventually lead to five bathroom runs inside of two hours.

Once I was prepped, Stacey and Roger were allowed into the room, and by 7:30am we were anxiously talking and mentally preparing for the impending surgery. My very determined psycho-somatic cough was still present.

Around this time, roughly an hour before surgery was to begin, one of the nurses informed us that the surgery was postponed until 10am because Dr. Oro had been in surgery all night. I politely requested that they postpone as long as they needed and let him get as much sleep as possible. The last thing you want to see before being injected with happy juice is your surgeon half-awake with razor cuts from shaving.

We filled the next two hours with chatter, magazine reading, and multiple bathroom breaks. Nerves and a small bladder will do this. Still, the nurses seemed surprised, although Stacey and Roger didn't.

At around 9:30am, the anesthesiologist stopped by and explained his role in the operation. A few minutes later Dr. Oro came by and stepped us through the procedure in detail. I signed the consent form, making it official. Neither of them seemed concerned about the psycho-somatic cough, which seemed obvious to everyone but me. Okay okay, I get it.

It was time to go, and the anesthesiologist started the flow of happy juice. I could tell Stacey was worried (tears are hard to hide) but she put on a brave face for my benefit. I remember thanking Roger for coming out, and telling them to drive safe.

Next thing I knew, I was waking up in a fog and saying "I feel nauseous, I have a pounding headache... I feel nauseous, I have a pounding headache...." Whatever they gave me did the trick because I no longer felt nauseous or had a pounding headache.

The rest of the day is pretty foggy, but at some point I was brought into the ICU room (for all I know I was already there), and I have brief images of different nurses and/or doctors asking me questions and attending to me. The ICU team did an excellent job keeping my nausea and pain under control, and at this point all signs were pointing to a successful operation.

Coming up Next: Day 2 - The ICU