I can believe how attached to my computer I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve gotten.\u00c2 I must have been born with a keyboard and mouse attached to my hands.\u00c2 How does one get so attached?<\/p>\n
It isn’t the computer itself i’m attached to, but the internet.<\/p>\n
Here is the brief story of my past week of hell.<\/p>\n
Monday i go to the doctor for my pre-operative appointment.\u00c2 All goes well, but i begin to get a bit nervous about the whole ordeal.\u00c2 I go into work after taking a half of a day and tie up loose ends.\u00c2 I leave roughly 6:45.\u00c2 I was a bit disappointed with that little tid-bit, but i didn’t want anything important not necessarily done before leaving.\u00c2 So all is as clean as it will be, i still have things that could be done (like attempting to trace down addresses that are outdated of establishments) but yet again nothing relevant.<\/p>\n
Tuesday I go to the surgery early.\u00c2 Cab is not here five minutes after 6:00 (which was it’s scheduled time of arrival).\u00c2 I call doctor’s office and is forwarded to an answering center which has no clue what cab service the doctor uses.\u00c2 They can’t assist, they suggest waiting till thirty minutes before my surgery is scheduled to begin and call her back and she will inform the surgeon.\u00c2 Meanwhile for twenty four minutes, I have two dominant fears. First, that the surgery is postponed and I will need to find another way to take time off.\u00c2 Second, that they surgery goes on, at a later time and the doctor “rushes” through the procedure.<\/p>\n
6:30 and I call the doctor’s office again.\u00c2 “The car service isn’t here yet, could you call the doctor and find…” Car goes screaming by our street slams on the brakes and “slips it into” reverse. “I think the service just got here.”\u00c2 She actually makes the car hit 45 on our little dead end street before making it hit 0 again in front of our house.\u00c2 I get in quickly pissed off.\u00c2 She backs out and takes off.\u00c2 Speeding.\u00c2 We get to Surgicare 5 minutes before surgery is supposed to occur.\u00c2 I’m sick to my stomach about to vomit, but I haven’t really eaten anything (as dictated) so I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m forced to realize all that would be released is acid.\u00c2 I go to the desk and find out that with all my \u00c2 concern regarding the outcome of the surgery, \u00c2 I neglected to fill out the required paperwork before coming the surgical center.\u00c2 So Mary assists in filling out most of the work while I go to the bathroom and splash water on my face.<\/p>\n
A phrase being repeated over and over in my head, a mantra if you will.\u00c2 “This is a necessary evil, we must destroy something to make it better…..”\u00c2 You see a shot is a necessary evil because is circumvents negative possible occurrences.\u00c2 This, is the same. \u00c2 Of course this doesn’t help me mentally face the fact that I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m about to have a knife slice my leg open.\u00c2 Sure sure, I know I won’t die, but I just don’t want to be invalid also.\u00c2 Bed ridden if you will.\u00c2 permanently crippled because of a “miscalculation”.\u00c2 Irrational, but poignant fears.<\/p>\n
So I get pulled into the back of the hospital and sat in a small room.\u00c2 A woman, profession: pre-operative nurse, is questioning me regarding the surgery.\u00c2 An IV needle pieces my arm, and a middle-aged man, profession: surgical assistant, asks me which leg we are operating on.\u00c2 “Left leg I say.” he nods.\u00c2 “I’m going to the nursing assistant in charge of the surgery”\u00c2 My doctor comes out and we talk about the procedure, he introduces me to the “partner” for the practice.<\/p>\n
Newsflash: apparently the partner\/associate business structure exists outside the legal profession.\u00c2 I was not aware of this myself.\u00c2 SO my doctor will be assisting the partner in the operation.\u00c2 \u00c2 The partner will be performing the operation.\u00c2 For as much research as I do in other people’s medical files, you’d think I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d have asked that question.<\/p>\n
So the surgeons vanish and the nurse’s assistant comes back and looks at some paperwork.\u00c2 An older man roughly 60ish, profession: the anesthesiologist, walks up to me and asks me which foot is going to be operated on, I say “left”.\u00c2 He asks if I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve ever been put out.\u00c2 I say yes.\u00c2 I told him about the time I had my wisdom teeth taken out.\u00c2 I was told they had to introduce a lot more anesthetic into my body due to my “resistance”.\u00c2 He informs me that that shouldn’t be the case here.\u00c2 I smiles slightly.\u00c2 I inform him that I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d like to ask him a few questions after the operation if possible.\u00c2 He says that patients usually do.\u00c2 Like a rabbit in a forest he vanishes, and the tress begin to crowd around me. Nurses going left and right.\u00c2 Did I mention there are four patients in this room?\u00c2 I nervously stop a nurse who is fiddling with my iv and ask her, “we aren’t having the surgery out here right?\u00c2 I mean there is hardly any room.”\u00c2 she smiles, “of course not, there is an operating table in the back.\u00c2 We will have you walk back there when it is time.”<\/p>\n
The male surgical assistant comes by again, and asks me again which foot will be operated on, and I say “left”.\u00c2 He stops looking at some papers and says “Left?”\u00c2 As though I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m misleading him.\u00c2 As though at this moment the most pressing point of information in my mind is that I should incorrectly inform him of the leg in which my operation occurs.\u00c2 Something clicks in my head.<\/p>\n
Genetics and personal growth is thrown out the window.\u00c2 My environmental tutelage begins churning.\u00c2 Rationality is ignored and a diatribe begins in my head.\u00c2 A discourse behind all the reasons why this individual shouldn’t be in the position he is in.\u00c2 I’m summing the young man up. His age, race, potential failures in education, probable inbred heritage, religious slurs, political summations, and then I notice he is gone.\u00c2 I was careful though to watch his body language when I choose to clearly and concisely detail why I knew it was my left and not my right leg.\u00c2 He didn’t smile he hinted at no possible enjoyment regarding this misdirection.\u00c2 In short, I saw no evidence it was a joke on his own part.\u00c2 I could only hope.<\/p>\n
And then a young nurse comes in grabs my IV and tells me we are going to surgery.\u00c2 I smile and stand up thinking a thousand different things.\u00c2 I lay down on what appears to be the kind of table they strap inmates down and inject lethal doses of … I watch as my arms are strapped down out on my sides in prisoner form, but in the Christ position.\u00c2 I smile thinking about how Mary teased me in the beginning of our relationship by calling me Jesus.\u00c2 I chide with myself about how strong the “need” for a god can be.\u00c2 I ignore him as he tightens the straps on my arms and I ignore how rough he is with my IV.\u00c2 He rips tape off like a war surgeon.\u00c2 I think he may have been trained in war. I ignore how he appears to be fighting the IV itself as he jabs the needle deep and the anesthesia begins pulsing in.\u00c2 Old fart I think.\u00c2 I don’t feel anything.\u00c2 It takes time I think.\u00c2 I turn to the anesthesiologists and say “when I wake up, can you remind me that I still didn’t believe in god up until the end?”.. I don’t register a response, but it is a good thing he already measured the anesthesia out… And as far as I can tell I look down and see the surgical assistant shaving my foot.\u00c2 My head hits the back of the table roughly.\u00c2 Didn’t Christ have someone wash his foot? Static and then black. It would be nice to say that that was my last thought before the dark.\u00c2 But there were more thoughts, purely inconsequential and largely broken.\u00c2 Some were random.\u00c2 I know I thought about bikes for some reason.\u00c2 \u00c2 I thought a lot of riding my bike.\u00c2 I remember thinking of mosquitoes.\u00c2 No idea where that came from.<\/p>\n
I woke\u00c2 up later and at the first thought of consciousness I begin asking questions.\u00c2 the Anesthesiologist is talking me awake and then he vanishes.\u00c2 I realize now he failed in my personal request.\u00c2 The nurse begins escorting me out.\u00c2 I am asking everyone questions.\u00c2 How long was I out?\u00c2 How did it go?\u00c2 How was I as a patient?\u00c2 did it take longer then normal to knock me out?\u00c2 \u00c2 The nurse turned and said this, “You talked a lot while you were out.\u00c2 Asked a lot of questions.\u00c2 I was concerned but the doctors weren’t.\u00c2 Want something to drink? ” and that was the last I saw of the surgical team before I met Mary and left the Surgicare center.<\/p>\n
What the hell did she mean I asked a lot of questions?\u00c2 What were they?\u00c2 she didn’t tell me.\u00c2 I asked the doctor last Saturday, and he couldn’t remember exactly, which I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m very pleased to hear.\u00c2 He had more important things to do then pay attention to my rambling.\u00c2 WHAT THE HELL DID I ASK!?\u00c2 what did I talk about.\u00c2 Why didn’t she tell me more?\u00c2 was it a stock statement?\u00c2 Give someone fear that they have a demon spawned inquisitioner inside them that is only let out when the consciousness is stripped out?<\/p>\n
No idea.\u00c2 Ok Mary went to sleep.\u00c2 I have more of my week to tell you.\u00c2 That was the most interesting part though.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I can believe how attached to my computer I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve gotten.\u00c2 I must have been born with a keyboard and mouse attached to my hands.\u00c2 How does one get so attached? It isn’t the computer itself i’m attached to, but the internet. Here is the brief story of my past week of hell. Monday i go […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-435","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-entries"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/happypoet.com\/arglor\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/435","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/happypoet.com\/arglor\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/happypoet.com\/arglor\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/happypoet.com\/arglor\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/happypoet.com\/arglor\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=435"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/happypoet.com\/arglor\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/435\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/happypoet.com\/arglor\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=435"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/happypoet.com\/arglor\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=435"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/happypoet.com\/arglor\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=435"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}