Witness below, an email I received from him today regarding his operation (lightly edited to accomodate his morphine-induced grammar):
Howdy folks
Last Thursday 2/23/06 I went into the hospital for a minor bit of surgery. Apparently that pain in my gut that kept me from winter feast that I thought was my gallbladder was the same said lil bastard.
My Thursday started with a wonderful trip to the day surgery check in where I was presented with a male nurse that was throwing off an Artos 2.0 vibe. Grrr... dresses are almost too short boys nearly hangin' in the breeze. The lil fruit tried to get me hooked up with an IV twice in my left wrist and elbow:
"The vein is rolling away from me."
"Uh huh ok"
"Did that hurt you?"
"No, you're begining to piss me off."
(I was trying to refocuse myself on the ceiling while he was rooting around in my arm for the vein - killing him here would serve no purpose, the ER is too close). Finally another nurse came over and I drank a couple quarts and she set me up for an IV. Then it was on to that oh so familiar game of "hurry up and wait' as I lay there for a couple hours till my scheduled time in surgery. No better way of killing time than laying on a gurney upolstered in the finest hide of the wild nauga in a short dress feeling like your gonna slide off onto the floor every ten minutes and having to listen to your father tell your mother "will ya leave him alone." Luckily, a cousin of my father works at the hospital as a nurse so she stopped by to chat (great, keep mom distracted).
"The vein is rolling away from me."
"Uh huh ok"
"Did that hurt you?"
"No, you're begining to piss me off."
(I was trying to refocuse myself on the ceiling while he was rooting around in my arm for the vein - killing him here would serve no purpose, the ER is too close). Finally another nurse came over and I drank a couple quarts and she set me up for an IV. Then it was on to that oh so familiar game of "hurry up and wait' as I lay there for a couple hours till my scheduled time in surgery. No better way of killing time than laying on a gurney upolstered in the finest hide of the wild nauga in a short dress feeling like your gonna slide off onto the floor every ten minutes and having to listen to your father tell your mother "will ya leave him alone." Luckily, a cousin of my father works at the hospital as a nurse so she stopped by to chat (great, keep mom distracted).
They only sent one poor orderly to cart my ass up to surgery; apparently the architect who designed Norwood hospital thought it would be cool that the only way to get from the elevators to Pre Op would be a long semi-gradual ramp to push the gurnies up, while the patient gets to watch unobservant orderlies chase large containers down the ramp in the opposite direction.
Ahh... Pre Op, the wonderful land of more stupid questions and annoying room mates (from what I could hear this one could definatly been one of my parents clients
(they worked with mentaly handicapped adults). The discussion with the anasthesiologist was interesting:
"Have you ever uses cocaine or marajuana?"
"no. YES"
"Do you drink excessivly?"
"no, YES"
Ya see where this was going.
(they worked with mentaly handicapped adults). The discussion with the anasthesiologist was interesting:
"Have you ever uses cocaine or marajuana?"
"no. YES"
"Do you drink excessivly?"
"no, YES"
Ya see where this was going.
What ever they gave me worked like a charm because one second I was chatting with the surgical crew and the next I was waking up in a darkened section of Recovery. Came conscious during a technicolor World of Warcraft troll dream, had to check myself form telling the nurse "ay mon, da spirits not be taking me yet mon." After doing a brief systems check (that was some damn good shit cause only one eye's working right right now), they let my dad come in and he told me I had made the doctor earn his money that day. Apparently it wasn't as simple as me just having a few gall stones but the gallbladder had become necrotic, and begun to get gangrenous around the back where it attaches to the liver. My body in order to protect itself had coated the whole mess in a thick layer of fat which the surgeon had to cut away before they bagged the gallbladder and dragged it out thru my belly button. He told me that it was usually like bagging up and pulling out a sack of pennies but mine was like a hard rubber ball - might explain some of the muscular discomfort I be havin in me gut. He used a cauterization method to do all the cutting so I am left with holes in my gut. Looks like I got shot in my right side of my gut and took one in the belly button and another 6 inches above it. They decided to keep me overnight. Let me tell you nothing will motivate you more to get up to piss in a bucket than to have your roommate get a catheter put in. Found out mophine is ok but I react differently to it: kills the pain but perks me right up.
Parents are wonderful at times. Around mid day I called them and told them I was ready to go home (usually the hint "hey you might want to get your butt in gear so you can pick me up from here" would be sufficient... one would think). Ok, I'm dressed, been sitting here for about an hour, hey here comes my lunch. Oh jello, meh... where are they?
"Hi mom I am ready to go."
"Oh, ok your father and I are just getting done with our coffee."
"Grrr....ow ow sore muscles calm down, calm down."
"Hi mom I am ready to go."
"Oh, ok your father and I are just getting done with our coffee."
"Grrr....ow ow sore muscles calm down, calm down."
So I have been home for a few days getting back on solid food, and having relitivly pain free days. No longer hurts to get up. A course, Kim almost killed me with her email attchment. That be some funny shit. Heh, tard herder. Yup been there. My Doc's orders are play it by ear and expiriment to figure out what you can eat... grrr gettin sick of carrot soup. So I don't know if I'll be able to get to Bob's. Would like to hear about winter feast.
Bona na croin
Eric
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