I was a wreck as soon as I woke up the day of the surgery. I could feel that danged sciatic nerve in my left hip seizing me. This has seized up on me before usually because of stress, usually after we've moved again and I have to unpack tons of boxes and figure out where to put them all. This morning, I could barely walk. We didn't have to be there till 10:30 so I sat at my computer hoping the hip would loosen up. It didn't. I hobbled to the bedroom to get dressed and I hobbled out to the car. As soon as we pulled up in front of the hospital, I saw a large wheelchair sitting out there with the valets. I knew I had to have it. As I opened the door, I asked the valet if I could use that chair. "Sure," he said and brought it over to me. He also helped me get out of the car, into the chair, and wheeled me inside while Bill parked the car.

Pre-reigistered patients have to stop at the big round front desk. There they told me I had to stop at the lab, which was right next door, to get some blood drawn and then I could go back to the surgery waiting room and check in. While waiting to be called and wondering if I'd get through in time, I read the papers I was holding that the registration desk had given me. Among the information on the papers, I read that I was to be put on a Big Boy bed since I was of sizable weight. That made me laugh.

Three needle sticks later, Bill pushed me back to surgery center. The room was full and people were coming and going at regular intervals. The lady at the desk took my papers and then she disappeared for minutes at a time only to reappear, call someone else's name and disappear again for even longer minutes. Finally, when someone came out the door beside me I got their attention and told them I was supposed to be in surgery at noon and it was nearly 11:30. That got some action and only a few minutes later I was taken back to the staging room, given a gown to change into, and told to lie down on the bed. I explained to them my hip problem so they'd know why I was limping and slow as molasses. I was given some privacy while I put on the gown. Moments later, four people in dark blue scrubs came in, one of them being my anesthesiologist. He said hello and said I'd be taken care of just fine, then left. One lady stood at the foot of the bed asking me all sorts of questions that she notated on the papers in front of her, one woman sat down at my right side and proceeded to find the right vein to put the IV in. The other person--a man--said he would be assisting the doctor in the operating room. I liked him for some reason.

Questions were being fired at me but I was having trouble concentrating as I felt pricks on my arm. I heard the lady on my right saying she was having trouble getting the IV going. She tried again. It wasn't hurting because she had given me a little stick of lidocaine but I was getting apprehensive. It was no wonder they couldn't find my veins. I had had no liquids since midnight and my veins can be hard to find for some. Then I heard her say that that one didn't work so she was going to try up higher on my arm. Next thing I knew I was feeling another little pinprick as some more lidocaine was administered. I hated not seeing what she was doing. She tried again up at my elbow and still didn't have any luck. The male nurse had moved over behind her and was watching the nonprogress. He said to let him give it a try. It didn't take much longer before I finally had a working IV in my arm, working but they weren't sure how viable it would. Later when I awoke, I found a second IV had been stuck in my hand while I was asleep. I was told that it was in case the first one stopped working. So, I got to lie around with two IV's sticking in me for a whole day.

The surgeon came in to put a big black 'X' on my left shoulder. I told him that wasn't necessary since I had already marked my boob. I lowered the collar and showed him the 'Bye Bye' I had written in permanent marker on my left breast. He smiled, shook his head, looked at me, patted me on the shoulder, and then left. I don't think surgeons actually say a whole lot to their patients. That's the feeling I got. But I liked him. He was the same doctor that operated on my friend Mary when she had to have a partial hysterectomy and she just loved him. She said the nurses were all telling her what a great doctor he was. He's from Brazil and has been a naturalized citizen since 1972. I thought he had a nice compassionate face even if he didn't talk that much with me. Then, suddenly it seemed, everyone was done with me and something got pushed in the IV that made my head feel lighter and they pushed the bed down the hallway to the operating room.

The operating room looked huge from what I could see from my horizontal and half drowsy postion. As usual, it is a bit colder than the other rooms. They positioned me beside the small operating table and I said, "I've gotta move over there, right? That could be a problem since I've got this hip thing going." No problem, they said, we'll call some extra people in. The extra people came in and they told me to let them do all the work. They rolled me to one side and put a slider thing under my back, rolled me back down, went heave ho, and slid me over. I told them I felt sorry for them having to strain themselves like that but they kept saying, "No, not a problem. We do this all the time." They were very cheery about it all. And next thing I knew I knew nothing.

And then I was waking up in the recovery room and gasping for air. A new male nurse put a mask over my face and told me to breathe deeply. When I breathed I felt like I was suffocating but he kept telling me to take deep breaths. And I did. It only took a few more breaths till things were under control but I did not like that feeling at all. The next really annoying sensation I noticed was how dry my nose was from the oxygen tube in my nose. My nose was horribly dry and it hurt. Later on in my room, the nurse brought me some lotion to put up in my nose to rehydrate it. For some reason, Bill didn't get to come back and see me. And then they were taking me up to my room where they said I'd be able to see my husband. I was surprised when they wheeled me into a private room but glad.

I didn't feel too bad, much to my surprise. That last shot of a narcotic they gave me before I went upstairs was helping. That was the last narcotic I took while in the hospital which also surprised me. The only thing I needed was Toradol which was administered every six hours whether I wanted it or not. That worked really well for me. Oops, I forgot. I did take on Vicodin pill as I left the hospital to help with the jerky ride home. I'm not going into detail about the hospital stay, which was just for one day. Anyone who's been in the hosptial knows how it is. Soon as you get to sleep, someone comes in to pester you with something usually to take your vital signs or to push something else into your IV. I liked the new food system they had. You got a menu that stayed with you and it was full of a good variety of choices to make. You looked it over and then called down to the food service to give them your order. Twenty to forty minutes later, they delivered the food to your room. They'd deliver it at any time you wanted between 7 a.m. and 10 p.m. That was pretty cool.

The flowers started pouring in. At the hospital, I received one vase of yellow and purple flowers from Bill's boss and two co-workers in his department. When I got home, I was greeted at the door by Amy who handed me a vase full of red and yellow flowers. Back on the dining room table were two vases of flowers--one was a big vase full of yellow roses and daisies from one of the women in the drum group and the other from the drum group as a whole. My son Kip came down from Columbus a few hours after I got home and carried planted yellow tulips in for me. Those were most pretty. A couple of days later, a basket of plants with three yellow carnations and a yellow bow was delivered from someone I know at Amy's UU church. The next day, Pam and Mike who lead the arthritis swim class dropped off one red rose and some snack cakes on the porch. I had failed to hear them knocking. Bill gave me a bag that came from one of the women in his department. She had packed a red basket full of goodies, the most interesting item being a China teacup. I was intrigued by that since I had thought just the other day how elegant it would be to have tea in a pretty porcelain cup even though I really don't like tea. I had watched a TV show called Everyday Italian and Giada had prepared a fancy tea for her mother and sister.

Then came a small clear, square glass vase with an assortment of posies in it and a stuffed teddy bear attached to the side. The card said it was from my family at Mel's Playhouse which is The Sims' group I belong to. I thought it was from the mods but later when I thanked Mel for it she said it wasn't from them. The last bit of beauty to report was the potted orchid that Audrey and Bill Hilsmier brought over yesterday. Bill is the local rug guru. He and my Bill have become friends over the years because he has taken nearly all of the computer classes that my Bill has taught at the library. We have had them over for dinner a time or two. They are old enough to be our parents and despite the numerous hospital forays they've had in the last year or two they are still pretty lively and active.