Part Four

 Wednesday Feb.1st 6:58am
I had just arrived at the Torrance Memorial Hospital. Oddly enough the plaque that was on the wall had my last name on it. It was titled: "The Wilson Floor". I thought, that has to be a good sign (no pun intended) Later, my name was called and i was asked to get undressed and put on a gown. That God awful, one-slip-of-a-knot-away-from-being-arrested-for-flashing people, kind of gown. As i laid on the gurney (i guess it's called) shortly afterwards, I reflected on the fact that I've never been hospitalized before. Never had surgery. No broken bones. Never needed stitches for anything. Nothing! And now....here I am. Just recently turned 40 on Dec.27th , and about to have my first surgical experience. And my first experience with anesthesia. Woopty fuckin doo!
 So, i meet the anesthetist. He had a good sense of humor. Which, for some reason, seemed..... "fitting". Anyway, he explained that I was going to have the general anesthesia (to knock me out) and the local anesthesia (to numb my lower leg). Next, they're rolling me into the operating room. Funny enough, the last thing i remember was me asking him "So, I'm not going to remember any of this, am I?"

 When I "awake", I'm in the recovery area, with a new splint and wrap around my leg, aaaannnd...... a new pair of tits  (hahaha, just kidding. Just making sure you're reading this all the way through) Any who, the whole experience seemed like it just flew by. I was like "That was it??? We're done already??? Wow...that wasn't bad at all"
 About an hour or so later, i grab my belongings, and my butt is heading home. All before noon. A piece of mofo' cake! The surgeon had already called in a prescription  for me to pick up later. Some good ol' Vicodin. But the way i was feeling at that moment, ......Ha....who the hell needs some Vicodin? Pfff...... puh-leeze. (I know what you're all already thinking) Later, as i am sitting at home, I'm thinking "Wow, ok, so now i just gotta heal. And rest. Tomorrow will be a new day and I'll recover one day at a time. No prob"
 THEN....7:00 pm came around. And apparently the anesthesia got bored and decided to break up the wonderful relationship it shared with my leg. OMG..........PICK UP THE PRESCRIPTION, PICK UP THE GODDAM PRESCRIPTION!!!!
  I was not expecting the pain to appear so quickly. It wasn't even gradual. I mean, shiiiiiit. It was like the anesthesia clocked out its time card at 7:00.  And pain clocked in at 7:01 for the night shift. And went straight to goddam work. I could've sworn the throbbing was audible. Like, I actually heard the throbbing. Daaamn....WHERE'S THAT DAMN VICODIN?
 Soooo, later on that evening, a visit to my local pharmacy was made. And comfort shortly ensued. Sort of. The throbbing was a little muted, but the discomfort of having this damn thing on my leg, while trying to sleep, was a huge pain in the ass. Good ol' Ambient.
 So, come to find out, the nerves in my lower leg area were awakened earlier that evening. But they were loud, aggressive, rude, and didn't give a shit about keeping the peace throughout my body.   
 I finally was able to get to sleep that night. I had to keep my leg elevated on a stack of pillows and sleep that way. A sleep that was littered with repeated painful awakenings throughout the evening and a huge amount of pillow realigning for my foot.

 Yaaayyyy....day 1 post-op.