Friday, March 5, 2010

Pre-Op Hysteria


If you don't know already, I'm a big baby. My hip, the right one, has been giving me all kinds of trouble since Feb. 1, 2009. I'm like most former athletes. I kept saying, "the pain will go away". It hasn't. Still, I continued to expect a miracle. "Maybe, I tell myself, someone will have heard of my plight and drop off some water from Lourdes. The well must have dried up.
Next Monday I will have a total hip replacement. It's being done by the group who invented the process. My doctor asked if I minded if some doctors from Europe came to watch him do his thing. This is good! Now, if he had asked me if it was okay if he did the surgery in an alley behind the bakery-----you get the picture. I read online that over 250,000 hip replacements were performed last year. That's a lot. Most of them were done on guys and gals from the immediate "check-out generation. This makes no difference to me. I only hope I don't cry. The thought of getting cut open makes me cringe. The last time someone put a scapel to my skin was in 1966. The doc took some cartilage away from my knee. Today, that operation takes thirty minutes and they send you home. In '66 I was flat on my back for three weeks; couldn't leave the hospital until I could lift my leg off the bed. Things change. In those days we were allowed to smoke cigs in our room----and I did. " At the time, I recall my surgeon, Dr. Huey, telling me; "Young man, when you turn 60 or so this knee and your hip are going to give you some trouble". I also remember me thinking, "Doc, you're so stupid. Nobody turns 60".
Two of my buddies have had my doctor do their hips and both are having fun. They're playing golf and jumping off cliffs--from trampolines. My plan is to think the very,very worst things possible before I go into the operating room. Then, after it's all over it might not be so bad. I'll convince myself that after Dr. Berend makes the incision he'll say, "As long as we're here, we might as well amputate both arms and legs. Then we'll do a sexual reorientation".
This would be followed by, "Hey, nurses, just for the fun of it let's cut off his ear lobes". Could it possibly get any worse than this? Nah! There are two reasons for my mindset: I don't like to cry and I'm a big baby.
P.S. Thanks to Doudsie, Curt and Craig for tolerating my nonsense

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