The Surgery

The MRI results on my left knee came out and after translating the medical mumbo jumbo to English, my doctor basically says there’s a structural damage to my knee and it will require surgery to fix. He took out his pen, marked three X’s around my knee then explained that these are the locations where he will cut and insert the tubes through. He clicked his pen and casually told me he does this every Mondays and Wednesdays. I was petrified. Like a manager who just found their application went down, the barrage of questions followed: Will I be back to normal? Tubes?! Are you crazy? Why do you need to drill three holes?! When can I walk again? WHAT?! It costs THAT much?! WHAT??!?!? That’s only the professional fee?!?

Bottom line was, the surgery was just a matter of time as there was no realistic alternative. Jaye and I scheduled the earliest schedule available and I remained petrified for the next couple of days.

The day of the surgery came.

8:30 am – I was already wide awake despite sleeping very very late (we watched the breaking news that Bin Laden was killed). I couldn’t eat breakfast or drink milk (doc's orders) and my tummy was growling. I wondered if there was a way for them to tell if I really did eat something 12 hours before the surgery but decided not to risk it. I don’t want the surgeon to page Jaye and tell her “We couldn’t proceed with the surgery because there were traces of KitKat on his knee.”

9:30 am – We took the cab going to the hospital. The driver was tuned in to the news about the Bin Laden story, there were a couple of newspapers in the front seat that had OBL’s face and he looked pissed, really pissed. I gave him an extra dollar tip and we quickly entered the hospital.

10:30 am – After signing a ton of consent papers, the prepping started. They asked me to wear the medical gown and these really cool socks. Nurses and doctors would come in, introduce themselves and state that they are from some department that ends with “logy”. I never remembered them all.

10:45 am – One nurse came in and injected something on my arm. The skin flared up and I quickly asked, “What was that for?”. She told me it was for them to inject an even bigger needle. She unwrapped this syringe with a HUGE long needle and started jabbing me with it. I turned to Jaye who was confused because I was making these weird faces. It was painful.

11:15 am - My anesthesiologist came in and explained that she will put me to sleep. She gave me a series of questions and ended with “Do you need to pee?”. I said no. When she left, I suddenly had to pee. I hate it when that happens.

11:30 am – Surgeon came in and explained to Jaye what he will be doing. He took out a sharpie and signed my knee. He formally stated his name and that “I, will perform surgery to you, Arnold on the marked knee that I have signed.”. I guess this was for legal purposes. I wanted to raise my hand and say “So help me God.”, but I figured it’s not wise to joke with the surgeon before the surgery.

11:40 am – They wheeled me out of the room and into the operating hall where it was suddenly all white. They wheeled me into the operating room, which was huge and brightly lit. There were so many instruments and lights then they asked me to scoot over to the operating table. A couple more nurses introduced themselves then they plugged all sorts of monitoring equipment to my body. They secured my arms then the surgeon started putting something on my leg. They put on a mask on me and asked me to breathe. Then everything went dark...

12:45 pm – A classic “Where am I?” moment. I was no longer in the operating room. There was a machine hooked up to my arm, checking my BP every 5 minutes. A nurse was walking by and I groggily asked “Where’s Jaye?”. She asked “Who’s Jay?”. I said “my wife”. She said “Oh Jay’s a girl? You’re still in recovery. Sleep first.”

Here we go again.

I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t move my leg but I could twiddle my toes which was good. I bent down and saw that my knee was covered with heavy bandages. I did an external limb roll call and I was relieved to confirm that everyone was present including, you know…

1:30 pm – After a vitals check, they wheeled me out of the recovery room and on to another unrestricted recovery room where Jaye was waiting. A nurse came in with a box, opened it and took out a turkey sandwich. Now I have my wifey and a sandwich, things are starting to turn well for a change. After an hour of resting, they declared me fit to go home and they went through the do’s and don’t for the next few days. I told them I had to go to the bathroom and so I hopped out of bed, on to my crutches and started the painful walk to the toilet. Next thing I know, the nurses (and Jaye) were screaming because apparently I forgot that the robe I was wearing came loose and so the recovery room team saw this big white ass staring at them.

“Sorry!” I said.

Finally, they wheeled me out of the hospital and onto a cab. I guess the plan was to get me home ASAP before the effects of the Novocaine wears off. At least the surgery’s now done and will now be followed by weeks of healing and rehab. As I sit on my bed though, I have a cane on one hand, a canister of Vicodin on the other, my leg hurts and I feel like being a jerk. What could possibly go wrong?