It was very surreal though. I continued to recall blurbs from last year. The discussion with the anesthesiologist of preferring scotch to margaritas. His insistence that I would soon fall asleep, and my subsequent refusal to do so. His frustration and ultimate timidity in giving me doses that exceeded those he normally likes to distribute. My anxious dissipation into ultimate darkness. My cloudy immersion in the recovery unit and the shrouded realization of where I was and why I was there. Recognizing the nursing assistant in the corner who was the first person to know that I was awake who immediately called in the doctors and assistants. Hearing the question, "You are recovering right now. Do you know where you are." The shaking of my head indicating that I did not know. "Do you know why you would be in the hospital or why you would have had surgery?" The second shaking of my head in denial of understanding the situation. "Do you know who you are?" My occipital response of gazing off into the upper left corner of my eyes as if trying to recall my name and who I am. Observing the deeply concerned looks exchanged between attending surgeons and nurses who were immediately instructed to get the primary surgeon. I recalled the slowly cracking smile that stretched painfully across my face as I finally spoke saying, "Hey! April Fools." Watching as the surgeons and nurses angrily sauntered out of the room and hearing that initial nursing assistant hold back her laughter.
I had told my brother Sam before the surgery that if I woke up after the operation and I could still make a joke that my family should know everything was okay. I remember the primary surgeon coming in to perform a quick mental test. If you recall, this is where I was asked to remember those three words: Cat. Apple. Table. I did. My reward: seeing the family members who had been sitting in the lobby of the hospital for endless hours. My mom came in holding back tears and my father came in with a happy smile on his face. I presumed above average news was relayed to them. I remember my brother coming in pretty even-keeled. My Aunt Lucine stayed at the entrance way and was hesitant to come into the room. My family could only stay for a few minutes and I asked them if things had gone well. They said the doctor gave them positive reinforcement that things had gone exceptionally well. They left.
I asked the nursing assistant to make sure that as soon as Katie got to the hospital to make sure that she was allowed to come right in to see me. She promised. And when Katie arrived she came right in along with my brother. Man, Katie looked horrified when she saw me. I don't know if I told her that before this. I told her that she looked horrified when they removed my bandages, but I don't think she knows how she looked when she first saw me post operation. To her credit, she tried to hide it. I was happy to see her. I was ready to be moved out of the recovery room immediately. Finally around seven-ish I was brought into the observation room. I spent the night acting as if nothing had happened and trying to avoid the 1,000 pound gorilla in the room. It was interesting to say the least.
Last night I was driving home around 7:00 p.m. I arrived at my fiancee's house after 8 o'clock. We watched shark-inspired episodes of Mythbusters. We fell asleep on the couch around 9:30. Then I went to bed.
A lot can change from one year to the next. That's the simultaneous beauty and disgust of life. But that's the way things go, so either deal with it or be destined to suffer because of it.
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