so my brother drives down sunday night to see me into surgery. we spend the night trying to fix this stupid computer problem that everyone supposed to know. it was never fixed. i didnt care losing sleep next morning. my last meal before midnight was a huge bowl of berry lucky charms.

since the last time i went into surgery i wasnt conscious, heres what wouldve happened.

my family takes me to the hospital at around 9am. i check into the OR and strip down into a gown. the pre-op nurse gives me directions as i sign my life away. right after, she sets up an IV on my left arm. my brother messes around and starts taking photos of me in my gown. other surgical people come to see where my old stitches are and marks them with a marker so that they wont open up a wrong arm or leg. they were also gonna shave my legs, but i waxed them a week before. they were happy about that. 11:30 comes around and i am wheeled into the OR. KBIG was playing in the room. it was cold and bright and here comes the craziest part, where the anesthesiologist comes and says "heres some oxygen for you." he puts a mask covering my nose and i knew all along that this wasnt oxygen at all. it smelled like bubble gum. nothing happend for a couple minutes and then my eyes started getting sleepy. i wanted to fight it real bad. suddenly they just shut, but i still tried to fight in mentally. with my eyes closed, all i can see was like a TV screen with static, lines going horizontal and vertical, then each layer starting to peel away. at the same time, i heard voices muttering and all of a sudden nothing. after that nothingness, i am awake again getting rolled out of the OR. it was fucking cool.

i wake up to having just soreness on my left good bicep and that was all. no pain in my incisions. i was surprised to see outside that it was night time. what was initially a 3 hour surgery lasted 7 hours. i dont know why, but the surgeon who had been in orthopedics for the past 24 years had never worked on a patient as mangled up as me. althought he seemed confident at first, when the time came, i saw nervousness in his eyes. but all in all, i think he humbled himself after the surgery, because he was relaxed after i was done. hell probably use me as an example in his future war-stories with his colleagues.

i spent the night in a lonely hospital room still attached to an IV machine. compared to my previous stays, this was the worst. nurses sucked, food sucked, and the room smelled. they gave me a bottle to pee in cuz they didnt let me walk yet. both of my hands were numb from the anesthetics. i had to get out quick and the only way was to impress the physical therapist the next day that i was able to be semi-independent. with a shot of demerol and 2 vicodins, i felt like i could do anything. the next morning i started walking already although my legs didnt want me to. the physical therapist put me down to be discharged. the plan worked.

so im back at home looking like a mummy and now the suffering begins. the pain starts to come, i could barely bend my knees, let alone, walk. whenever i do walk, i feel like the stitches would seperate again and tear open a new cut. same with my right bicep. i cant even shower up until all my incisions are healed. most of my time is passed by sleeping and reading mystery novels. i plan to be walking without my cane in 3 days. thats my goal. this is gonna be the fastest recovery ever. i have too many things to do.