Re-Inventing Randy (Part II)

So yeah, the fear factor I mentioned yesterday. I think you’ll be surprised how it figured in.

My FIRST fear was that I’d somehow miss the surgery appointment. Y’know, like, sleep through it. Especially since I don’t set an alarm EVER. Mostly because I wake up all night long anyway (thanks, menopause!!), and on the rare occasion I DO set the alarm, I usually screw it up by switching am for pm or vice versa.

Kathleen arrived from Laguna Beach the night before, which provided a great distraction. We did last-minute grocery shopping, bought giant salads at Gelson’s, and hunkered down to do some serious catching up. Before long, it was time for bed, with a plan to rise around 6 a.m.

As predicted, I woke long before Mark and Brian broadcast their morning hello’s. Bounding out of bed, I took one last shower, donned surgery-appropriate attire (sweats and a zip-up top), and urged Kathleen to hurry so we wouldn’t be late.

Promptly at 6:45 a.m., we entered the surgery center and rang the little bell, announcing our arrival. Seconds later, Surgical Nurse Liz ushered us inside.

No turning back now!

You’d think this would be when fear number two kicked in, but you’d be wrong. I couldn’t have been more relaxed. Kath and I cracked jokes, Liz dolled me up in a hospital gown and fluffy warm blanky, and soon I had an IV in my arm. (My first IV EVER!!!) Then we moved into the recovery room where I climbed onto a bed to await the next phase.

Dr. Schwartz came in minutes later. His opening words? Something like: “So, I see we’re doing a breast augmentation and a tummy tuck this morning, right?”

Bwahahahahahahaaaaa.

Gotta love a surgeon with a sense of humor (although, I DID inform him that the boobs are next. Not that I want them bigger, mind you, just...well...more MANAGEABLE.) He proceeded to draw all over my face with some kind of purple marker, creating guidelines for the actual procedure. Kath got to watch the whole thing, lucky girl.

But alas, it was time to send Kath on her way, and then Liz escorted me to the operating room. Like clockwork, the anesthesiologist (my first EVER anesthesia!!) joined us. And still no fear! (Not even the one where you get put to sleep...forever.) In fact, we quickly discovered we went to the same high school five years apart (yeah, GO CHARGERS), and the last thing I remember was asking if he’d known Mr. Miller which, when you think about it is just the strangest thing, isn't it? I mean, WHO KNEW back then, that as I walked out of American History for the last time, that the NEXT time I mentioned the teacher's name it would be moments before...

....zzzzzzzzz....


...and then the second fear.

See, I DREADED ‘coming to’ g-r-a-d-u-a-l-l-y...where I’d slowly, slowly, realize...WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST DO TO YOURSELF?? And I was afraid of the resulting panic.

But it didn’t happen that way.

Somehow, I went from Sleeping Beauty forever-after slumber to full awareness. (Is this how anesthesia works??) I knew exactly where I was and why, so no panic.

Well, no panic from THAT source.

I have to admit, I felt a tiny bit claustrophobic. Apparently because of the oxygen mask. And when they took it away, I felt a tiny bit breathless. As in, put that thing back on. I remember informing Liz that my dad suffers from sleep apnea--ha--I guess to make sure shew knew that just because I was supposed to breathe, didn’t mean my body was on the same wavelength.

Whatever.

Apparently, I was breathing fine, and waking up all mummified didn’t faze me in the least.

So much for the fear factor....


Coming up next: Frozen pea packs.