Last Wednesday, I entered Houston's Methodist Hospital for some routine laparoscopic surgery. "It will be such a quick recovery!" I heard. "Just a few small incisions!" I heard.
You know what I didn't hear? "You will have gas pains in your chest, shoulder, and rib cage that won't go away until you fart the gas volume equivalent of a mature African elephant." That's what I didn't hear.
Yes, friends, the worst part of my mostly easy recovery has been the strange gas pains that have settled in my shoulders. I'm told there is a sound scientific reason for this, but part of me thinks the flamboyantly fabulous OR nurse (Kevin) just did it as a prank.
Not really. Everyone at Methodist, from my wonderful surgeon to the anesthesia team, to the floor nurse and techs, to the food services and transportation people, were delightful, more than competent, and genuinely interested in my well-being. I had a private room that rivaled those of a nice hotel. My in-room TV had TBS, TNT, Comedy Central, Bravo, and E!. It couldn't have been nicer.
That being said, a story...
My overnight technical aide (takes vitals, etc.) was a sweet Russian lady, who kept going on about my beautiful eyes. It really gave me a nice little boost. As I was leaving, she said, "Okay, pretty lady, when you go in to get your hair colored, ask for a lighter color to set off your eyes." I said, "Oh, I don't have my hair colored." She smiled and said, "You should." Bless her heart.
It is now 6 days after surgery and I am doing great. I'm still in some discomfort (come on, shoulder farts!) but nothing awful. I'm sleeping well at night and walked over a mile today. Very soon I should be a healthy, normal 30-something mom, able to keep up with my kids, teach school, cook dinner, perform my church calling, and play three different games on Facebook.
Life is good.
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