You know I recently had a mastectomy. You know I find comedy in almost everything. And you know major surgery is usually done with anesthetic. This, my friends, is the recipe for a very embarrassing cocktail.
When I had my wisdom teeth removed at 19, I had a follow-up visit where all the nurses clustered around to tell me how hilarious I was under anesthetic. This is never good news.
This time I recall just bits and pieces, so I can only imagine the parts I’ve forgotten. Note to self: Never have surgery at that hospital ever again, lest you run into the same surgical team.
Just gaining consciousness after the procedure this time, I noticed a young male nurse fidgeting with the wires and tubes attached to my chest. “Don’t cut the green wire,” I said, “or we’ll all blow up.”
I yammered on and on (this much I remember) and finally, a little worried, said to one nurse, “Am I the most talkative patient you’ve had?”
She just looked at me, then said, “So far.” What—in her entire career? Marvelous.
Soon St. Bob and Nicole were ushered in. The surgery had taken almost five hours, so they had gone to the hospital cafeteria for lunch. I asked them how it was and Nicole said it wasn’t great. “Shocking,” I said. “You do know they have three Michelin stars here.” Well, seriously, this is a hospital-- what did you expect?
In my room I dictated some notes on my phone to ask my surgeon when she came in. But you know how auto-correct is. So when I finally saw her, I scanned my list and saw, “Did you save Nepal?” And, apparently she is a superhero in her spare time, because she definitely saved Nepal.
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