Preaching to the choir

Surgery on Friday went well. I am now bionic with 2 plates and 5 screws. My wrists are so unnaturally small, I'm having a hard time understanding where exactly all that titanium fits.

Though I was sleepy the rest of Friday, I was never foggy. I remember everything from the first moment I woke up only about an hour and a half after being put under. I also remember the conversation in the o.r. Before I was knocked out. It was about the death penalty, of course. I spent my last few moments before surgery trying to convince one of my scrub techs to oppose the death penalty. I did have help in the form of another scrub tech who noted that their job was quite similar to mine: we are to keep the person in front of us alive, regardless of what they've done before getting to us.

While I was in surgery, my sweet friend mowed my yard. She returned to the surgical center in time to greet me when I woke up. She got my prescriptions, washed my dishes, took care of my dog while I slept, etc. Another set of friends took over for the evening shift before sweet friend returned to spend the night. In the morning, she washed my hair and helped me get dressed for the noon wedding I was attending.

I had a lovely time at the wedding, especially since everyone was so solicitous of my needs. After a brief nap at home, I moved on to a slumber party where once again sweet friend would be in charge of my care. I ate a lot, drank just a little, and popped many, many pain pills.

But today, I am finally feeling like someone recovering from surgery. I did change this morning, from one set of pajamas to another. And I did watch most of the Royals game. (sweep of the Twins! Woot!) But for most of the day, I have been asleep on the couch. Perhaps I should have done a little more of that yesterday as well.

Or perhaps I just don't need that much rest. I am bionic now, after all.

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