Checked in at 11:30, waited for about 45 minutes, then a resident doctor came in. He sits with me taking history. He then goes on telling me I don't really need the procedure and I'll probably get to go home. He leaves. 20 minutes later my specialist comes in and stars talking about the surgery. I'm a bit baffled and point out that the other guy just told me I don't need it. My specialist says, "Well he's here to learn and should have only taken your history, not diagnosed you." Alright, a little shocked we start the process to get me up to the OR.
Everything was a little less scary when I was waiting in a bed in my hospital gown. I still think the most painful part was when the guy was unable to get the IV in. Man digging around in my hand was not cool. The nurse then arrived and, not sure if I'm embarrassed or not, used a baby IV on me and had it in to rehydrate. Not eating since 7:00PM the previous night and nothing to drink since midnight. 3:00PM rolling around I was getting a headache.
Suddenly I'm going to the OR. Was nervous, which was lifted by the cute anesthesiologist who talked and joked with me while taking my history. He was shocked at my age to have never been put under before. Rolling me into the OR was frightening, strapping my arms down getting ready. I'm laying looking up and the anesthesiologist's upside down face comes into view. "The secret to good dreams is happy thoughts while you go under," he says. He smiles at me and starts repeating, "Sandy beaches and tequila, sandy beaches and tequila, sandy beaches and tequila..." As he chants this I count back from 10 and start notice it is getting harder to breath, I think, "This is it."
Next thing I know I'm in the recovery room and the nurse if calling my name. I did it! I'm still here! I kind of like this world and am really glad I get to hang around a little bit longer.