Surgery...

...is all over with and I am still alive and kicking. In the hospital at 0700, in the operating room about 8:58 (my doctor was 58 minutes late supposedly due to meetings during which he told me the other doctors liked to hear themselves while he just sat there and sipped coffee (while I waited for him of course). Right after that, as he was writing down a synopsis of what would be the procedure, saying it out loud as he did so, he said he would be removing a cyst from the left side of my neck instead of right side. I was about to correct him but he was then immediately questioned by the male nurse. I had already told the nurse it was on the right side (which was right). I sort of figured the doc should have have had more coffee at that meeting, or figured maybe he ought to have had a better night's sleep at a Holiday Inn. In my experience (3 other surgeries by him) he is a good doctor. As is always the case though, even a good doctor can goof but you can bet I am extremely happy they did not wind up cutting up both sides of my neck. Then again, I have to wonder if he was goofing around because he has a great sense of humor but he was so straight faced and seemed genuinely surprised by his apparent mistake that I think it really was just that - a mistake. Anyway, it was caught right away and corrected. The doc soon marked off the correct area with a purple magic marker and they took me to the operating room, gave me a shot of a sedative, had me lay down on the table - but first I asked them if the newspaper laying on it was for me to read and they moved it (how sterile). After that I remember about 5 seconds and remember no more until just about 1 hour after I got to the first recovery room. I was awake when I got there according to a nurse and told her I would need a few pillows under my head, as per doctor's orders, but I have no memory of that - she told me about it later.

Then wide awake at about 1050 and I asked some questions. Surgery was probably about 45 minutes to 55 minutes long. The surgery was done on the right side (whew). Soon after that I was off to the second recovery room. The doc saw me there and set me up for an exam on this coming Tuesday. here I got some juice, some water, some jello (what would a hospital be without jello) more water, hit the head, had a headache (no I did not hit my head and then get a headache), had a sore throat, had a bit of pain in the neck, WAS ASKED IF I WANTED A PAIN KILLER TO WHICH I PROMPTLY SAID YES NOT WANTING THE THEN VERY BEARABLE PAIN TO GET WORSE (HEAD IT OFF AT THE PASS SORT OF A THING), got a couple of Percocet, and started to feel amazingly good in about a half hour after the second one. Sill feel the edge cutting effects of the Percocet even though I took one of the pills at about 1130 and another at about 1245. Good stuff, wish I had more in case the pain returns but got a scrip for Vicodin instead. Oh well, I will have to settle for that even though I do not like it and it does not work as well. I suppose it will work well enough with some whiskey (only kidding).

I am hopeful they did a good job inside and got it all out so that it does not return. I am also hopeful that the biopsy will come out negative or benign for any really nasty stuff, as it is expected to be negative. I am happy the incision must be about 1/2 to 3/4 the size that the surgeon explained to me it would be when he went over the procedure with me in his office. I was told it would go from below the corner of the right jawbone down to the middle of the front of my neck. The only downside to that is that the scar will not look as much like someone slashed my throat so it will be less effective as a yarn spinning prop for future stories told to numbskulls in bars in hopes of a free round or two of drinks for me. I think though, I still maybe able to get some mileage out of it this way though. Time will tell. Think of it, that scar, me having had a career as a federal agent and having worked along both borders and in Haiti, and Jamaica, having arrested numerous drug smugglers, money launders, and even suspected (so called anyhow) terrorists by the scores, having been on several other agency details such as to the Secret Service and as an Air Marshal right after 9/11, all added to my actual scuffles such as my off duty shooting that got me the Ballseye nickname, and real on the job injuries - it could be a productive scar. I may not even have to weave into any of the stories the fact that it was the day of a full moon when I got cut (actually the full moon would be the day after the surgery but who will be telling these tales and which sounds better in a tale meant to get me a free beer or Irish Whiskey). When I think of it, I can just imagine any stories I tell, about that scar, being even better than the story telling competition in the movie Jaws. That was when they compared scars aboard the Orca when they were tossing a few back below deck while fishing for the big shark. Yep, I think my new scar (or the scar sure to develop) will likely be good for at least a few rounds at several bars sometime in my future, probably also will be good around a campfire when telling tall tales, and most definitely will be good to flash like a shiny lure to get the attention of, and awe struck looks from, some fishing buddies on my next shark fishing trip (okay I'll settle for my next bluefishing or seabass trip).

I gotta go to do the ice pack thing. Later for all of you.

All the best,
Glenn B