1st rule of going to the doctor

1^st rule of going to the doctor:

If the doctor says there is a chance “complications,” always investigate these complications as thoroughly, thoroughly, thoroughly as possible, and then do a websearch

Its yesterday, and I’m in surgery to take out a screw put in place during an old surgery from about six or seven years ago, and the process should take no longer than 30 minutes and probably only 15, if you choose to believe the medical profession. But by now I know that they are all in collusion, and I’m prepared for Murphy to rear his ugly head, and right on time to the minute, the asshole showed up.

By now I’ve met the medical staff attending me and I’ve had my local anesthesia to numb up my knee, I feel I don’t need a general (the type where they knock you out, rape you and leave you to wake up in a Mexican cemetery with no idea of why your boxers are on your head) because I have a ton of errands I need to get done, and I feel like driving myself to them. The whole freefall feeling General anesthesia gives you hampers your ability to stop for old ladies at crosswalks, natural vindictiveness also seems to have this effect. Doc has made the incision over the screw and has placed the screwdriver in its position so I figure the “only ten seconds of moderate pain” is about to begin.

2^nd rule of going to the doctor

If the doctor feels he isn’t going to deceive you and explains you might feel more than a slight “poke” or “jab”… RUN!

…about to begin. Little did I know the act of unscrewing metal from bone with no form of anesthesia is a little like a herd of buffalo tapdancing on your knee, poorly. The doctor then pronounced that I’m “lucky to have such hard bones,” and proceeded to further explain that my “lucky bone” had broken the head of the screw off with half an inch of stainless steel shaft sticking out of my knee. This was also the point where I found out the other inch of the screw was still inside. Soon after this our friendly doctor asked if I was “ok” and told me he would have to do a little more work. Unfortunately I trusted him, and naturally, he proceeded to take a chisel and hammer and attempted to “open up a little space” around the bone. Ten minutes later, I was about to ask about the lights flickering and strange shapes bouncing around on the walls when out of a pain induced fog I heard a distant foghorn softly. It said, “Evan, how are you doing? Are you ok?” To which I answered in the affirmative, and then as an afterthought, the foghorn whispered “Are you in pain?” I nodded my head, but the only people who could see that were the shapes on the wall and I was not entirely sure they were real yet, so I replied… “Well of course, you’re chiseling at my bone and I have local anesthesia for my skin” I’m not sure how forceful this was but I’m pretty sure it was slightly sarcastic so I guess I’m “lucky” he stopped.

3^rd rule of going to the doctor

Always find out exactly what little improvisations are going to be happening before going under general anesthesia.

Now that my knee feels sort of like a sculpture and mostly like a coal mine, the amount of nurses and doctor’s double, I know this is not a hallucination because their eyes were different colored and none of them could get the damn IV in my arm right… they all tried. Finally, three vice grips, a pair of pliers and an anesthesiologist later, while bags of tools are being emptied onto the bed next to my leg and distant voices are murmuring “nope, this didn’t work either, hand me…that...um… thing over there,” they attach the gas mask and I’m blessedly out.

I wake up, find out my recovery time has been doubled, I have a large hole in my knee, my ligament had to be “cut a little” to make room for the drills (plural) and I have a nice new prescription for powerful painkillers along with my stainless steel screw washed of all the blood. And because I couldn’t walk straight, they said I couldn’t drive, so I couldn’t run my goddamn errands!