Today was not a very productive day at work. Early in the morning, I headed over to St. Vincent's to meet with a surgeon and schedule hernia surgery. The meeting didn't go as I'd hoped.
As it turns out, I have not one, but two hernias. The one of the right is severe enough that I can see it protruding from my abdomen, the surprise hernia on the left is smaller and hasn't yet worked its way out.
The operation normally takes about 30 minutes, but it'll be twice as long with my "bilateral inguinal herniae." So I'll be out for about an hour. That's scary. Recovery time will supposedly be about the same, but the pain may be greater, and I won't be able to favor one side over the other.
While talking with the doctor, I inquired as to how they'd put me to sleep for the surgery. His response was "Have you ever heard of Michael Jackson?"
I wasn't much in the mood for that, so I responded to his poor humor with my own sarcasm. "No, not this week," I said.
"Well he was taking a drug called diprivan, and that's what we'll give you," the doctor told me. What a wonderful bedside manner this guy has.
"Since that's what supposedly killed him," I said, "I'm not sure that's the best track to go when explaining the anesthesia process to patients."
My surgery is scheduled for a week from today. Oh, and did I mention?... Two hernias!
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