At 6:00 a.m. yesterday, J and I went forth into the darkness to the medical center for my dreaded Nose Surgery. Checked in, saw my folks who came for support, talked some Batman, and was then taken back into the patient space to get the whole shebang started.
Touro has a great team over there, for this kind of stuff. Great bedside manner from everyone I met. Knowledgeable, efficient, friendly. I met about a gozillion people in the span of the 45 minute process of peeing in a cup, changing into this great newfangled hospital gown that does NOT hang open in the back (bless them) and answering the same 100 questions over and over again to a variety of nurses and doctors: Yes, all my piercings are out; No, I don’t have any loose teeth or falsies; The last time I ate was last night before midnight; Nope, ain’t pregnant (thanks, pee test); Yep, I’m nervous but that’s okay; Of course I know what procedure I’m getting; ad nauseum.
I liked it that mum got to come back and give me a kiss before they knocked me out.
Then, the nurse gave me a whomper shot of Happy Drugs and the last two things I remember are 1.) Nurse laughing at me when the Happy Drugs kicked in, as I got glazey and proclaimed, “WOW! THERE it is!” and 2.) Being transferred from the rolly bed to the surgery table.
Then, BAM! I was suddenly coming to as they positioned my rolly bed back into it’s original spot, and that was that. I woke up with a start, kind of like I do on mornings where I think I’ve overslept or have some sort of dream that has reminded me of something I think I may have forgotten to do. BAM was followed by that sensation of waking up the morning after several too many glasses of wine. The first thing I noticed was the time. I was only in there an hour, and drunkenly proclaimed my amazement of, “WOW, that was fast!” Then they gave me ice chips (thank gods, since it was hard to swallow and my throat was dry) which I deemed out loud as “The best Sno-Ball ever,” and after that I got the rest of myself back and was just sleepy, but alert and finished saying weird random things.
The gals came around and checked vitals periodically. I didn’t really sleep because I was too interested in observing my surroundings and sending some good energy vibes to the gal next to me who went in either just before or just after me, was really out of it, and in a ton of pain. I was less miserable (actually, I wasn’t really miserable at all) so I figured I’d try to help while I was laying there with my eyes closed. Oh, and Touro is really color coordinated – that blue they use is everywhere, and from a design perspective conveys organization and consistency and I was impressed. Eventually I graduated from ice chips to Sprite. That was the Best Sprite Ever, I can tell you.
Before too long, the good Doc came by and told me everything was great, confirmed that I was to come see him next Friday, and pulled the cotton out of my nose and replaced it with a lip bandage to catch the Goop. Then the nurse snipped off the hospital bracelets, and wheeled me out the door.
When J pulled the car around and saw me, one of the first things he said was that he wanted to draw a Moustache on my lip bandage.
We got home and I spent the whole day and night on the couch, watching movies and reading and dozing and entertaining my Facebook friends with pain-med-riddled humor. I mentioned J’s Moustache threat, and that I was afraid to sleep because he might draw one on me while I was out. The public response was pretty epic and, by then, I’d decided it would be pretty epic too. Tomorrow, after I was done being goopy and past my 24 hour Behave period.
I had a great night’s sleep and woke up pretty early. J came out and from the couch, after realizing I didn’t need the perpetual goop catcher anymore for a little while, I proclaimed it was Moustache time. And so, while he did NOT attack me with a marker in my sleep, he DID do it at my behest right after waking up, which is close enough.
Thus, at 6:00 a.m. today, 24 hours after we ventured into the dark to head to Touro, here is what transpired:
This was my “I WOKE UP WITH A MOUSTACHE, OMG!” face – just to pretend it had actually gone down that way.
After getting used to it, I started to get into my Evil Villain Role. I look like the Duke from Moulin Rouge, here.
To further find The Moment, J let me borrow his top hat.
NOW I was in the groove, and began plotting my next piece of Villainy.
MOO HOO HWAHAHAHA!!! Off to find someone to tie to a railroad track.
I snapped the shots and ditched the bandage, all very quickly. Drawing with Sharpie on noze gauze is fairly akin to putting ether or chloroform on a rag and holding it over someone’s face. Now, I’m enjoying a brief stint of early Saturday morning writing, and then I shall call the folks, and then proceed back to the Couch Nest for another day of being mellow because that’s what I need to do!
So until next time, have a great weekend, y’all.
Oh, and as we roll into a glorious Halloween season, feel free to use this as an insta-costume idea. Ha! Thanks for the brilliant post-op idea, J.
5 Comments Add yours
I’m glad your surgery was a success and that you’re doing well. Love the mustache pics 🙂
THANKS! Doing great now, it’s amazing. I so couldn’t resist doing the mustache pics – I STILL have the mustache bandage, I want to stick it on random things around town and take photos of them. HA!
Haha.. Love the pics… Also, you have a really interesting blog name.. Am curious on the story behind it? 🙂
Hi there and welcome! Thank you so much for coming by and commenting. Thank you, on the blog name. Back in either very late 2011, or very early 2012, I was saving up to move to New Orleans (which was an insane move to make) and really wanted to start a blog so that I could write about it. BUT, my biggest hangup was what to call it. My good friend Mel, that Fall of 2011, was working the Louisiana Renaissance Festival and took a lot of field trips on their off days. She paid a visit to the Abita Mystery House, in Abita Springs, LA, and brought back, as a gift for me, a hand-painted sign with a heart, that said “Follow Your Crazy.” (It’s the one used for the blog banner.) This was at the pinnacle of my “WHAT DO I CALL THE BLOG?!” era, and when she returned and gifted that sign to me over lunch in downtown Denver, something clicked and I KNEW that was what the name should be. The rest is crazy history. ;D
Absolutely loved your pictures of the Snidley Whiplash kind of character. That is what his name was? Glad your experience with this was a good one.