Surgery is Sexy. . .and Fruitful!

I spent my Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday in surgery. Mind you, it was minor surgery-but I enjoyed the full surgical experience, nonetheless. It started with a 6:30am call time, 2 hours of prep and a stylish ensemble complete with a fetching hair net and couture-like purple dressing gown which, thanks to my poi-fed figure, didn't close in the back. That meant my trips to the restroom had me wrapping my tush with a blanket and shuffling across the floor with darling purple 'bairpaw' socks (which I asked to take home, thank you!).  Because the nature of the procedure was quick and highly routine, I assured my Hubby that he and Sonny needn't wait for me, I'd be fine and would call to be picked up after surgery.  One hour into my prep, images of a minor procedure gone awry flooded my head and given my vivid imagination, what started out as self-talk; "this is gonna be a breeze" soon led to; "I just might die on the table" and hence, the panic set in.  That led to a tearful and panicked phone call to already sleeping Hubby who didn't pick up his phone and me leaving a lengthy instructional message. . ."hon, in case things don't go right, my last wishes are in the office, in one of the plastic drawers next to the fax machine and the life insurance papers are somewhere on the ground (ask brother Austin, he's our insurance agent) and our list of debts are saved somewhere on the computer. . .i love you guys." As I hung up, I promised myself that should I make it through the 15-minute procedure, I would organize my crap better.  As they wheeled me into the OR, I tried not to think of the medical students who'd be observing my woo-woo that day and was soon sent into a blissful drug-induced reverie.  I awoke to a cheerful nurse, and started to ask my typical 50 million questions while still feeling quite fine, thank you. As I rambled on like an idiot, I recall saying something about the drugs being great, a new experience to my sterile Mormon lifestyle. As she handed me over to nurse Jared, she mentioned, "you'll like this one, she's a chatty Matty" after which I proceeded to tell him that if I had my glasses on, I'd assess whether or not he was hot like one of the doctors on Grey's Anatomy (seriously, Delia!). After a couple of hours in recovery, excellent care by the doctors and nurses of Kapi'olani Women's and Children's Hospital and instructions that I couldn't have *what!* for *how long?* (sorry Hubby), I was wheeled up to my awaiting carriage, where my two soles took me home. And so, being the strong Hawaiian woman that I am, I basically milked my post-surgery caretakers for all I could. . .that meant a trip for Hubby to Zippy's for my plate lunch, a trip to Foodland for Ben & Jerry's chocolate fudge brownie, another trip to Barnes and Noble to purchase the entire "Hunger Games" trilogy (I've been suffering from withdrawals since I finished "Telesa" by Lani Wendt Young last week-READ IT PEOPLE!), a day of rest and Sonny's "you ok mom, feeling good?" every hour or so.  Wow. . .if I knew this is what minor surgery would yield. . .any-who, I'm on the mend, with Motrin at hand, back to back episodes of the "Golden Girls", canine comfort, books and ice cream and dear friends who check up on me (thanks Belz, Aussie and Saber!), I should be fully recovered by work tomorrow. . . and if not, there's always sick leave. . .