Went pretty well thank you for asking, and quite a few people did, and the only reason I say that is because you should feel guilty if you didn’t know. There, I said it.
Kidding, of course, not that many people I knew I was having surgery, except for the people I see on a pretty daily basis. I guess that’s an effect of not having a Facebook, but, as usual, a welcome effect.
Anyway, the surgery. For me the entire ordeal started at two a.m. the morning before because that was the last time I was allowed to eat. Patients aren’t supposed to eat twelve hours before the surgery and mine was at two thirty p.m., so I had a small meal at one in the morning and that was it until five o’clock the next day. I know, not that bad, but still something to bemoan.
I tried to sleep as late as I could which is not something I do usually, I try to be up by nine a.m. every morning. I “slept” until about eleven thirty and then laid in bed finishing the Bible until around noon. Then I took a shower, donned comfortable clothes and no contacts, and scooted off to the Sport Medicine Associates building in the Medical Center to undergo my surgery. My mom and I arrived at the suite and checked in, and then got to talk to a very nice nurse/administrator who was very receptive to my hungry/delirious joke style at the time. I was basically mumbling.
After that I went back into the surgery area and they put me down onto a hospital gurney. A different nurse came and manscaped my knee, put in the IV, and went over all my personal details one more time to ensure that yes, they were operating on Mark Stenberg 08/24/92 Left Knee. Then the waiting began. My surgery was scheduled for 2:30, but I was read to go by about 1:35, and they didn’t end up performing the surgery until almost three exactly. It’s hard to do anything well or maintain a conversation when you’re cold, hungry, and have an IV in your arm, and so I sort of just slept. My parents were both back with me at this time, and we were cloistered off by a drape around my bed, so they just chatted it up. Which was fine, it kind of helped me sleep.
Around 2:50 a nurse finally pulled back the drape and came at me with a needle, typically a bad sign, but not in this situation. She injected me with the first round of happy juice and immediately–immediately–I felt way better. I love the cart ride back to the operating room because I always talk to the nurse that pulls me back; I have made that particular conversation a tradition over the course of my four surgeries. When she pulled me into the room all the surgeons were waiting because I was their last surgery of the day, and I’m pretty sure the word “shortcut” was mentioned a few times. Last thing I know they gave me another injection that HURT but put me to sleep.
I woke up a second later in the recovery room and was attended to by a very nice male nurse. He was polite and conversational and I think we were both surprised by how good I felt. He ushered my parents back and they asked how I felt. I felt fine really, still do, my knee doesn’t hurt at all. I had nausea pretty bad yesterday, but it’s pretty much gone today. They wheeled my out in a wheelchair, I hopped in the truck with my dad, and he drove me home.
Since then I have been: eating, mock drafting, sleeping, and wasting time. There isn’t much I can do because of my knee being all bandaged up and whatnot, but I anxiously await finally being able to run again! That’s what I’m the most excited about, hands down. That and being able to do Insanity again! Jk.