Yesterday I was talking to a guy who’s about to have some kind of crazy back surgery. He explained it to me, and it sounded terrifying. They’re going to remove one disc… fuse two others together… take his spine all the way out and twirl and toss it in the air like a baton. I might have some of the details wrong, but it was definitely no simple outpatient procedure.
“Nervous?” I asked him.
“Nah. There’s nothing to be nervous about. I’m in good hands,” he answered.
“Have you ever had surgery before?” I said, believing he must be an old pro to have such a cavalier attitude.
“No, this is my first time,” he told me.
What the? There’s a chance he was just putting on a brave face, like some people other than me feel compelled to do from time to time. But he certainly didn’t act like it. He seemed to be genuinely chill about the whole thing. And how?
There’s nothing to be nervous about?? Are you fucking kidding me?
Let’s start with the anesthesia. What if you have some kind of allergic reaction to it, or there’s a malfunction of some sort? They could roll in a healthy man with a backache, and 40 minutes later have a flipped-over cadaver on their hands. That shit happens thousands of times per day. At least in my mind, it does.
Also, the doctor could be having an off day. Maybe he stayed up too late binge-watching Sunny. Or perhaps his mind is on an upcoming sex-tourism trip he has scheduled to the Orient. So, he’s not fully concentrating, and he accidentally snips something vital… The next thing you know, you’re strapped to an electric wheelchair for the rest of your life, navigating by blowing through a straw, or whatever.
Or what about those raging runaway infections that people get in hospitals? They make the incision, and within three hours your temperature is fluctuating between 109 and 112. And the hallucinations are so intense you cross over the sanity threshold, never to return. Even if you survive the ordeal, you spend the rest of your days in an asylum, repeating a series of numbers and rocking backward and forward. Nothing else.
So, don’t tell me there’s nothing to be nervous about. I think I need to have a conversation with that young man.
Thankfully I’ve never had surgery. In fact, I’ve never even spent a night in a hospital. I’m sure my time will come, and I’ll be freaking out, man. You can put that one in the DEFINITE column. I’m scared of all things medical, always assume the worst, and have a pretty good imagination. Not a good combination, my friends.
Have you had a major surgery? I’m not talking about wart removal, although I’d be shitting myself over that, as well. During the lead-up to it, were you more like the guy I spoke with? Or were you more like me? Please tell us about it in the comments.
And I need to go to work now.
Have yourselves a fantastic day.
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I have never had major surgery either and glad of it. I had had a couple of colonoscopy’s and had to be sedated but that’s nothing other than a little embarrassing.
I’m going in next week to have a minor outpatient surgery done to fix an umbilical hernia. The doctor says it will only be 45 minutes of actual “knife time” and I won’t be fully anesthetized; just an IV. But, he said, I won’t remember anything. Which freaks me out. Does that mean I’ll be awake and chatting with the doctor while he cuts away? And then not remember what happened? How does that even work? Is it like getting drunk and forgetting where you left your keys or how you got home?
I think I’d rather either be fully zonked on gas or fully awake and aware. This “not really out but not remember anything” is a mind fuck I’d prefer not to have at this stage in my life.
Last summer I had to have a cyst removed from the back of my neck for the second time in 15 years. They shot some sort of stuff near the cyst to numb the area. When the woman started to cut into it – she asked me if I could feel the knife. I said yes. She said “Oops!” or something like that. Now I say I know what it feels like to be knifed in the back. So to speak. I ended up a deep hole full of gauze. I had to go back every few days and have the gauze pulled out and replaced. The first time around they used stitches. The amazing thing is that they did not charge me a co-pay for all those visits. That still amazes me to this day.
normally follow up care after surgery is covered in the surgery fee — for a certain amount of time
If they fail to get every tiny bit of the “sack” that the cyst is encapsulated in, it will come back. Been there, done that.
You are right. When it happened the first time they tried to pull it out. But it did not go. It was about the same this time. It is still in there.
Yes, you quite possibly could be chatting away. Nurses and doctors hear some amazing things in the OR. Unless you’ve committed some major felony you might confess, don’t worry about it, they won’t be shocked and probably won’t remember it.
Jeff, this is one of your best. Keep writing, you are smarter and funnier than 99% of the comedy writers I know.
…but, what about the bribe…
Here’s something to freak you right out. A friend of mine stopped by to visit one evening, and because parking is such a nightmare in our neighborhood (he lived about a mile or two away), he left on a skateboard. About 5 minutes later he’s back at our house holding his arm. He’d hit a rock, fell and broke his arm.
Several months and multiple surgeries later, he’d caught MRSA in the hospital and now can no longer use his arm.
The real sucky part was that he’d stopped to tell us that he’d just graduated from a mechanic’s certification school and was scheduled to start work the next day at an auto shop.
I had that thing a few years back where they stick things up your wrist to check your heart. I don’t think I had ever been put under before. I didn’t like it. When I woke up – I said when are we starting? And the gang of dudes around the table all laughed at me. As they were done and had just woken me up.
Does a liver transplant count?
I spent quite some time at Einstein Hospital in Philadelphia last spring / summer.
Alpha 1 antitrypsin disease is what the doctors settled on. It turns out to be a common disease on my pop’s side of my family. There are two ways alpha 1 antitrypsin expresses itself; it causes scarring of the lung tissue which causes the lungs to fail or it causes scarring of the liver which is cirrhosis. My liver shut down, my skin turned yellow-green and accumulated fluid swelled me up to 240 pounds.
I was so sick by the time a donor organ was located I didn’t feel apprehensive about the surgery. Recovery seemed to take forever, though. Getting the breathing tube removed after surgery is one of my happier memories. The catheter removal stung like crazy.
The scar on my chest is impressive.
The staff at Einstein were great. From the cleaning people to the doctors, all were attentive and polite. So far the donor liver is working out well. I am no longer yellow-green and fluctuate between 165 and 180 pounds.
I think that counts. Glad you are recovered, albeit slowly
I had surgery for the first time last September, at 36 years old: appendectomy. What started as nausea on a Tuesday morning had settled into my lower right abdomen by Wed night. At that point I was Googling “right side abdominal pain” and the interwebs listed my options as gallbladder, appendix, diverticulitis, etc. So, when I went to the Doc on Thurs morning I was rooting for appendix because it seemed like the easiest fix. I live on an island, and a few years ago they would’ve needed to put my ass on a ferry just to get a CT scan but now we have one here. …With a tech who couldn’t find my vein (or his ass with both hands) or read the results, but thank god for the digital age: the images were sent to the mainland, read as appendicitis, and the Doc wrote me a Medical Priority pass for the ferry. So, by Thurs afternoon I was driving myself onto the ferry and to a nearby mainland hospital for surgery, which occurred around 8pm. I was really nauseous in recovery, but had completely forgotten that until the surgeon came in Fri midday to check and release me, and he reminded me that every time they’d asked how I was doing all I said was “nauseous.” Never puked though. What HADN’T occurred to me when I transported myself TO the hospital was how I would get home: a friend had to walk onto the ferry and take a cab to the hospital to collect me and my car. I did have about 3 weeks of internal stabbing while my guts re-oriented (why?? an appendix is tiny and doesn’t leave a huge void!) but nothing I couldn’t handle w/ just motrin. Never took any of the Percocet that was prescribed for the pain. I should find a local miscreant to sell it to…
I just had an appendectomy last Monday night and I was driving home Tuesday by noon. The tiny little glue they used to close the incisions came off in the shower this morning and I’ve been 4 flights since then… recovery was super quick for me. When they got in there they found diverticula that they ripped out while they were in there and evidently my appendix had attached itself to my abdominal wall which they had to cut away. Either way, a couple days resting in bed and I was back in the office and a coup,e more days I was back on the road.
Ain’t laparoscopy amazing?? 😀
I’d be more than happy to help you out by taking those off your hands for you. No need to thank me. I am just a good-hearted guy.
Aww, such a big heart you have, Harry! Wanna come fetch ’em from said island, in WA?
Kristy,
Vashon, Anderson or the San Juans? Actually, I already have enough meds (they gave me extra for inauguration day so I wouldn’t run amok). Just curious as to your propinquity. I’m in the north end of Tacoma.
John
Hiya John,
Friday Harbor! It’s been 8 years since I moved from southern California, and I DO NOT miss Metropolis. The tourists get annoying here in the summer, but it’s also reassuring evidence that I live in a beautiful place. And, the looks I get when I honk at them are entertaining as hell. Apparently Washingtonians don’t think vehicles should make those noises…
I’ve spent most of my Islands time on Orcas, but I’ve logged a week or two on San Juan. It’s certainly a place where one needs way fewer opiates, in part because there’s considerably less honking than on the mainland.
Even with all the crap we’ve dumped into our oceans, the smell of salt water in a marine climate is a universal curative. It’s possible that the last time I actually rested was on the north beach of Orcas Island — and that was twenty years ago.
I envy your residence and wish you warm breezes.
John
In August of even years I sail the San Juans with my high school buddies in a 37 ft Sweden – typically we seaplane up from Sea-Tac and our captain picks us up from the Friday Harbor dock for 3-4 days of sailing, eating and drinking (mostly the latter two). It’s a beautiful place but I imagine the winters are a bit dull and grey. Sometimes we mix it up and seaplane to Canada (Salt Spring Is.), then sail back to the US.
Orcas is one of my favorites…was the Doe Bay Festival happening when you were here, John? Talk about a naked hippie fest! https://doebay.com/music-activities/doe-bay-fest/
I’ve worked on various waters/beaches all around San Juan County and the Sound/Strait, but haven’t ventured into the Gulf Islands much. One great thing about our location is we catch some rain shadow from the Olympic &/or Vancouver Island mountains, so we get about 60% as much rain as Seattle and it tends to be clear and sunny in between as opposed to perpetual grey. The water also keeps us cooler in the summer 🙂
I had my thyroid removed several years ago, and the worst thing was being so nauseated afterward. The incision was pretty sore for a week or so. The best thing was, I was afraid to try a cigarette that first week because I knew it was going to make me cough, and I really didn’t want to do that because I knew it would hurt like a bitch. So I finally managed to quit smoking after 45 years. Bonus!
Hydrocele repair. Twice. Google that shit. I dare you.
Jesus, I thought hydrocele surgery was when they repair a dam. I guess, as it turns out, it sort of is. Wow, you gotta have a lot of balls to go through that. Hope you’re back up-and-atem.
John
I’ve had the surgery your friend is having and it was the best decision I ever had, right after lasik, which I am sure you are scared of too, pussy. My pre-surgery back pain was unbearable so I had nothing to lose.
The one thing they don’t tell you ahead of time is the position your body will be in during the procedure. Sure, they put you to sleep on your back but then the roll you over and prop your ass up in the air, a-la doggy-style. Keep in mind that you are wearing a hospital gown that opens in the back and nothing underneath.
Anyway, what happened with the $20 Tony was going to slip the cable guy? Did it work?
Surgery scares the hell out me.
But only because I have a very skewed perspective. I never see the good ones, just the horror stories. And I could tell you some but I shan’t.
I know if it’s ever necessary I’ll be awefully picky about my surgeon.
God I love this blog… you are friggin’ hilarious… always a great day when I see an update. Keep it up Jeff! From a fan in Canada…
I had oral surgery several years ago. All I can say is that sedation is awesome. Leaning back in the chair, I heard the assistants chatting, plus some clinking of utensils; almost sounded like a dinner party. At some point, the doctor said, “OK, we’re done.” I left with a scrip or three for quality painkillers. Overall as good an experience as something like that can be. It helped to have (at the time) good insurance and a workplace that was cool about sick time. Neither of which I have now, sadly.
I’ve had many surgeries- they all fixed what was broken so I never worry about having surgery.
Jeff, I agree with the comments of Ms Duff and Mr Nick. When you get the juices flowing, you write as well and engagingly as you ever did — perhaps more so. At this point, it’s pretty clear you’ll never write for Letterman, but if the world ever needed wiseassery as art, it’s now. Thank you for taking the time and trouble to craft entertaining prose.
John
I have had several surgeries over the years but probably the most complicated was my left arm. My left humerus snapped in two places when I had 365 pounds over my head. The bone broke, the tricep and bicep detached and balled up at my elbow and the deltoid came off and moved down to where the bicep should have been. After 5 hours of surgery, they had cored out the humerus and placed a titanium rod through the marrow channel and reattached everything. I had about a 1 year recovery before I could begin lifting again. The doc says my “new” arm is stronger than the old. Back to lifting heavy weight again with no issue.
I shudder reading that.
Are you featured in one of those youtube vids of catastrophic weight lifting moments?
Pictures?
X-rays, but no way to post them.
I had a tumor removed from my face (around my jaw and ear) many years ago. My biggest fear wasn’t the surgery–it was wondering if the tumor was cancerous or not. Turns out it was just a cyst. Now I have one on my wrist that hopefully won’t involve total anesthesia to remove. I’m not going to lie, being totally sedated freaked me out a little!
I completely agree with the other comments that are praising this post JK. You were in exceptionally good form when you wrote this! I like everything you do here in general, but this one was a gem. I have been under the knife a few times in my life, but only for more routine stuff like a hernia repair and some minor pre-cancerous lesion removal type stuff. As you get older, I reckon that it becomes part of the bargain. I am thankful for all of the medical interventions available in our modern age I suppose. I would probably already be dead already if not for a couple of such events in my life. If you ever find yourself in such a scenario wherein a doctor recommends something to either save you or make your life much less painful, I think your perspective would be altered such that your fear would be significantly tempered. Happy to hear that you have never needed this type of intervention thus far.
Suggestion for future posts: in the past you used to have a ‘now playing in the bunker’ feature. I’d love it if you could maybe bring that back. You’ve turned me on to more than one artist through this bit of sharing.
Hydrocele and hernia at age 10, ruptured appendix at 15, varicocele at 34, and a sternoscopy at 41 to biopsy some enlarged lymph nodes (negative for cancer – it was sarcoidosis). Also an apicoectomy (lifting my front gum to look for an infection after a root canal) at 13. Got the laughing gas for that one and it was fun. Can’t say I really enjoyed any of the surgeries but the appendix one saved my life.
Forgot to add tonsils at age 6 or 7 (do they even do that anymore, to anyone?), and adenoid removal at 16. Man that’s a lot of butchery. An average of one surgery every 8 years…
Left knee replaced 2013, right knee replaced 2014. Kidney stones removed 2006 (stones as big as baseballs in both kidneys, 9 operations in all)
The records show I’ve only had four major operations, but I have confidential evidence that I’ve had over five million.
Holy Jesus and Mary, they’re rewriting the DSM as I type this. The next edition will, for the first time, have a centerfold. Heaven help us all.
John
Disorder of the Month, no doubt.
I’m afraid it’s a four year term. This will entail a total rewrite.
I had open heart surgery 2 years ago, to repair a faulty mitral valve. And back in the 70’s I had a surgery to repair my nasal septum. Neither were unbearable, but I wouldn’t agree to do them again, if I had a choice.