Me, last Thursday morning, 6 a.m.: "Yes, good grief, it's just a HERRneeyah repair, it's not like it's a major surgery. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know all about the risks of anesthesia and how I need to rest for a couple of weeks afterwards. I've got it. Duly noted, yes, I know you'll protect my personal health information blahdeblahdeeblah".
Now just shove my guts back inside that hole behind my belly button, staple in a mesh screen door so they can't get out again, then sew the whole shebang closed. End of story, no big deal. I've been reading WebMD and I know what you're supposed to do here. Heck, I'd do it my own damn self if I could, or I'd at least keep waiting until they're actually hanging outside of my body and ruining other peoples' supper. I really don't have time for this. But whatever. Hurry up and bring me some drugs; looking forward to getting a good nap this morning."
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Me, last Thursday around noon: "Wha-a-ah...wherrre amm I? Oh hi Georgeanne, I remember now. Thank you for bringing me for myyyyOHMYLORD MY BELLY IS KILLING ME! I've been mauled by a wild animal or attacked by an axe murderer! Oh sweet lord, has anyone here seen The Revenant? Because that's what's been done to my belly. Me and Leo, gutted and flayed. Ow ow ow ow ow owOWW!!"
Enter Dr. Rivera, the axe murderer/wild animal who did the procedure. "Your hernia was a little bigger than we'd thought, about the size of my fist. As you can see, I made an incision that crosses your navel from north to south, and because of the abdominal muscle incision, you are going to be in some pain for the rest of the day and then sore for the next few days. I'd like for you to stay here tonight, then you can go home tomorrow."
Me: "Dr. Rivera, did you see The Revenant?"
Dr. Rivera: (smiles kindly and says, "there there".)
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Me, last Thursday night: "What do you mean, I can't have any more morphine?? I was GUTTED like a fish today for God's sake, and it hurts to breathe. Hell, it hurts to even ask you for pain medicine, so get going. HAVE YOU SEEN THE REVENANT?? What's that? I just had some 30 minutes ago?? Humph. Your clock is broken, because I am dying here. And no, I'm not going to cough or get up and walk around. If you can't manage more drugs, sister, then don't come back until you can."
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Me, last Friday morning around 3 a.m.: "Thank you, Jenn, you are the best nurse ever. (note: Jenn wouldn't give me any more morphine either, but she sat with me in the dark for about an hour and we talked about our families while the Motrin kicked in and I forgot all about The Revenant.)
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Me, last Friday around noon: "Yes, hell yes, I'm ready to go. Get me out of here, it's like 90 degrees up in here."
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Me, last Friday afternoon, speaking to my family: "Do you guys remember seeing The Revenant? Well, yeah! That! Does anyone want to see my belly? Cause it's gross and cool. I probably won't ever be able to wear a bikini again (big sigh of relief from my teenagers here). What? No, well, no I haven't worn one since Reagan was president, but that's beside the point. I'm scarred for life now. This new scar, plus the C-section zip line I have for both of you, has ruined my Sports Illustrated modeling career. I hope you're happy with yourselves."
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Me, yesterday at work: "No, I'm not tired. OK, well yes, maybe a little tired. By the way - did you see The Revenant?"
:-)
