Chapter Sixteen: Whatever Works for You, Doc.

I was pretty relaxed the rest of the evening, even though I was wheeled down bed and all to the X-ray department for a pre-op image of my hip. I had to be moved from the bed to the examination table, quite an uncomfortable amount of movement for my broken hip. Fortunately there was plenty of help to move and position me for the front and side images, and I was mentally prepared to take everything the techs had to do in stride having worked as a transporter for an x-ray department years ago. I actually got a fitful sleep that night and looked forward to getting the whole operative procedure over with. By the time the orderlies came to pick me up from my room the next morning I was already premedicated for surgery and feelin fine. I was as amicable as could be with the nurses and staff; these could've been the last people I'd ever see. I was also grateful to have such a professional crew to treat me, I always had nothing but confidence in the thought that they'd give me a great chance at recovery. There was a last second change in plans, though, when my surgeon spoke with me in pre-op to express some concerns. Originally he had planned on accessing my fractured hip through the side. That would have required me to be placed face down on a cumbersome looking operating table designed specifically for the procedure. He was concerned, however, with my broken nose and the chest tube that was still connected to my chest cavity. Then there was the issue of my past history with epileptic seizures. For these reasons the surgeon told me that he would enter the broken hip through the front, with my being place face up for the surgery. This, he explained, would leave a longer and more noticeable scar. I knew, from the internet info that I had read on the procedure that it would also mean more blood loss and a longer recovery from the muscles and tissue that would have to be sliced to access the area to be repaired. I didn't care. I was ready, partly because I knew I needed the operation if I had any chance at walking again. I was also very confident in the Doctors abilities, his whole demeanor exuded confidence. And I was, of course, thoroughly pre-medicated. I looked up at him and said "whatever works for you, Doc!", and that was it. He smiled and left to prepare for my surgery. The anasthesiologist came in and introduced himself and asked a few questions. I told him of my concern about post operative nausea; the pain from my broken ribs would have been greatly exasperated from any heaving fits. He told me that he'd give me something for the nausea, then said that he'd give me something to calm me down. I watched him inject something into my I.V. line, and just like that I was out like a light.

When I came to I was in the post op area of the surgical ward. No nausea! I looked down and saw a bundle of bandages covering my newly repaired hip. The traction device was gone. I made it through surgery and was feeling great! The nurse came by to check on me and I told her that I was ready to go back to my room.

Next up: Where Do I Go from Here?