I have had several surgeries in my lifetime. And while nobody really loves being sick or injured, looking back I have to say that I have enjoyed the experience of having had these operations. Every one of them improved me in some way, either in quality of life or, in saving my life itself.
My arm works fine but there is a very slight loss of motor skill and strength. And there are three parallel scars in the nearly the same place, overlapping each other! I quipped to my surgeon that NEXT time, instead of suturing this close, let’s just put in a ZIPPER! -It would make getting into here easier in the future!
I will probably never be able to play golf or baseball and do not feel confident climbing up steep ladders anymore. But I’ll take that and be grateful.
Just over a year ago I had a elective surgery to remove a ‘concha bulosa’ from my sinuses. A small cyst that the surgeon found in there was also removed. In short, -I no longer snore and can breath much easier, especially at night. When I was able to see that doctor a few days after the surgery, I reported that when I inhale so much air is being taken in that it cools the roof of my mouth and makes my upper teeth tingle a little bit. I added playfully that this was going to feel really magical later this winter when it is minus 20 degrees outside! –He laughed and agreed that it might. It just might, he chuckled. This surgery benefited not only me but also my wife. Think about it; -I do not snore anymore. How do you think that makes HER feel? 
Yeah! –Thought so!
All in all, I really have to say that while nobody wants to be sick or injured, for me and when the course of action has been decided, I have to say that I really enjoy giving my trust to those whom promise to safeguard, protect, operate upon me and make me better. Yeah, I do like surgeries.
Well, I could write another article itself about \\\’after the surgery\\\’. It was more-or-less expected, first off, that I would now survive at that point, but be mentally retarded or at least, unable to walk. Therefore, I was left in the semi-private room unattended.
I awoke, climbed out of bed and in my flannel zip-up onesie sleeper (I was only four years old), shuffled out the door, past the nurses\\\’ station and into a public washroom that I saw men walking into/out of. I needed to urinate. Not being able to reach the urinal, I waited for a stranger to lift me up so I could \\\’go\\\’, and then he held me up in front of the sink so I could wash my hands, and he let me continue when I was done. Okay, -\\\’Guardian Angel\\\’ maybe?? Anyway…
-Out the door, back past the nurses\\\’ station and I still went unnoticed, and on to the playroom at the end of the hall. I wanted to watch TV. The TV was bolted to the ceiling high in a corner, with vinyl-covered padded chair beneath it. Stacking wooden boxes (toys, I suppose) on that chair, I climbed up high enough to reach the TV and turn it on, changed channels to find something I wanted to watch. I remember watching an episode of \\\”Little Rascals\\\” (they made pancakes but used Plaster of Paris instead of flour so they were coming out as flat cement-cakes!) I was on a bouncy-horsie going nuts bouncing up & down and happy when I heard a blood-curdling scream \\\”OH MY GOD HE\\\’S GONE!!!\\\”
I stopped bouncing and leaned forward a bit on the horsie so I could see down the long hall, I saw about a dozen nurses running towards me with a wheelchair in front of them almost skidding sideways they came towards me so fast(!) They snatched me off of the bouncy-horse the way King Kong grabbed Faye Wray, threw me into the wheelchair and ran my little butt down to X-ray to check bandaged head! The called the surgeon \\\’to come inspect\\\’ me, etc. By then of course they had me bawling and crying in fear… I remember being sternly chastised by at least a dozen people over the next day or three about NOT climbing out of bed again or wandering off…
Anyway, -didn\\\’t mean to babble adu myself again (the article did it enough as it was.)
Glad you read it, hope it means something to everyone whom reads it. Oh, -I remember being told that that \\\’burning tyre smell\\\’ was the \\\’deep sedative gas\\\’ they give. They are supposed to start off with something \\\’soft\\\’ like ether or whatever, to \\\’lightly knock the patient out\\\’ like they do in dentist\\\’s offices, and THEN switch-over to the \\\’deep, strong\\\’ stuff that knocks you out for hours… they had jumped ahead a little bit and started the strong gas too soon… I was \\\’still awake\\\’..
The more I read/reread this article, the MORE specifics I recall.. I really remember i, ALL, vividly and explicitly. And even something that I did when I got home… I was carefully itching a scratchie spot on the top of my scalp and plucked up a 3-sided \\\’wedge\\\’ (like a 3-sided pyramid) out of my scalp out and examined it, I tried to replace it but could not get it to sit right, so I secretly flushed it down the upstairs toilet and never told anyone (not mom or dad, especially!!), ever (except for my wife and that was just recently!)
This \\\’3-sided wedge\\\’ was probably for a \\\’scope to view the space between the hemispheres to guide the other tools, inserted through the larger hole nearer the base of my skull/neck.
This \\\’wedge\\\’ was not stitched in place, but merely \\\’plugged back in\\\’. In it\\\’s absence, the \\\’hole\\\’ scabbed-over, healed, and all I have for it now is a \\\’bald bump\\\’ about the size of my pinkie-fingernail in it\\\’s place… -Like I said, I could write a BOOK from these weird but all-true memories! 
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