Somebody cut me. Four times!

Okay. So I've been a shitty Jedi of late and not blogged. I swear I have good reasons.

As many of you know, back in September I had a bit of a medical problem with my gall bladder. And then despite not blogging it, back in January I made trip to the sick bay at nearby Hollywood Presbyterian where they told me I needed to have surgery asap!

Three months later, which I suppose is a testament to this country's health care system, I went in for my "oh so important and necessary" surgery to have my gall bladder removed.

In case you have morbid curiosity like me, here is a video of what they do.

Tuesday morning (April Fools Day) I went in for surgery to have it removed because it was kicking my ass. All day Monday I was doing things expecting them to be the last time I would ever do them. My last supper sucked. My last shit was unsatisfying. I had Danica visit because she wanted to borrow a movie that is really hard to find and because it would be easier to borrow while I’m still alive. Whatever. I went to Dodgers opening day and that was full of mixed emotions because as much as I love the Dodgers and they won the game against the hated Giants, a friend of mine somehow became my conscience and wouldn’t allow me to eat yummy stadium food.

My registration time for surgery was changed last minute from 6am to 5am. That sucked. Why even bother going to sleep right?

Anyways, I show up to the hospital and they were expecting me. Nice old lady registered me and said they would be with me in a few minutes. Not long after I got taken into a pre-op room where I had to strip and put a hospital gown on. I laid in bed and they asked me a bunch of questions about allergies and lifestyle habits. Then I had to sign some paperwork. Thats when I started to freak out. Thats when they said, "just in case Dr. Riviera cant perform the surgery laparoscopically he may have to cut you open and you may have to stay a couple of days.

cue broken R2 Unit

Say what!? Totally unexpected. Why wouldn’t he be able to do it how we discussed? Oh its just in case he finds something unusual or maybe wants to explore something else. WTF! This guy is a surgeon not a fucking conquistador exploring my innards!

Needless to say I was freaking out at this point. I signed the waiver but was scared shitless. Nurse came in and strapped an IV on my hand. Why my hand? Why not my arm? I started questioning everything. My heart was beating faster than Lando Calrissians hands were during his gambling days. Suddenly I became ultra sensitive to my entire surroundings and could hear conversations the Medical Corps were having down the hall.

In walked the anesthesiologist. He asked me all the same questions the nurses had asked me earlier. Explained how he was gonna knock me the fuck out, then walked away. Crazy thing was, he really did look like Nick Riviera. Next walked in another doctor who said he would be assisting on my surgery and asked me what I was having done. WTF? You’re asking me! You should know! Next walks in my surgeon and he asks me the same thing!

OMG OMG OMG OMG.

Well, looks like the OR is ready. They start to wheel my scared ass into a room thats freezing with all kinds of medical droids and people in masks and beeps and basically I thought I was going to go through a Darth Vader conversion operation at this point. I jump from the medical capsule onto the operating table and lay down. The Anesthesiologist slaps a mask over my face and says take deep breaths I need your lungs to fill with oxygen before I put you down. WTF! I’m not a dying dog! The mask was uncomfortable and as much I could inhale I couldn't exhale for shit and it started to freak me out. I had one doctor grab my right arm and put a blood pressure monitor on it and then strap it down to the table, then another guy took my left arm and strapped it down to the table. Somebody put a heartbeat monitor on my finger and then they strapped my legs down to the table. I freaked out and said "why are you strapping me d........ ZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZ

So yeah. I passed out. I had a crazy dream that I was fighting people and trying to run away. When I woke up, everything was a haze, blurry, voices seemed distant yet close by and my feet were cold so I asked a nurse next to me to bring me a blanket. She said don't go anywhere. Where am I going to go? She laughed. I lay there trying to correct my vision when I realized that surgery must be over and that I had tried to run away. I asked the nurse when she returned if I had really tried to run away and she laughed and said yes. She said as soon as I woke up I had tried to run away and it took four nurses to restrain me and get me back in bed. Really? Yeah. You were pretty heavily sedated and it still took four of us a tough time to get you to lay down. Wow. Yeah we nicknamed you Darth Bane. Wow.

I got some instructions about diet and drug (prescription) use. Do not operate lightsabers for 24 hours, rest and avoid making critical decisions or signing documents. I didn’t accidentally get married did I?

Surgery lasted 40 minutes and I was home by noon.

I felt pretty good for the rest of the day. Family came over and hung out. I saw The Lion King with the kids, got phone calls from friends, one person I wanted to come didn’t or rather couldn’t due to a cold.

The next day (Wednesday) I felt like I had been hit by a bus. My whole body hurt from hair follicle to toe nail. I still managed to go to a John Williams show that evening. Probably shouldn’t have gone. Oh well. A few other friends called. That was nice.

Thursday I woke up feeling much better. A little sore around the incisions which are four by the way. My belly button which has one incision itches really bad. I bled a little last night but nothing major. I’ve lost more blood popping a pimple. My boss called to find out if I was okay.

Anywho. I’m good. Thanks to all my young padawans and Jedi and Sith friends alike who called to wish me well.