Sebbylite

What can I say, I’m boring.

Or at least that is what almost all of my doctors and nurses told me today. I’m not allergic to anything, I don’t have any sort of medical history (other than getting my wisdom teeth out, which doesn’t count), I’m pretty healthy in general, I have a good heart and lungs, I don’t notice or squeam when they put the IV in or give me shots, I don’t get nauseous from being in general anesthesia, and I don’t even notice that I had surgery today other than the fact that I can’t move my leg much. Basically, boring.

Although it seems that no one believes me when I say that my knee doesn’t hurt at all. The nurses kept asking if I wanted a wheelchair to get out of the Recovery Room. All my friends claim that it is just the leftover pain medication that is masking the knee pain (although if it was leftover pain medication, why would my throat hurt from having the breathing tube in and then removed, but not my knee?). And my dad just flat out doesn’t believe me (he had ACL surgery a long time ago, and it didn’t go good for him).

Not that I am going to tell any of this to my office. They hooked me up with a laptop so that I could work from home, and by golly I’m going to do just that for as long as I can. I should be able to push through until at least next Wednesday before I need to go back into the office, which is amazing.

I guess the best story I can tell about today is that the anesthesiologist who was working on me all morning was mildly attractive (not in scrubs, but her ID picture was pretty good), and that they gave me some vanilla pudding when I woke up. Of course we had to settle on vanilla pudding because they didn’t have what I originally asked for (bacon, eggs, waffles, and toast), but it was pretty good anyway.

Oh, and the fact that my dog hates me now. I lumber around after him, which he doesn’t really understand. And I don’t move very fast, so when I took him for a walk this afternoon, he kept looking back at me as if to say “What the hell, man?!? I move faster than this when I’m dragging my ass on the carpet at home. Let’s get a move on here!”. Maybe that is my imagination, but if I were him that’s definitely what I would be thinking.

Unless anything goes drastically bad or uncharacteristically good, this is probably the last I’m going to tell everyone about the whole process. For the most part, it was boring, and I’m not so much of an asshole that I’ll subject you to a hour by hour account of my recovery (I’m close, but I’m also lazy which is taking precedence right now). So this is me, hour 5, saying I’m bored of watching movies already, and I’m out.