Well, here I am - back at work. Everything is just about the same. My boss still hates me, but that's normal. We have new timeclocks, the door has been taken off the darkroom down in the OR, and there's a computer down there (yet still no digital processor, which would have been the thing to get BEFORE the computer), and I only had one "get well" card from anyone in the hospital, of course, the person I talk to the absolute least
Oh yeah, and the welcome back from my boss consisted of, "Why are you on a crutch? I thought you were back with no restrictions."
I did my first case, and of course, everyone wanted to baby me and hug me and push everything around for me, but I was like, "come on, guys - I'm totally good. It was my knee, not my arm."
Also, my doctor who I normally do most of my surgery cases with just had hip replacement surgery here today! I couldn't believe it - I actually thought he was going to have his surgery while I was out. But I came in and checked the schedule and saw his name on there, so I hobbled down to surgery as fast as I possibly could. I wanted to see him pre-operatively, but they had already put him under and were prepping, so I just went in and hugged his head (everybody did the "awwww").
He just came out a little bit ago, so I went to see him in recovery, and he's just as loopy as I was. He kept falling asleep, and when he'd snore, he'd wake up and say, "I can't seem to control my glottis!" He said his thigh was hurting, and when they'd give him morphine, he'd say he could feel it all in his chest, which is exactly what the dilaudid did for me.
Everyone in recovery was kidding me and giving me a hard time about when I was there. They said I talked the entire time, and hugged everybody, and got all excited when people would come to see me. Of course, everyone kept asking, "do you remember when...?" I just kept telling them that the last thing I remember was riding down the hallway, going to the OR suite, vague, blurry memories of the hospital room, then being at various houses here and there, during my recovery.
Real surgery is a kick, dude. I'm not scared of it at all. That's hilarious to me, since I used to be petrified of having to have my appendix removed.
It's so weird, thinking that just a few weeks ago, I was looking so forward to having it done. Now, here I am - it's over and done with, and life is back to normal. Well, with several changes, both warranted and unfortunate.
But there's many, many more changes to come. I don't know who will remain a part of my life and who will be left behind. I can't keep living with so many memories that continue to hurt and haunt me. I want so desperately to be happy, but these shackles of sorrow that I drag around weigh me down more than any of you can imagine. Ok, I say that metaphorically. I just mean, none of you know know of the troubles of my mind. You can only truly know of your own suffering.
I think I'm ready to have a normal-ish life. A loving husband who adores me more than the world itself, some little kidlets and pets running around, a house, and the ability to travel and expand my family's worldliness. My dream is to have the kind of family who travels around, helping others, volunteering, working for the betterment of other people, animals and the environment, while still having close, tight ties with our families. Now, you know my secret. That's all I've ever wished for. And, I still feel, for some reason, that I should settle for nothing less.
Will I ever get that? I don't know. The longer time goes on, the more I begin to doubt. I've only loved twice in my life. I don't regret either man. I only regret my actions were less than desireable, and that makes me sad. That saying that hindsight is 20/20 is constantly stuck in my head - unfortunately, always too late.
The definition is: "Perfect understanding of an event after it has happened; - a term usually used with sarcasm in response to criticism of one's decision, implying that the critic is unfairly judging the wisdom of the decision in light of information that was not available when the decision was made."
Nonetheless, God made me, not in His image, but as He made me. All I can do is strive to be better and correct myself, every new day of my life. Hence all the upcoming changes.
But updates will follow, of course.
As for now, BACK TO WORK! *whips crashing*
Currently reading : The Tale of Despereaux: Being the Story of a Mouse, a Princess, Some Soup and a Spool of Thread
By Kate Dicamillo