Anytime I have to spend time in the hospital, unless I’m there to bring life into the world, I am struck with anxious thoughts. Hospital staff strip me of my access to social media, my cell phone, and smut magazines and I am left alone with my own thoughts.
My mind races between thoughts of my own mortality and farting while under aesthetic. I think about being 80 and laying in a hospital bed alone, no one visiting me, trying to shimmy into a pull up while I beg for a hug from strangers.
This visit to the hospital was no different. I was left alone in the day surgery room after being prepped and the thoughts raced through my head. I began to think about how exposed I would be on the operating table. Would they see my whole body? Were there going to be men in the room? Should I do some pre-op push ups?
In order to put myself at ease I discussed with a nurse. She put me at ease by reassuring me my vaj would not be exposed. BUT, she forgot to tell me there would be men in the room and my boob would flop out on the table like a dead fish.
I was given some pre-op pain killers, and as I mentioned in a previous post, I do not do well with pain killers. I began to get a little loopy, a little drowsy. My glasses were taken away in preparation for the surgery and I was blind.
But I could still see him!
Three’s Company’s Jack Tripper.
Through my drugged stooper, no glasses, hospital anxiety I saw Jack Tripper.
And there is no way he was porting me to the operation room! I knew his suave ways! I knew about his bedroom eyes, but I had no time for flirting with the 70’s.
My turn to go to surgery came Jack was no where to be seen and I was at ease, although the girl who took me down could have very well been Janet.
The next time I opened my eyes I felt pain, intense pain. I was groggy, tired, and confused.
I tried to focus my on an object to get a sense of where I was and suddenly my eyes found him. There was Jack giving me the sexy eye from across the room.
He knew I was vulnerable.
I let the aesthetic take over, and I gave into him, I have no idea what happened.
I can only assume the worst.
Jack Tripper stole my Gal Bladder.