Plan for today: Surgery

I woke up in a narcotic haze on Sunday and was informed that I might not have to wait until Monday for surgery. Awesome. Unfortunately this also meant that I couldn't eat or drink anything. I hadn't eaten anything since my pre-skating ritual of two bananas at 5pm the day before. I hadn't had anything to drink since right before the third period. I was definitely much more thirsty than hungry, but I realized my only nourishment was going to come from licking off the remains of the 16 hour red lipstick that Robin-n-Stealin had put on me before the bout. (The entire time I was in the ER my mom kept saying, "That lipstick is fabulous. Your teeth look so white!" Knowing that I had lipstick on top of my sparkly uniform only made me feel more embarrassed.)

Ok so lipstick and an IV. And Dilaudid. I could deal with that.

I slept most of the day as nurses and doctors and visitors came in and out. My mom arrived bright and early (I think) and got to meet the very peppy Dr. Palmieri who thought that Roller Derby was cool as hell. "Once I fix you up, you'll never break that leg again," she said referring to the metal rod that would be inserted at my knee and screwed in at my ankles.

She made me feel like I'd be on the road to recovering in no time. "Think I can go ahead with the back surgery I have scheduled for the 20th?" I asked.

"Sure!" she said. "Just come in the day before and we'll get you in a boot and you'll be good to go."

Awesome.

She went on to say that since it was a Sunday and there was only one operating crew working there was a good chance that we would be bumped in favor of someone with a life threatening injury. She said she'd make the call by 4pm so I wouldn't starve needlessly.

My sister called at noonish to see if Warren would be picking up the kids soon. "Jiro fell asleep by midnight," she reported, "but Satchel was up watching movies until at least 2am."

"Great."

"And then they all woke up at 6:30am. I'm exhausted."

"Any chance they'll nap?"

"Ha!"

"Well I can only assume that Warren is still asleep since I haven't heard from him," I said.

"I'm giving him 30 minutes then I'm waking him up," she said.

"Sounds like a plan," I said.

Warren did call shortly after our conversation. "It was really weird having the house all to myself," he reported. "I almost didn't know where I was."

I encouraged him to get the monkeys and take them home for a nap rather than coming to hold vigil in the hospital with me. "Come see me later, hopefully after the surgery," I said like an old pro.

Despite birthing my two babies in my bedroom at home, I've spent my share of time in the hospital. There was the car wreck in 1990, reconstructive knee surgery in 1991, something that shall not be shouted on the Internets in 2000, and a miscarriage in 2003. I wasn't scared. I knew the routine.

Between naps I woke up to find Manda Malice by my bedside with a bouquet of flowers from her team, The Angels of Death, and news that she was organizing meal deliveries for the next three weeks.

Awesome.

At 5:30pm someone brought me a meal tray and informed that I had indeed been bumped from the OR. "You can eat and drink until midnight," I was told.

I took a peek at the Saulsberry steak and black-eyed peas under the pink plastic cover and immediately got on the horn with my mom. I took advantage of her love for me and convinced her to swing through Sekisui Pacific Rim on her way to visit me.

Her arrival perfectly coincided with the arrival of the monkeys. Suddenly my dull hospital room was transformed into a medical wonderland repleat with edamame. Satchel looked at me and asked, "Why are you wearing those clothes?"

Jiro looked at the TV and asked, "Where is the remote?"

Satchel sidled up to my bed and examined all the buttons. "What does this button do?" he asked. While I tried to think of an uninteresting response, he said, "I know! It makes the bed blow up!"

"Yeah, please don't push that one."

"Is your leg still broken?"

"Yep."

"They're going to fix it?"

"Yep."

"You just have to stay in the bed?"

"Yep."

Next Warren blew up a rubber glove for each of them and drew on a face with the whiteboard markers. The monkeys chased the balloons around the room and squealed with delight. They were giddy.

I was dizzy.

"Oh my god," I said, "I know what to get you guys for Christmas." I let them have a few more minutes of fun and then I couldn't take anymore. "Sorry, but y'all are going to have to leave," I said.

Warren looked a little lost as he led them out. "I don't know if they are going to make it to school tomorrow," he said.

"It's okay if y'all are late," I said. "Don't think that if you can't get them there by 8:45am that they have to stay home all day." Months and months of flying solo had taught me a few things. I felt bad for him, but I also felt like maybe now he would see what life is like for us when he's on a dig.

"Bye! I love you!" I said as I collapsed back in my bed.