You'll call it a procedure, but it's a surgery

 

A few weeks ago as I was straining my brain to come up with a schedule of topics for my column, I noted that I had a surgery scheduled for May 22, so I wrote the word “surgery” as my topic for today.

I don’t know what I was thinking, other than I was pretty desperate to come up with something meaningful to write about. At the time, it didn’t occur to me that writing about my surgery would be a little too personal and of no concern to anyone outside of immediate family and a close circle of friends.

I’m reminded of the scene in the movie “Apollo 13” where astronaut Jim Lovell (played by Tom Hanks), instigates a medical mutiny by ripping off his biomed sensors.

“I am sick and tired of the entire Western world knowing how my kidneys are functioning,” he growls.

When NASA acknowledges that without reprimanding him, the other two astronauts rip off their sensors.

Some things are just meant to be kept private. That’s why doctor-patient confidentiality is so very important. I’m also aware that as people grow older, they tend to be more open about things generally considered TMI (too much information).

I’m also reminded of a scene in “City Slickers” where Billy Crystal’s character gives a deadpan rant about aging to a classroom of elementary school students. In it he says, “In your 50s you’ll have a minor surgery – you’ll call it a ‘procedure’ – but it’s a surgery.”

I’m at that stage of life where I’ve gone through a few “procedures.” Some are more invasive than others. Actually, it’s hard to say what is more invasive – the ones where they cut you open or the ones where they insert medical instruments the wrong way through your digestive orifices?

During my pre-op interviews, the doctors try to get a list of all the other surgeries that I’ve had. Each time the list gets longer. They want to know about metal objects in my body. That list keeps growing as well. They also want to know how I react to anesthesia. I react just fine, thank you. I get to enjoy a really good nap while they do the hard work.

During one of my recent “procedures,” I asked the nurse if they were about to start.

“It’s over. You’re in recovery now,” she said.

You’ve gotta love being able to sleep through something that would otherwise be very painful and discomforting.

Of all the times I’ve been put under for a medical procedure, there is only one time they had difficulty waking me up. The doctors didn’t know it at the time, but it had nothing to do with the anesthesia. It was more than 20 years ago, and I was physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted going into the surgery.

Whenever they tried to revive me afterward, I simply fell back asleep. It wasn’t the drugs conking me out. I was that tired. After several hours in recovery, I finally got irritated enough at having my sleep disturbed that I forced myself to keep my eyes open until they discharged me. I’m pretty sure I dozed on the way home. Sleep never felt so good.

As I write this, there is an incision across the front of my neck covered by some annoying bandages. The procedure I had is called a parathyroidectomy. I had a large, benign tumor on one of my parathyroids that was messing up my calcium levels, among other things. It was discovered as a result of my previous procedure to surgically remove three very large kidney stones.

Until all of this came up, I had never heard of a parathyroid or had any clue what they do. Apparently, they regulate hormones and things like your calcium levels. I’m told that it will take a while for the remaining parathyroids to take over the workload from the one that was removed, so it may be a few weeks before I notice any changes.

In the meantime, I’ve asked my wife to watch for any changes in me. I guess if I start growing boobs, getting hot flashes and walking with a wiggle in my hips that the hormonal recovery isn’t going well. Actually, the changes should be more subtle, such as not having to rush to the bathroom as often, having fewer body aches, and other things that impact the way I feel.

I just wish it would improve my memory and spur my creative juices. As I look at my schedule of column topics, I see that next week is still slated as “to be determined.”