The Hand Surgery

A few weeks ago, I finally got around to having a cyst removed from my right hand. It was about the size of a pea and for the most part, it didn't really bother me. But every now and then, it would give me excruciating pain. For instance, if I shook hands with someone with a extra firm handshake and they squeezed my cyst, it would almost make me cry. But knowing it would put a serious ding in my masculinity, I would just grin and bear it.

Anyway, I went to a local surgery center for the procedure. I was told that it was a minor "operation" which would require only a local anesthesia. This sounded good to me because I don't like to be "put under". So, I checked in at the front desk and filled out various forms in the waiting area. I could overhear several people bitching about having to wait so long. This always annoys me. It's like they think they're more important than anyone else in the room. There was one woman, in pajama bottoms, who seemed especially irritated. I guess she was running late for the DVD sale at Walmart.

After about an hour after my scheduled appointment time, I was finally called back to the prep area. I passed several small cubicles which had the curtain closed. I was somewhat relieved to hear no screaming or moaning. I was escorted to the last cube where I was told to take a seat.

After a few minutes, a doctor's aide came in and had me sign a few more forms. She also took my blood pressure. She commented on my "big bicep". I haven't been to the gym in two or three years, so I think she was just bullshitting me. But it still made me feel good as I fought the urge to flex my upper arm muscle.

Eventually, the doctor comes in. Somewhat surprising, he asks me what I'm here for today. Wasn't he expecting me? So, I explain my predicament, and he says, "Ok, I'll be back in a few minutes and we'll get you numbed up."

I figure he's going to shoot some Novocaine into my hand using one of those small needles that the dentists use. However, a few minutes later, the doctor returns with something that looks more like a Super Soaker. It was a large syringe that was loaded up with a clear liquid. My instant reaction was, "Whoa! WTF is that?"

He smiled and said, "Trust me, this is the worst part."

As he prepared to stick me, he told me that it was going to hurt. I instinctively gritted my teeth. He slowly pushed the needle into my palm. It hurt like hell but I tried to conceal my pain. He continued to push on the plunger, emptying the contents of the needle into my defenseless hand. Although this only lasted for about 20 seconds, it felt like an entire afternoon.

About 15 minutes later, half of my right hand became numb. The doctor's aide came back in and asked me to sign another form. Kinda hard to do with a hand that has no feeling. But I did the best I could. The signature was barely legible. But then again, I don't have the best handwriting, even on a good day.

Eventually, I'm called back to the "operating room". This in itself is quite weird because it's the first time that I've ever walked into an O.R. On all previous occasions, I've been dressed in a hospital gown and wheeled in on a gurney. So, as I walk through the door, I'm greeted by two doctors and a nurse. I'm told to lay on the table and extend my right arm. Before I knew it, one of the doctors began to slap a yellow liquid all over my arm, from my hand up to my elbow. I was told that this was some type of disinfectant. I explained that I shower regularly but the guy didn't seem to care as he continued to "disinfect" me.

When I was sufficiently disinfected, my arm was positioned on a small extension of the cushioned table. The two doctors wasted no time and went right into action. I could feel them pulling on my hand but I felt no pain. The two doctors were whispering to each other which made me very nervous. Then, the main doctor said, "Ok, we're in. You want to take a look at it?"

Now, I've seen enough Quentin Tarantino movies to numb my general fear over bloody carnage. However, glancing at my filleted hand was something that didn't interest me. I told the doctor to just do his thing and I would take a look after he closed it up.

The whole "operation" took about five minutes. My hand was bandaged and wrapped up in an Ace bandage. I was told that I could expect to experience some pain after the numbness wore off so the doctor prescribed some pain killers. I wound up taking a couple pills the first night as a pre-caution but the pain was pretty much non-existent.

Of course, I still had to wear the bandage for a few days. This is always awkward when you go out in public. People will inevitably ask, "Wow, what happened to your hand?" Now, I could be honest and give them the real answer. But who wants to hear about a boring cyst? So, I had fun making up more "exciting" stories. For instance, I told a Walgreen's cashier that I got into a scuffle with a couple of much larger guys. I explained that I saw these two thugs trying to steal a young girl's puppy. I approached them and told them to leave the girl alone. Then, the one guy turned toward me and pulled out a switchblade knife. I yelled to the girl to take her puppy and go! As the girl ran to safety, I broke into a Bruce Lee-style roundhouse and kicked the knife out of the guy's hand. I wish someone would have caught it on video because it was that impressive! Anyway, as the second guy approached me, I rattled off a series of popcorn jabs, followed by bone-crushing hay maker to his skull. Not realizing the power of my "big bicep", I wound up breaking my hand on that final blow to the guy's head. But as long as the little girl and her puppy were safe, that's all that really mattered......Amazingly, the young cashier appeared to believe me.

Hey. when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Or at least make up a good story.....:-)

kw