When you're having any type of medical procedure, I love how they tell you to get to the hospital three hours before the doctor even wakes up.  There were some "no shows" today, so Davis got bumped up, but it's usually like, "We're going to need you to get here at 5:30 sharp, so that we can get started promptly at 11:30 just before you expire from hunger and thirst".  I could never work at a hospital.  They get started way too early around there and I can tell you that you wouldn't want me to do any kind of work on you at 6:00 am.  I was starting to wish that I was having something done, so at least, I could go back to sleep like Davis was getting to do.   

While he was gone, I was on Pinterest and Facebook trying to pass the time, but it didn't take long for my phone battery to wane.  I had my charger, but you know you can't just go unplugging things in a hospital room.  There I was, inspecting the assortment of plugs...."Let's see now... this gray one looks like it may be only marginally important....Ooops....sorry." 

While my phone charged, I began to entertain myself with other things in the room.  The view of the city was nice for about 2 minutes.  An episode of "Frasier" zapped another half hour.  Then I found this chart and tried to rate the pain I was in from getting up so early.  I was ready with my answer had the nurse asked me.....I was going to go with 8.  The "8" face seemed to best describe the way I was feeling.

And let's talk about hospital gowns for a moment.  Why even bother?  They provide no sense of privacy.  When you check in, they might as well just say...."Just take off your clothes and get over it", because a hospital gown has never helped anyone's feelings of modesty.  And nobody looks good in them.....except on "The Young and the Restless".  Ever notice how soap opera characters are always in the hospital?  And even when they're in a coma, they look stunning and somehow when they come out of surgery at the Genoa City General Hospital, they don't look like a crack addict with Cyndi Lauper hair like the rest of us. 

I was glad when they finally brought him back to the room.  That was entertainment in itself.  I thoroughly enjoyed the post anesthesia Davis.  I don't think he's talked that much in our whole married life.  Let's see.....he talked about retirement, turkey hunting, the benefits of synthetic oil, and coffee.  Then he talked about retirement, turkey hunting, the benefits of synthetic oil, and coffee.  Then he talked about retirement, turkey hunting, the benefits of synthetic oil, and coffee.  I was so ready for the amnesia property of the anesthesia to wear off. 

I don't really claim to be a great nurse, but every now and then, I think it's good for couples to have to care for one another in their compromised states...helping put on shoes, feeding them chicken, holding IV bags, and putting the straw to their mouth.  It's good practice, I think, for the coming golden years.  Let's face it......one day, one of us will end up being the straw holder and the other the straw sucker.  That's just the way life usually ends up in marriages.  With Davis' commitment to good health, I expect that I'll be the straw sucker.  Either way, you do what you gotta do. 

Anyway, we're home, settled in, and doped up, so we're all good.....unless this recovery drags out too long, at which point, I may have to dip into some of these pill bottles.  Hopefully, this surgery will provide some relief for me......I mean Davis.... yeah, hopefully this surgery will provide some relief for Davis.

In all seriousness, I'm glad that's over for him and that he's doing well.  It's my privilege to take care of someone who always takes such good care of me.