I had surgery on my asshole four days ago. It hasn’t been a full 96 hours yet, but it’s close enough. Sitting is a challenge. So are things that rhyme with sitting.
I had to have an anal fistula repaired as part of my “Summertime Middle-Aged Guy Maintenance Plan.” I’ve really got to come up with a better name for that. What the hell kind of initialism is “SMAGMP”? Anyway, to make my “pretirement” health insurance dollar stretch even further, I had some troublesome hemmies removed and got my 55-year colonoscopy performed at the same time. I do so love one-stop shopping.
The surgery wasn’t terrible. The nerves leading up to it were. Despite my sudden lack of coffee, salt, and alcohol, my blood pressure was dangerously high for a while. Now that surgery is over, it’s back to where it was. It’s still high, but not “red zone” high. I go back to the cardiologist this week to deal with that.
Because there was a colonoscopy involved, my innards had to be cleaned out, which means colonoscopy prep. This time I had something called “Suprep,” which was honestly the best medical Drain-O I’ve ever had. Very gentle. Totally did the trick without the usual cramping and spontaneous "walks of urgency".
My surgery was performed at one of the 8 billion surgical centers we have in the Houston metropolitan area. Nice place. Friendly staff. Professional. Once you get over the whole “assembly line” vibe, it’s really quite breathtaking.
Speaking of breathtaking, I had to have a breathing tube inserted during anesthesia. That sucked, at least recovery-wise. Probably worse than the surgery itself—at least on day one. I do not recommend.
On the plus side of “breathtaking,” I got to experience fentanyl for the first time ever. That was an amazing experience. They gave me some before the propofol, and I got to “enjoy” it. It was really fun at first, like when you’re out drinking and you notice that first bit of buzz has become something more. Then it becomes way too much, way too fast—like you kept right on throwing back shots after you noticed you were drunk. I felt trashed and could not wait for the anesthesia to kick in. Don’t get me wrong—I like getting trashed, not actually being trashed.
I also learned that there is such a thing as an anesthesia hangover. The first day post-op was truly the worst, and it had little to do with my surgery or post-op regimen and more to do with my body reeling from the stress of the run-up, and then the physical and chemical assault it sustained.
The second day wasn’t terrible. At least I’m pretty sure. I got a Roku for an old HD monitor I don’t use and stuck it in the upstairs bedroom. Even with Roku, TV is dull. I very quickly went from series to series—favorites, all of them—and nothing grabbed my attention. Maybe because I hadn’t had coffee or beer or joy for several days, I dunno. So I turned my attention to stuff I hadn’t seen in a while and wound up with Amazon’s version of The Tick. It was in the watching I discovered how important the human asshole is in laughing. Oh, dear God, the pain. And because I respond to pain with laughter, I had a really good time until I couldn’t take it any longer and discovered America’s Test Kitchen. Finally, a cooking show I can respect. Old school, yet informative. No hyperbole, just low-key information.
By day three—yesterday—I’d had enough of the TV bullshit. Also, laying down or trying to sit. I cook when I’m restless, so I decided I needed a sandwich. Specifically, a Croque Madame. And naturally, I had to make bread because our store-bought diet bread wasn’t going to cut it. The subsequent video is below. I wanted to see if I could do the whole thing on my phone. Turns out I can.
Bread was OK. Crumb was good, crust was not. I’ve never managed to get a good, crispy crust at home. So annoying. Sandwich was really good, despite having only low-fat milk for the béchamel.
Here we are now at day four, and I’m actually sitting at my desk typing this. Not comfortably, mind you, but I return to my day job tomorrow and sitting is a must. I can’t afford a standing desk right now, and even if I could, I’m still not allowed to lift anything heavy to get it all set up, so I’m going to dance with the date what brung me.
I don’t think I’m cooking today. Yesterday was fun, because it was done in defiance of my asshole, my pain, and the exciting new lifestyle changes I need to embrace—but it may have been a bit much. But I'll tell you what…
Y’all go cook something.;)
