BON'S ANATOMY

One of the really fun things about being on the far side of middle age is that you and your friends get to recreate episodes of Grey’s Anatomy on a regular basis. 

For example, one of my friends has an upcoming knee replacement. A guy my husband plays cards with is looking forward to some rotator cuff repair. And then there's me.

After years of cortisone shots and physical therapy, I finally decided to have back surgery. I was a little concerned, of course. I’ve seen enough TV shows to know that if you check into Grey-Sloane or St. Egregious or Generic County General with an infected hangnail, you will likely end up on a table with Dr. House calling for a crash-cart. 

Ok

Eventually, though, my growing resemblance to Quasimodo made me believe it was time to do something. So I did my research, spoke to friends who’d had similar procedures, interviewed several surgeons, and scheduled the surgery. I was really feeling quite confident about my choices, but then I made a huge mistake. 

I started talking to people. 

This is when I learned that “think before you speak” is a saying that is unfamiliar to many of my acquaintances. My internal responses to their comments also confirmed my suspicion that I am, in reality, a deeply snarky person. For example...

TOP COMMENTS FROM FRIENDS BEFORE SURGERY

(in no particular order)

• You’re having spinal fusion? That sounds awful. (It does? I thought it sounded kind of fun.)

• Did you buy something nice to wear while you’re in the hospital? (Yes! In fact, my first priority was to find a cute little Natori robe with a bright floral pattern.) 

• My friends and I swear by Dr. Schmendrick. What made you choose that doctor? (I dunno. Someone told me he got good reviews on yelp*.) 

•  Oh, I had that surgery and (choose one)— 
• I had to get it redone the next year. 
• My kidneys shut down about 3 days later. 
• A screw came loose from the site and eventually lodged in my pelvis. (Yes, I can easily believe you have a screw loose somewhere.) 

• I’ve never heard of that hospital. Is it any good? (I hope not. I tried to avoid the reputable ones.) 

• Any chance you could be paralyzed? (Any chance I could punch you in the nose?) 

• I always worry about the anesthesia. Like, that maybe I won’t wake up again. (To remove the uncertainty, I could make certain you don’t wake up again.)

• Hope you won’t be in too much pain. I tripped over a curb last week and twisted my ankle and it’s still hurting. (And did it give you a concussion, as well?) 

• Aren’t you worried about getting COVID in the hospital? (I wasn't, but if I do, will you promise to come see me?

Now, I know all these comments actually came from a place of genuine caring and deep love, so I didn’t really take any offense. That said, I don’t plan to publish this article and my snarky thoughts until AFTER my surgery, cause hey, why tempt fate?

So if you’re reading this, I’ve had the procedure and I’m feeling fine. In fact, look who just came into my hospital room:

Or maybe it’s just my husband and the drugs are really good.