Surgery, why?

Well, here it is, a week after surgery and people are wondering, "How's it going, Copier guy?" It goes much better than I expected. It goes much better than the nurses, surgeon and family expected. Before surgery, I was apprehensive about the recovery, not the surgery. I wanted this surgery! Before surgery, every morning became a new adventure in pain. Excruciating, debilitating pain. No matter how cautious I was, it would hit - and hit hard. Even in the middle of taking a step. Some of you had seen me when it hit and offered to assist but there wasn't anything you could do. Nerves were being severely pinched, even for a second and it would take 5-10 minutes for that to subside. This would go on for several hours every morning before I was "work functional". Resting just prolonged the progress to "work functional". The only relief would have been heavy duty narcotics which would have floored me, something I didn't want. I just started getting up hours earlier to get me through the transistion from Night Gravity to Morning Gravity. My Neurosurgeon, Doctor Alberstone, had a very heavy schedule and put my surgery 35 days ahead. I really didn't think I could go that long. Mentally, I crossed each day off an imaginary calendar as the surgery date got closer. I had a talk with my subconscious and struck a deal that it would help keep me out of known position that brought on the extreme pain. For the most part, it worked. Mostly good mornings, some with really bad "Morning Gravity" as I came to call it. Three days before surgery, I put myself on a "clear liquid diet" to avoid having nurses to bring bedpans and wipe my butt for the first few days after surgery. (It worked great but, man, oh man, was I starving for solid food.) Black Cherry Jell-o and clear fruit juice gets really annoying after three days. The surgery was postponed for almost 5 hours as the 2 hour surgery before mine went slowly. Charlene sent a hilarious e-mail to most of you about me begging for coffee in pre-op, trying to bribe for coffee in pre-op, even grabbing a "pre-op Doctor's Orders" form next to my bed and writing down that Dr. Albestone ordered Starbucks coffee for me prior to surgery. I forged his name and gave it to the pre-op nurse. She thought it was funny and threatened to turn me in if I didn't stop demanding coffee. Finally, the Anesthesiologist came in, did his talk, ordered a "put this idiot asleep" shot. I was down like a dog at a vet's office. My surgeon came in, talked with Charlene, marked the spot with a Sharpie and left for the O.R. The surgery, which was supposed to be 2 hours long, ended up being over 4 hours. Great Surgeon, great job, it's just that he had a lot more work to do on this old back of mine than was initially expected. Working around the spinal cord means you gotta be real careful, which he was. He did a totally excellent job (to quote "Bill and Ted"). I'm glad he took the time to do it right. Hey, I didn't know, I was asleep. I came to in the recovery room, not really groggy, just thirsty. I ask for coffee, they refused. I ask for ice chips, they countered with a glycerin swab (I refused - I mean, how do you drink a glycerin swab? That would be worse than a fish bone caught in your throat). After about an hour of me whining, they took me to my room. I've already written about that night (see "The Hospital Stay, Part One" below).