They Say Time Heals All Wounds

January 12th had to be one of the longest days of my lives . . . literally. Stacey and I arrived at the hospital at NOON, well ahead of my scheduled surgeries at 3pm. I was required to fast from any food or drink before midnight the evening before . . . I swallowed my last spoonful of ice cream at about 10:50pm. And, as soon as we found our way to the surgery check-in and family waiting room, the pleasant aroma of beef and spices was wafting its way toward us--the cafeteria was directly below us. It was pure torture for those of that had had a twisted, tumbling stomach all day. . .

After checking in, Stacey was able to stay with me until about 2:30pm when they took me to the surgery holding room where they got me a warm bed and introduced me to the anesthesiologist and nurses. I remained there until they managed to locate Dr. Genden about 45 minutes later (he had disappeared for a short stint, apparently . . .). After giving me some initial gas to relax me, they wheeled me into the operating room where I professed my unbearable hunger and apparently ordered a cheeseburger and fries from the lead resident before finally releasing myself to the full power of the anesthesia.

I didn't wake again until almost 9pm when I could hear Stacey and the nurses yelling at me in the recovery room. . . they only let Stacey stay with me for about 5 minutes before shooing her to go home. Stacey left just in time . . . the "vomiting cycle" of anesthesia recovery began just minutes after her departure. They finally wheeled me to my room after 10pm . . . I kept crying for food as my stomach was doing somersaults by this point. They finally found me some saltines and jello, which took me only seconds to devour before falling back to sleep.

I tried my best to sleep, but was distracted with nurses waking me hourly to take my stats or to draw blood and a wailing roommate with a broken hip. . . my throat was sore and dry, but luckily they had given me a nerve block to numb my leg completely. The suffering was all worth it though; the surgeries were completely successful and the hospital stay was nearly pain free . . .

Rush, Rush, Rush . . . Now What?

Stacey arrived this week to help me with my surgery and hospital stay. But, we did manage to have a little fun while I was still walking. Stacey's flight arrived on time, but the shuttle company I hired to bring her into Manhattan stalled for more than an hour . . . our original plan was to try to have dinner in Times Square and then to try to get discounted rush tickets to a broadway show. The lottery drawing is held at 5:30pm and when it was nearly 5pm and she still hadn't shown up to my apartment, I was beginning to worry if we would make it?!

She finally buzzed my apartment at 5:05pm; I let her upstairs just long enough to drop off her luggage and then whisked her away in a taxi toward Times Square. Our smart and fast cab driver earned every bit of his tip, getting us to the corner of 46th and Broadway by 5:23pm. We ran to the box office and put our names in the hat just in time for the drawing. We then waited in the bitter wind and cold while they called out the names of the lucky ticket winners. They drew my name early on, securing us two seats for the front row smack dab in the middle of the stage!

We absolutely loved "In the Heights" with its latino inspired soundtrack and modern story. We also managed to find time to enjoy a delicious dinner at Virgil's BBQ, a NYC standard. The weather was absolutely unbearable with temps in the teens after the show, but we survived by bundling up with our scarves and gloves long enough to allow Stacey some Times Square photo opps.

Spending the evening out was a great respite from the worry of what was about to come . . .