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"So how are you feeling?" the doctor asked with a smile.
My knees haven't felt this good in years, I wanted to tell her. But I didn't.
About the only good part of getting a hernia fixed is the lack of physical activity, which does wonders for the old joints.
I was visiting Dr. Alexis Driggs last week at her office at Walla Walla Clinic to discuss my progress since she performed hernia repair surgery on me the week before.
She said everything looked good, and I told her I felt as good as one could expect to feel a week after having his guts sliced open with a sharp blade. I took lots of Advil, I said, and I went through enough ice to rebuild a small glacier.
Then the doc said something only a medical nerd could come up with: "You had a very interesting hernia."
"Thanks," I replied, figuring I should take it as a compliment.
She proceeded to describe some sort of bizarre intestinal defect known asw a "pantaloon." I also had some other sort of abdominal complication that I didn't quite understand, and I'm happy to leave it that way.
The end result is that I now have two pieces of plastic mesh implanted permanently in my abdominal region. And the doctor assured me my recovery will be no worse than if I had had a "normal" hernia. I'll be able to lift whatever I want about four weeks from now. (Until then, no housework for me!)
Dr. Driggs joined the surgical staff at Walla Walla Clinic last year. She is obviously very knowledgeable about hernias, and she was very professional and patient with my dumb questions. If you're ever presented with the opportunity to have yourself cut open by a surgeon, I couldn't recommend anyone more highly.
On the morning of my special day, the first doctor to talk to me was the anesthesiologist. I didn't catch his name. (I was about to be anesthetized, so that wasn't an important piece of information at the moment.)
"It's pie day!" he announced cheerfully as I was getting ready to enter the operating room. You can't imagine how much better that made me feel. I had visions of waking up after surgery to a cart full of wonderful slices of cherry, blackberry, pumpkin, etc., from which to choose. They do try to make this experience as pleasant as they can, I thought to myself. I was hoping there'd be ice cream too.
But it turned out I had misunderstood him. What he actually said was, "It's pi day!" My surgery took place on March 14, so those readers who did well in math will understand what he meant. That clinic is thick with nerds.
Bottom line: no pie; or ice cream. But in spite of my disappointment, I was treated to a nice cookie and a little dish of applesauce in the recovery room. Not quite the same thing, but it still tasted good. And best of all hellip; coffee! It was my first coffee of the day, and I stayed for a second cup.
Then I went home. The fun began about 9:30 a.m. and I was back in Dayton by 2.
I've gotten my money's worth from Amazon and Netflix movies the past couple of weeks, but vacation time is over. Unfortunately, my job as a newspaper editor involves no heavy lifting, so I'm back.
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