Pre-op nerves setting in

My total hip replacement is at 7:30 AM Monday. Up until today, I have kept busy with a steady stream of appointments and chores. Now I am wandering the condo in search of something to occupy my anxious brain. I am eating lightly the next few days, so food is not the answer. I need to stop reading the “You and your hip prosthesis!” pamphlet now. Auditioning music for when I am in the OR, right now I am listening to Radiohead. Next - gentle Buddhist music with lots of chimes and such.

All I can think about is meMeME. And I am taking surgical tape and writing “other hip please” and putting it on my non-operative one. I don’t care if nobody thinks it’s funny anymore. Just covering my bases.

Sat in the DMV yesterday, waiting to get my disabled parking sign, and it was the exact scene in Beetleljuice where he’s in the waiting room and has number 30 million or something similar written on his tag. Wow. OK, now that I’ve breathed in everyone’s germs, let’s get this party started.

Actively soliciting good wishes, funny stories, pictures of kittens and all assorted warm fuzzies from the good people here. Going to be a long 36 hours…

May whatever gods there be guide your surgeon’s hands! Sending warm supporting thoughts your way! :slight_smile:

Actually, many hospitals are having the patient help them with avoiding problems of wrong-site surgery, by having the patient watch as the appropriate body part is marked with a marker on the skin.

Good luck! A friend of mine had both of his hips replaced, one after the other, and he’s just so thrilled at the result. I’m hoping for similarly good results for you too.

How about some cute bunnies?

Even more bunnies.

I hope your surgery goes swimmingly! Enjoy your nifty new titanium hip. If I have to get a new hip, I’ll start making sproingy noises like the Six Million Dollar man every time I move. This would be a big hit with the doctors, I’m sure.

I screwed up the link–try this.

No funny stories just now, Beck, sorry, but lots and lots of good wishes.

Don’t worry, they do these all the time. No big.

You’re doing what I do, keep busy. I make detailed lists of things to do because having a plan makes me happy. Then I clean and then clean the clean. Once the cleaned clean is clean, I block it out, which is easy because I am a world class procrastinator and can even put off worrying.

The worst part of the whole surgery thing, for me, is when I’m lying there waiting for the anesthesiologist. That’s when I decide maybe I don’t want to have this surgery and it’s not too late to jump up and run away. I just tell myself that this was a good idea back when I planned the surgery and nothing has happened to change that. Then they give me very good drugs and stuff and the next thing I know, I’m waking up in my room.

Try to look at this whole thing as an adventure; something new and actually pretty wonderful. Focus on the good part of this surgery. You’re getting a new hip! Much less ouchiness! Cool metal parts like the Terminator! Freaking people out with surgery stories! Tepid hospital jello!

You’re going to be fine.

Okay, so my girlfriend and I bought a new Scion xA that I’m just enamoured with. It’s so cute! So. We went out to dinner a few weeks ago; and, after parking in the lot; were looking it over with admiration and mutual ups to each other for making such a good choice. Being rather stupid and goofy, I made a comment about how our new car is so cute and rakish and just downright sexy that I wouldn’t mind humping it.

So I did. Because me humping the car would be funny, you see, and give my girlfriend a laugh.

You know what’s next.

For some ungodly reason, the diner people had decided to have the shades pulled on all of the windows that day, and every. last. effing. person was looking out, watching me sexually molest my car.


Also, as soon as I quit smoking, I’m going to rescue some guinea pigs. There’s nothing as stupid or as cute as a guinea pig. It says so in the Bible. I think. Except maybe this picture.

…nah. The pig still wins.

Good luck on your surgery.

Mmmf. Thinking about surgery is not fun.

But it is sort of like going off a high diving board. You can sort of break the task up. First, step off the end of the board - that doesn’t hurt - then start thinking about the next phase. Similarly, there is just about nothing as pleasant or painless as getting anesthetised.

I’m having nervous thoughts about my own impending back surgery. I hear hip replacement is more predictably successful, though, which is something to look forward to.

Try being impatient to have the problem fixed. It’s much nicer thinking about having the problem fixed.

I don’t listen to enough music, and I also never listen to National Public Radio because I live between two stations on the same frequency and it just flutters uselessly back and forth. But I decided I needed some kind of soul balm like that, and I couldn’t sleep, so I went on to and looked up little bookshelf stereos to put in my bedroom, and ordered one that is cheap, well reviewed, and simple and unpretentious looking. Now I must deal with what to pick to listen to. This is a nice problem to work on.

Have you grown, as I have, to like shopping online and not having to go out in pain? I just ordered a book about telescopes (was an amateur astronomer and would like to start again to share with the kids and grandkids). And I got a new multimeter with a temperature function, and a little frame that holds my laptop computer above me while I lie on my back (it’s great), and if I can find one I will order a nightstand so Posie the cat doesn’t drive me nuts throughout recuperation by digging all my toiletries and medicines out of the wicker basket on the bedside table - man, do I need a drawer.

I see these things as harmless diversions, and am motivated to iron out little problems like these that I put off for years.

You could learn to program - I’m getting a copy of VisualBasic - it’s a good step to be taking at work and I’m not gonna get many stretches this undistracted.

If you get really bored, you can research your meds on the web. I studied oxycodone for a while, and found a zillion sites. A third of them are trying to sell it illegally without a prescription. Another third of them are about overcoming addiction. The remaining third are about overcoming addiction, plus, where to get yours for less without a prescription while you’re working on the addiction.

See? There’s lots to do…

Best wishes from me for your surgery, beckwall. It will all go very well.

That was me nine days ago. And the fact that I’m a difficult IV start made things worse. So, I ended up crying soundless tears before my surgeon came to talk to me. All went well, though, because they gave me some versed before pumping in the real anesthetic. I said, “What did you just give me, versed?” And as soon as they replied with a “yes,” I felt the soft, fuzzy coziness wash over me. The last thing I remember saying was, “Mmmm… I like versed.” Then I was in the recovery room, getting those nifty warmed blankets spread over my body. Man, those friggin’ blankies are sweet!

The recovery is undoubtedly much easier on the mind than the pre-op time. Beckwall, you’ll be just fine. Good luck!

Oh yeah… you’ll be like this little guy when they start your anesthesia.

Whenever I hear someone talking like this about Versed, I get really bummed that it doesn’t do a damned thing for me! OTOH, those blankets are sweet, and when I hit the lottery (I’ll have to start actually playing the lottery first!), I plan on buying a blanket warmer like that for every floor of my opulent house!

Ooops, hit reply too soon! Good luck with the surgery, beckwall. For me, the good thing is that I lose sleep a couple of nights before surgery, so by the night before I’m so exhausted that nothing keeps me awake!

I fully expect that next time I read one of your OPs, it’ll be written through the comfy haze of Percocet!

Really? Bummer!

I’m with ya, baby

Yeah, everyone keeps talking about how wonderful Versed is, but the last time I had a procedure, I told the anasthesiologist to just skip it, because it doesn’t do anything for me. So he skipped it, and I didn’t notice any difference at all. Oh well.

But the blanket ovens, I could easily get hooked on those!

The last time I had surgery, I don’t know what it was, but when I was waiting in pre-op somebody came along (the anesthesiologist, I think) and put something in my IV. I think I asked him if it was a sedative or something, and he said yes. A few seconds later, the room sort of tilted sideways. The next thing I remember was waking up afterwards. I don’t remember going back to the operating room at all. Nothing.

And those warm blankets are the best things ever.

beckwall, last surgery I had was wisdom teeth, more than 25 years ago. All of this talk of warm blankies is almost making me wish I could have surgery. So, you go in there, enjoy the warm blankies for me, and come back out with SUPERHIP!

Lots of prayers and warm thoughts headed your way.


I had the third surgery on my right ear about a year and a half ago. By now, surgery has become old hat. Rehab will probably be more painful, but more rewarding.
I do recall, though, several things that happened that day. The first was that about four different nurses came in to check and make sure that I was, in fact, Hung Mung who would have a right-ear operation (cholesteatoma, a benign tumor in the middle ear. Also, they had to replace the malleus, incus and stapes as well as graft me an eardrum. Fun for everyone, including the doctor who probably got a new yacht out of my ass).
I was there with my parents (I was 20) to keep company. Some of the nurses would stay and chat, others bustled along. One nice lady stayed and talked to us. She was a short, stout and boisterous black lady who claimed to be 60 years old. I swear, she didn’t look a day over 35 or 40.
Anyhoo, the 'rents and I start to talk to her and she tells us about a nephew or grandson who has just come to live with her so she can help him get straightened out. Apparently the kid’s parents are idiots and couldn’t control him. My parents are teachers and so sympathize completely with trying to get through to a crazy kid. Bear in mind, the nurse is checking my temperature and blood pressure and stuff the whole time. She says offhand while pumping squeeze-thing on my arm,“Like the other day. I try to stop his cussing and dirty talk, but he pushed me over the edge. He says 'the P-word,” and then mouths the word p-u-s-s-y. “Now if he had said cunt, I wouldn’t have gotten so mad.” My mom and I exchanged a glance of “Holy crap. Did she say that?” I could only nod numbly and say “Yeah. Yeah, I know what you mean.” A 60 year old black nurse who finds ‘cunt’ less offensive than ‘pussy’. Amazing.
Later on, when they started to prep me in a different room they gave me two stickers, one saying ‘YES’ and one that said ‘NO’. The YES sticker I put under my right ear. I held up the NO sticker to my mom and said “I’ll put this one on my butt.” She got a pretty big kick out of that. They’d already put some ‘happy medicine’ in my IV at that point, so I blame that little incident on the drugs.
Those are the highlights from my last operation. I’m sure you’ll do just fine.

Wow. Hope you had some anesthesia for that. :wink: