An Update

Posted on by Sarah A. Hoyt

We interrupt the scheduled program for an update on the state of the Sarah.

So, I had surgery Monday, and first I want to say that the anesthesia was a oh, wow. Partly, I was lucky getting an anesthesiologist with a sense of humor. When I told him I started problems with anesthesia by not going under with chloroform (Portugal 65) he solemnly promised me not to use chloroform.

But the fact is he put me under at 2:30 and next I was aware of was at 7, and I was very cold, and they were piling blankets on me. (Took till 9 for my temperature to stabilize.)

I’m sure he talked to me before that, because he said I should be able to partly respond to him as I left the OR. I have no memory of this and am somewhat curious about it. You see, I’ve been known to answer from deep in a story, where someone talks to me while asleep. Like, say, Dan comes in to the bedroom, doesn’t realize I’m asleep, and says “Sarah, did you see my wallet?” He’s likely as not to get “Oh, Dragons. Yeah. You kill them with magnets.” Or something of the sort.

Don’t care. Though there might be an anesthesiologist wandering around town going “But she seemed like SUCH a nice lady.”

Hopefully I didn’t regale him with my political musings, but who knows?  I hope he had his asbestos underpants on.

Anyway – sat up for the first time middle of the night, and was raring to go by morning, so they let me come home. Where I promptly passed out for several hours.

They sent me home with Super Motrin! Or something like that, by prescription only. I’ve been taking it religiously every 8 hours. They also sent me home with one of the many variants of morphine and that I’ve been trying to avoid taking, because as always it makes me woozy and useless. (I say I have a sensitivity to it, but I don’t know if that’s true. It’s entirely possible that’s how it’s supposed to work.)

I’ve been editing, between bouts of sleeping ( a lot of bouts of sleeping.)

Yesterday I had to take the opiates because the alternative was curling up in a ball and crying like a little girl – and that meant I slept a lot, and at night had a very weird dream about a guy named Eno and one named Pepto, in a murder mystery set some hardscrabble farm in rural Colorado.

My first thought on waking up was “Pepto didn’t do it” and the second was “I’m tickled pink” which as you see is a good reason to avoid the strong stuff.

Today I’m feeling better. Not pain free, but bearable with Motrin, and I’ve finished editing, and I’m hoping to get some writing done in the missing Through Fire chapters, so I can finally deliver this thing.

I took a mile walk (could use better weather) and am doing laundry.

Now on what was wrong… More was wrong than we thought. Apparently my first caesarean really was butchery and things weren’t… right. Which makes second son even more of a miracle. (We just wish we knew WHICH side.) The first one too, I suppose, since we probably should both have died.

Over the years there’s been explosive scarring in my abdominal cavity as well as hormone-bearing tissue which probably is responsible for some if not all of my… interesting health issues. (Not the respiratory ones, though there’s something as always being a little under.)

I didn’t realize I’ve been in low level (mostly, sometimes medium level) pain most of these years, until I was given pain killers. Sleeping without pain is… different.

Most of this pain should go away once it’s healed. Right now it feels like someone scoured my body cavity with an exacto knife. Which I gather is not exactly true. They use scalpels.

And that’s about it. If I don’t answer your emails/am late on stuff poke me with sharp sticks, as I still only have at best half a brain.

But… the state of the writer is improving.

And now I work.

 

338 thoughts on “An Update”

  1. I am glad to hear that you are okay, and that you came through it fine. My only problem with anesthesia is that the type the use now makes me very nauseous. But if I warn them before hand, they do something which stops that from being an issue.
    And please, do take it easy for a while, abdominal muscles do connect to a lot of things, so don’t hurt yourself.
    Hurt the kids and the husband! That’s why they’re there, right? ;-)

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    1. My only problem with anesthesia is that the type the use now makes me very nauseous.

      Every damn time I’ve had a procedure that required a general, I woke up vomiting my guts out. I’ve warned them about that and they promised “stuff” but so far none of it has worked. Well, okay, last time was nose surgery and the nature of that is such that you tend to swallow blood and blood is an emetic (well, human blood is anyway–so my hopes of vampirism are forever dashed) so that may have been a special case.

      IV sedations are my particular bugaboo. I come out of them early.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I would, but I’m perpetually under-slept, so the only time I had IV Anesthesia (I was getting my teeth removed so I could get dentures), I didn’t wake up until he was pushing my head down and twisting it while trying to remove on of my lower front teeth. No, he wasn’t trying to reposition it, that’s the result of the pressure he was putting on the tooth. Needless to say I was not amused, but I went back to sleep after those two were gone.

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      2. It was cool laying there “under” amnesia watching the monitors where the little wires they ran up the femoral artery poked around in my heart, burning out little bits of tissue that were trying to beat my heart to death. There was just one time I said, very calmly, “OK… Ow. Ow. Ow.”

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        1. I remember saying on two occasions, when my wisdom teeth were coming out, that I was fine in response to questions. Though nothing else.

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    2. Had three surgeries in the last 15 years (the second one to fix what didn’t get done right the first time).

      The first time used fentanyl; switched me off like a light bulb, and some time later I switched back on, no period of slowly waking up. They side I might feel a little nauseated for a while afterward. Oldest daughter drove me home, and I had my head resting on the open window sill all the way home. Never lost my cookies (or anything else I might have had for a week previous), but not for lack of feeling like it was about
      to happen.

      (Spetsnaz probably used fentanyl to knock out the the hostages and the hostage takers in the 2002 Dubrovka theater event. They got all the attackers, but 130 of 850 hostages died, mostly by inhaling vomitus, in reaction to the gas.)

      My two subsequent surgeries used something else that worked perfectly; wish I could remember what was used, but didn’t write it down.

      Vicodin, by the way, is brewed by the devil.

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      1. There are a lot of painkillers out there where people have trouble if they have allergies to corn or yeast. Which I found out, because of my mom’s fun allergies to corn and yeast. (Usually not anything in the drug itself, but just in the fillers to hold the pill together, or the capsules they put them in.)

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          1. I don’t remember what strength it was when I had the infected tooth, but I have 7.5 sitting on the counter right now. When my leg first started hurting to the point I couldn’t do anything, I was taking 1 of the vicodin every 4 hours, and alternating that with 600 mg of ibuprofen every four hours, so that I was taking something every 2 hours. It barely kept me sane. I was only supposed to take the vicodin every 6 hours, but I thought it would ease up in a couple of days…

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                1. Yeah, I was thinking it would add up more than it does. 800 mg every 6 hours adds up to 3200 per day, while 600 mg every 4 hours only adds up to 3600 per day. Not as bad as I was thinking at the time.

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                2. Are you taking that with food, lots of food? I was taking 600s 4x/day–ate a hole in my duodenum. That’s a dangerous level.

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                  1. They hand out Vitamin M like that because it’s the one with the least dangerous OD results– chewing up your gut. And that OD result can be largely ignored. (Not by the person suffering it, by the medical folks.)

                    It’s slightly safer for younger folks, but yeah– it’s ugh.

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        3. I have had four surgeries in thirteen months ending December 2014. Since the this last one I have openly testified, ‘Thank God for narcotics.’

          I was reticent to take the narcotics, as I don’t like the disconnect I feel with the brain. The doctors began to insist. I didn’t have to take much, but they made all the difference when I needed them.

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      3. I had multiple surgeries for bone grafts to do a dental implant and my body kept rejecting both the implant and the bone grafts. I did them all under topical but then they gave me Vicodin to take home. While it does work for me I really, really hate taking that stuff. It just makes me feel wrong. It does work better to take with a shot (or five) of Jack but I pretty much only take it just before going to sleep.

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  3. Glad to hear that you are OK and even more so that you will be better than before.

    Re: morphine. According to a friend who is sensitive to it, sensitivity to it causes it to make you irritable rather than releiving pain. If you were sensitive, I would suggest avoiding carp while under the influence for the safety of those around you.

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        1. Oh, it’s good to hear you came through in good shape.

          Opiates give me the classic heartbeat, temperature, and blood pressure elevation reaction. I’ve never tried morphine: my last experience with codeine was enough to put me off opiates forever. Each generation in my family seems to add a new set of allergies to medicines to the list.

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      2. My late hubby blew up like a water balloon, got angry, and began ripping off his clothing *sigh So we learned that he had a severe sensitivity to morphine.

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  5. Some of the available blades for X-Acto knives are shaped almost exactly like scalpels.

    Just sayin. :-)

    Glad you’re already feeling up to getting up and around, but don’t rush yourself. Or, as I read somewhere: Make haste slowly.

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  6. Sharp sticks? One might think you’d had enough sharp pokings for the near future…

    How about blunt fingers? With the focused obsession of a 3-year-old wanting attention?

    poke-poke-poke-poke-poke-poke-poke….

    Hm? No, I didn’t want anything.

    :twisted:

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                1. My kids do why, but at least they almost always add the rest of the sentence now: “but Mom, why can’t we go back in time and kill our grandfather?”

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              2. At some point you have to start saying “Hell if I know; look it up.”

                Admittedly, I’m neither a father nor a teacher, but I have had some success with that.

                At least, the mothers grabbed the little darlings and got them the hell way from me, which I count as a win ;-)

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                2. Thus far we let one or two, max, “why”s go through– then they get the lecture about spending at least as much effort on the question as they’d expect the person they’re asking to spend in answering it. (Which is an elaborate way of doing the why/because/why/because cycle, with a chance of getting through to my family. The idea of that’s rude is very strong on my thus-far-most-dangerous child.)

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              3. For some reason, my nephew and my godson only ask me “Why is ____?” once each.

                It might have something to do with the fact that I did a 45 minute lecture on each one’s question …

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                1. See, that encourages mine. Do you want to borrow them to show yours how it’s done properly?

                  And does anyone at all in the universe know why light acts like it’s both a wave and a particle? Because, you know, it’s not enough to know that it does, we need to know why it does.

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                  1. Whew. That’s a subject for a lifelong study. They don’t yet agree on the answer to that question.

                    You can give examples of WHEN it does, but I think that’s about as close as you’re going to get.

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      2. Done yet? Done yet? Done yet? Are we there? Are we there? Are we there yet? Is it later yet? You said we’d be there later. Is it later yet?

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        1. Just a word of advice to the guys: asking your lady friend “Are we there yet?” is not a recommended method of expressing commitment to her sexual satisfaction.

          Some of you might want to write that in the palm of your hand.

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        2. The Daughter was doing the, ‘Are we there yet?’

          The Spouse, frustrated, replied, ‘Have we stopped yet?’

          The Daughter happily replied, ‘Yes!’ as we were at a red light at the time.

          We then tried the following reply which seemed to work, ‘Have we parked the car and started nagging you to put you book up yet?’

          It did not take her long to switch to, ‘Are we nearly there yet?’

          Sigh…

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          1. It did not take her long to switch to, ‘Are we nearly there yet?’

            I’m so grateful my daughter never played the “are we there yet” game, nor the repeated “why” game.

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            1. Thankfully The Daughter’s ability to read in the car helped keep the ‘Are we nearly there’ questions to a minimum. (The Daughter appears to be under an enchantment to read — which opperates just about anywhere and anytime.) When I got The Daughter to ‘assist’ with navigation through map and direction reading the questions came to a sudden end.

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              1. Thankfully The Daughter’s ability to read in the car helped keep the ‘Are we nearly there’ questions to a minimum.

                My daughter reads some. Sometimes she plays games on her tablet. But most of the time, what we do is talk. We have conversations. We talk politics. We talk all sorts of stuff.

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                1. Hehehe, most of our conversations in the car consist of something like this:
                  Mom: Hey, look at that!
                  Everyone Else: What?
                  Mom: …the huge, shiny thing in the direction I’m pointing?
                  *long pause*
                  Anyone Else: I can’t see it! (usually looking in the opposite direction)
                  Mom: …we’ve traveled nearly a mile. It’s kind of behind us. Hey, look at that shiny thing on the right!
                  Another person, looking left: Where?!?

                  I love my husband dearly, but oh my goodness does he not spot anything like the same stuff I do! (he sees, and remembers, the names on signs, so it works out)

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                3. When we traveled together as a family there was a range of activities.

                  One of our favorites was having one of the passengers read something they wanted to share out loud. Sometimes it was a book; we covered a lot of the Heinlein juveniles. Sometimes an article which we would discuss. Mind you there was that one trip, just after The Daughter let us know she could read where she read us every — I mean EVERY — sign from the piedmont of NC to Baltimore.

                  And yes, when she was in the mood The Daughter would talk. I recall one trip to Charlotte to go to the science museum – Discovery Place – when she was six. For two hours, she explained in great detail her theory of alternate universes and how one might travel between them.

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                  2. We had the weirdest road game ever. One of us quoted Shakespeare, the others identified play, act and scene.
                    Robert used to do that too — at one time he spent four hours explaining how to use electricity to levitate mice…

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          3. My parents went with “We’re almost halfway there” regardless of our progress on the journey.

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        3. One thing about it – he doesn’t just give empty “Why?”s. I answer one Why and then he asks the next one. After I get to a certain point, I just stop answering.

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  9. I’m glad to hear things are getting better for you Sarah. Constant pain sucks. Now put down the work and get some rest! Quick, while you’ve still got the excuse!!!!

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        1. Once upon a time, some SF convention attendees and a couple of airline pilots were waiting for an elevator, and it wasn’t coming, something was wrong. So the con-goers went off to climb the stairs. One pilot turned to the other, and said, “Follow the weirdos, they always know where the stairs are.”

          Told that once at a family gathering, and a cousin by marriage objected to the term. This was an unwise thing in a room that had three people who go to SF conventions in it.

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          1. Yeah, I have a niece who had surgery as an infant (long story), and I found there were parts of that hospital in Charlotte that were quicker to get to by the stairs.

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            1. Of course you need to know where the stairs are. What if you need to leave the premises in a hurry? Elevators might be too obvious. Stairs, especially rarely used ones a bit hidden, on the other hand, might work better… so of course one finds out all the exit routes. Especially those back stairs.

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          2. Had a cuz (damned cancer) who was once sitting in the mall ice cream parlor, eating a parfait, while waiting for his girlfriend to get off work at a shop around the corner (they were high school aged at the time). A bouncy, pink cloud, preppy girl flopped down into the seat across from him and said “Hi, I’m Crissy. Who are you?”
            He looked up from his parfait and said in a voice the cross of Peter Lorie and George Carlin : “I’m Weird.” and went back to concentrating on the tasty treat he was consuming.
            “Chrissy” just sat there dumbstruck, then quietly got up and walked out of the shop. His Girlfriend had walked in just as she sat down and saw the whole thing. She said she almost wet herself laughing at him.

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          3. waiting for an elevator, and it wasn’t coming, something was wrong everything was con normal.

            FTFY 8-)

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      2. I know that feeling.

        But… Do you like having Dan take you out for a nice leisurely dinner, too? Substitute a bit more, OK?

        In any case, my jitters factor is much reduced today. So happy to hear you came through this so well!

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      3. You too? When I was in the hospital for a month recovering from pancreatitis caused by the duct being blocked, I was able to work from my bed ( 2008, and I had a laptop and wi fi). I even had pictures. My co-workers knew I was crazy.

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            1. I haven’t done them. But need to get older son to do them today.
              So far drug free, but only because I want to adjust time of taking. It is a little… owey just now.

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              1. Yup. The pills wearing off is — not fun.

                The worst of it was that the pain the day of the operation where even with drugs I was thinking, well, it’s better than some cases of cramps I’ve had — by the next day that pain was Too Much because I had reset the level of pain expected.

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                1. The one that bugged me was when I couldn’t feel the pain yet, but my body was getting cranky because of the stuff that was going to cause the pain soon. Had that with my broken arm, very annoying.

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  10. Glad you’re recovering, take it easy. If you try to do too much too fast, you’ll end up taking longer to heal than if you had just rested as the doctor told you. And as said above, they gave me anti-nausea drugs to go with the painkillers (oxycodone or something like that) after my leg surgeries, so you can get them if you need.

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    1. Crackers! Crackers are good for nausea.

      Also Gatorade may be good to keep your electrolytes balanced.

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      1. I’ve lived in the South for nigh on four decades and I assure you that Crackers are not good for nausea.

        They’re good for ‘shine, for ‘possum recipes and lots of other things, but they will do NOTHING to alleviate your nausea.

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  12. Get better, Sarah. All that’s needed at this time would be food, rest and walking around. Later on, like next year, strongly suggest you find a Physical Therapist who’s good at Myofascial Release, aka Active Release, to work on that scaring. Combination of fascia release and targeted exercise will bring strength and good health to the affected area.

    I know a guy in Ontario who’s excellent, that might be too much of a commute for you. :). If you want I can ask around.

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  13. I’m shocked that you have to do laundry just a few days later, when you have 3 healthy men to pick up the load for a week. Even I could do laundry when Charlotte is recovering from her surgeries (next on Monday morning – supposed to be same day and take away the pain forever.)

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    1. IIRC, the guys are the kind of smart that results in interesting laundry issues, especially with all the different sensitivities folks have, and since she uses laundry as thinking time they didn’t get around to ironing them out. *thinks* Plus, aren’t they in a new house, and thus new washer/dryer?

      Liked by 1 person

      2. Some things about laundry are really nice. Once you load the washer with the dirty laundry and the soap and set the dials the machine does the hard work for you and gives you clean, albeit wet, stuff back. But a dryer solves that, even when outside it is cold wet rain. (i.e., the typical Spring around here when not sunny, warm and windy.)

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  14. Yeah! Glad to hear the good news. :)

    And don’t worry about the strange sounds from the first sub-basement. Really. There’s no problem with the ice machine and we’ll have it taken care of real shortly. Just as soon as the cases of stuff arrive from PIG Industrial supply. Really, nothing to bother with.

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    1. *yells up the smoking hole that used to be the sub-basement stairs* We need more titanium sheet stock! And…about a gross of wind-up ducks. The small ones!

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      2. *pokes head out of second sub-basement stairs, anti-spinward*

        Hey, Red! Did we get the stu—

        Oh. Hi, Sarah! No-no. Nothing much going on. All’s well. Doing a little cleaning. Sabrina’s airing out the sub-basements…

        What? The rumbling? Maybe your tummy? Have you eaten?

        Nah, I’m sure the floor’s not shaking. Probably the — uh — morphine…

        You’re not taking the morphine? Hm. I hear Motrin is potent…

        Anyway, gotta get back to the mop! Take care.

        *voice fading* Dr. Chase! Turn that thing down! We want to contain it, not shake the building apart!

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        1. Well *fine*, but it’s going to take ages the other way. An air-fuel mixture airs things out a treat! And I just got the Giant Space Squid trained, too. Oh, do we have any Helium-3? About a cup should do it.

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          1. I remember the last time you trained a Giant Space Squid.

            It’s a lesser Squid, you said. It’s very cute, you said. Things’ll go so much faster, you said.

            Six months of paperwork, countless bribes to various inspectors and we still can’t go in the West garden shed without foil shielding.

            Though — being able to feed those last couple of inspectors through the door was handy. They were pushing the baksheesh a bit far.

            Helium-3? Hm. I’ll have to check the inventory. Too many Mad Doctors in residence, I’m never sure what’s where and how much…

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            1. You thought it was cute too. *I* wasn’t the one bringing it boxes of iridium-flavored Crunchy Meteorite Treats….

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              1. It was the cute little stumpy mantle. Such a striking shade of blue.

                And it pulsed so when it was happy. Mesmerizing.

                But, you’ll note, I’m not the one that said “It’s so smart! I bet we could train it!”

                I mean, roll over, sure. Fetch, even. But, no. You went straight for the higher order physics.

                I get it. The whole trans-dimensional being thing. Still.

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          2. Hey, Red! Do you know what Jeff did with the Helium-3 bottle? He better not have used it all, stuff’s outrageous expensive and we won’t see another trade ship from the Lop-lag-looong gas skimmers for months…

            What? Yeah, Chase wants it. No. I didn’t ask her why. You know why? Because she’ll tell me, and then I’ll know. Plausible deniability.

            You remember what happened with the squid? Yeah. I knew about the squid. I’m still answering summonses about the squid. Everybody wants to talk about the squid.

            No, they probably don’t send her summonses. You know why? Because she’ll tell them…

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                1. “There was some work done with FLOX/propane, FLOX being a fluorine/oxygen mixture.”

                  In G-d’s name, WHY?

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                  1. I couldn’t find a supplier for liquid flourine and liquid ozone, and I couldn’t get the gasoline to mix right.

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                    1. For the life of me I cannot fathom the kind of mind that would look at the results of LOX and any hydrocarbon and think “you know, this could use some elemental flourine.”

                      Actually, I really can’t grok any scenario where the thought “this could use some elemental flourine” is appropriate.

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                    4. Read Clark’s Ignition! The tl;dr is that rocket fuels are demanding enough that some very obnoxious qualities are acceptable.

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                    5. I’m more an unsymmetical di-methyl hydrazine and nitrogen tetroxide guy, myself. Fun vapors, explosive on contact, colorful (N2O4).

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              2. :|

                You realize he’s gonna want to reserve the lab again so he can experiment?

                He calls it experiment, I call it play, either way.

                We’ll end up readjusting the minimum safe distance, again. And moving the lab. Again.

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                2. The quantum printer is on the fritz. I don’t know what the problem is, parts of the print head are either there or not there every time you look.

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                  1. Nobody reads the signs. *sigh*

                    Quit looking at the print head! Now we’ve got to wait a full cycle for your memory to be purged before we can print.

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                  2. Well, of course; that’s how it works. If you want a printer that has to mechanically move the head back & forth, I’m sure you can find them for sale—but where’s the fun in that?

                    (BTW, have you seen the Carbon3D demo videos? Very cool indeed.)

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                  3. Dang it, how many times do we have to tell you: the quantum printer won’t work properly if you don’t have the correct side of the moebius ribbon facing it!

                    And make sure the printout falls into the klein bottle for proper curing or the strings will get all twisted.

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                3. Oh, hey, while you’re talking about energetic experiments – would you guys leave the black spheres in the bin next to the penguin treats alone? They’re not marbles, they’re graphite. That’s why they keep breaking on you. They’re for my experimental ion propulsion unit.

                  No, no, I know what ions are. I use the graphite because it’s black. It absorbs the laser light better, and it’s cheap. Once the carbon is ionized, I hit it with about a million volts of electric field and zoom! they head out the back at high velocity.

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                  1. More properly, they’re pebbles. As in pebble bed. As in pebble bed reactor.

                    I’ll get my alpha detector. Somebody stall the NRC if they come poking around.

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                4. Let me get the Thingamabob. Much easier to adjust the distance now that we’ve added non-Euclidean architecture; we’ll just put it in without moving anything.

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                  1. “now that we’ve added non-Euclidean architecture”

                    Hasn’t that always been there?
                    Oh, wait, I’m not thinking four dimensionally. Sorry.

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            2. I’m checking the secondary bar. And tell Dr. Chase that the sack of ducks is at the top of the space where the stairs used to be. The last time I just dropped them in, I got fussed at.

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                1. The sheet stock is beside the former stairs, too. And Jeff said he’d call back about the He3. He also has the key to the “‘fridge” where the He3 would be if we have any left. He forgot to take it out of his pocket and no, I didn’t ask which pocket after that little misunderstanding about the pocket dimension and the quasi-cuttlefish.

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                  1. I think the clattering and curses from the hole mean the squid found the sheet stock. Probably set it on the wrong table. They’re not all reinforced.

                    Gettin’ to be a lot of questions we don’t ask around here. We should probably make a list. Belly up to the bar, I’ll spot you an iced tea.

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                    1. ‘Preciate it. Gonna be a sweet tea, too, since the nagging nannies at the FDA are saying sweet tea is bad for you. One slice of lemon, please.

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                    3. My pleasure. Glad to contribute to the knicker-twisting for the N-squareds.

                      Careful with that lemon, it’s from the special batch. Powerful good flavor — but the tart’s turned up a mite.

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                    4. Judging by the age of most people I see drinkin’ sweet tea, I’d say it promotes longevity as well as increasing your energy level and cooling a hot afternoon down to something that might pass for bearable. That and if the FDA is again’ it, it’s probably tasty, comforting, and ubiquitous. :D

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                    6. The fun thing for me about this “new” thing called Sweet Tea is that it’s just Sweetened Ice Tea and my family always sweetened Ice Tea. [Born & raised in East Central Illinois.]

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                    7. *blinks* Wow, you weren’t kidding about the lemons. Those slices give a whole new meaning to the phrase “all tarted up.”

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                    9. Proper Sweet Tea has the sugar dissolved in it while it’s still hot.

                      If it occurs to you that makes it difficult to modulate the sweetness after, you’re right, but the supporters are passionate.

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                    10. They also have very specific recipes (probably with PPM tables).

                      I’m of the lazy unsweet drinkers.

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                    12. “The spoon should have some resistance…”

                      You’d think it’d be easier to drink honey.

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                    13. *shuddering* The only way I could take sweetened tea is if it was green tea brewed so thick it looks black, or the way my grandmother use to make black tea.

                      Same rules of thumb, anyways.

                      More for them, I suppose?

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                    14. Yeah, they don’t have to worry about me filching their sugar-water.

                      Occasionally a restaurant will deliver sweet when I’m expecting un-sweet.

                      GAH!

                      Terrible shock.

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                    15. ‘Course, having said that — I did develop a tolerance for Chai, which is served with obnoxious amounts of sugar in the ME.

                      Conversations don’t start in Iraq without the Chai being served and it’s rude to ignore it.

                      *sigh*

                      I don’t miss it.

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                    18. Tea should be served like coffee, with bubbles still rising in the pot it is poured out of. As far as sweetness is concerned though, Steve’s relatives are dead on.

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            3. He-3 bottle? Let me look, there are more than a few bottles around here. Hrmm…beer, beer, gin, whiskey, magnetic, more gin, not sure what this is but it’s green and tastes like adjectives smell…nope, no He-3. Sorry.

              Like

                1. Oh, I’m sure it won’t be wasted. I’m not sure space-time will be the same when she’s done with it, but it won’t be wasted.

                  Like

                1. Wayne’s got fusion fuel? That green bottle’s…missing. Must be quantums. Yeah, that’s it.

                  Like

                    1. Leave some whiskey, what kind of establishment do you think this is? The amber taps in each room on the shop levels come off the whiskey mains.

                      Like

                    2. Perhaps you hadn’t noticed?

                      Wayne’s got fusion juice and he’s playing with ion drives, Dr. Chase dug out her mad scientist wig (and the Squid), Draven’s poking his nose in the quantum printer (far as I know he still has a nose, I haven’t looked), BobTRF is pretty sure he’s got a handle on the fluorine…

                      Oh, and you’re here.

                      Where in there did you see any indication a guy was going to enjoy a quiet drink on the shop levels?

                      I grabbed a bottle out of storage, I’ll be in the meandering garden if anybody needs me.

                      Like

                    4. Fair point.

                      I’m still taking my bottle to the garden. Nothing but the sound of the pitcher plants digesting interlopers to disturb my ponderings. Not ’til the Spring blooms start, anyway.

                      Like

                    6. That’s the soda mixer’s effect. Remember: the left hand tap is whiskey, the right hand mixes in the soda water.

                      Like

          1. You know, if you wind the ducks up they will carry you.
            Just sayin.
            And I think we used up the last of the Helium 3 at that drunken late night chipmunk sing along session a while back.

            Like

            1. But if I let them go on their own, they’ll leave wet feetprints all over.

              And yeah, the He3 got a little overused at the sing-along. I remember someone telling me about it the next morning. We may still have some superfluid He3 in the condiments cooler beside the secondary bar, though, if it hasn’t climbed out of the flasks.

              Like

    2. I found a new supplier for you order. New company, cut us a great deal. I think the name is ACME.

      Like

  15. *laughs* My sister use to always ask to borrow things about an hour after I’d gone to bed, because she knew that if I said anything coherent, it would be whatever would make her stop bugging me. After a rather damaging event, that got banned but hard…..

    I’ve been editing, between bouts of sleeping ( a lot of bouts of sleeping.)

    YAY!!! Even with strange dreams. Sleep= heal= good= less sleep debt= better all around.

    Like

  16. I, too, was told they would talk to me in the surgery, but didn’t remember anything until the recovery room.

    Like

    1. My wife always loses several hours after surgery. She still swears that she never talked to the surgeon who removed the tumor from her abdomen, while she was recovering, even though I was standing right there when she did.

      Like

  17. Well Sarah, he may have plenty of stories about what people have said when getting anesthesia. What you might have said could have been tame compared to what others have said. [Wink]

    Like

    1. Hehehe, add my mom to the stories– she was having surgery on her wrists, and they said it’d be fine to not put her to sleep; she’d be basically out, but have a faster recovery.

      It didn’t take very well, she was still partly aware, and then they started to strap her arms out for the surgery.

      In a T shape. Mom was raised as a good Irish Catholic girl, so in her fog, she decided this meant she was being crucified… and she nearly broke the doctor’s jaw with a punch. (What? She knew she wasn’t Jesus, why would she let them crucify her?!?)

      She’s mentioned it to every doctor that’s suggested partial sedation since…..

      Like

    2. When I broke my left arm in HS, the idiot Doctor put me under to set it.

      A parent couldn’t get there in time, so the teacher had to be there as guardian. He claimed afterward that I ratted out all of my friends while I was under…

      (Now, I am not so sure of that – that was the only broken bone I had in school, after all…)

      Like

      1. My sister got Novocaine in the arm once when they were stitching her up at the ER. She observes that they stabbed her more times to get it in than they did to put in the stitches.

        Like

    3. I’ve had several procedures which entailed rendering me unconscious, and at no time did i ever speak while under the influence of anesthesia; those who will purport to tell you otherwise are all members of a conspiracy dedicated to my defamation and cannot be trusted in any way.

      Like

    4. I was put partially under for a procedure a few weeks after my daughter was born and I apparently spent the whole time crying about who I wouldn’t ever be a nun. No, I’m not Catholic. No, being a nun has never been even remotely appealing to me.

      The only other one I was really out for was a wisdom tooth extraction. I woke up and was watching all the monitors. I thought “hmm, that looks like a heart monitor. I wonder how low I can make the numbers go.” Low enough that I set off a few alarms, apparently. My mother swears I was trying to explain something about meditation.

      Like

      2. I had stopped taking my high blood pressure pill for the operation, of course, But while I was in the hospital they kept getting things like 86 over 60. . . .

        They sent me away with directions to not take it and call my doctor.

        Like

  18. It’s weird how anesthesia does the whole videotape splice thing. Before my emergency appendectomy, I remember the anesthesiologist asking me to count backwards from 10. I just *know* I made a snarky comment (despite being near delirious with pain), probably involving Werner von Braun…but I don’t remember it. And then there I was in recovery, wondering when they were going to do the surgery ;-)

    Like

    1. I figured out it was recovery because I only had a curtain to one side in the intake room, and then I had one to either side.

      Like

    2. Heh. I remember having my wisdom teeth cut out of my skull, and the anesthesia…

      I recall the whole “count backwards” thing. First from ten. I asked if they wanted me to start over. *head shake, turns a little dial* Then from fifty. Are you sure this thing is working? *head shake, another dial.* Then from one hundred… Next thing I know, the doc is putting his hands in my mouth while I’m trying to ask when the anesthesia’s supposed to- *loooooong blink*

      Oh hey, they’re done! *chuckle* Thus I learned I either have some resistance to standard anesthesia, or the nurse was messing with me. I know I would, were I an anesthesiologist. ;P

      Like

      1. When I had that done, I was drifting over this little village (to be fair looked like Greece. Not modern Greece.) and I kept getting called. Or rather, this chick kept being called. I finally came out to tell themt o shut up, then realized I was the chick.

        Like

      2. When my wisdom teeth were taken out, they gave me gas. I kept wondering when the pain was supposed to stop. The dentists kept telling me to shut up and quit squirming, because it couldn’t possibly hurt, and why were my eyes still open? I really didn’t enjoy the part when the guy had his foot on my chest to get a better pull on a root wrapped around my jaw. (It turned out that he left half of it in. I had to get the other half out myself a couple weeks later. High-proof vodka and a really sharp pen knife were involved, after 3 more failed trips to the dentist. I took the pieces back in to show the dentist that no, I wasn’t making it up.)

        Anyways, at the end of the ordeal, they finally checked the gas containers. They were giving me gas, yes they were. It was oxygen.

        Stupid Army doctors/dentists. We hates them, we does.

        Like

        1. Don’t get me started. Never had to deal with them directly, but a lady I knew (AF Tech Sgt) called me up one night in literal tears because it hurt to breathe. She had already called the base hospital and they told her they couldn’t see her until the next morning.

          I went over, took her to the local 24 hour urgent care, and found out she had pleurisy (inflammation of the lung cavity so the lungs stick to it; hurts to breathe and lungs may tear). They gave her appropriate meds and antibiotics.

          She wouldn’t tell me who the AF “doctor” was so I didn’t get a chance to tell him in person he should put himself on house arrest during duck season.

          I knew govt medicine was a crock long before Ocare.

          Like

          1. 1974? I had all 4 wisdom teeth removed under local anesthesia.(Single lived in barracks). 6 hours later blood seeping in my mouth(fainting I’m not good at seeing my own blood) I get somebody to run me over to Dental clinic and we called in stand by Dentist. He wasn’t happy! He had to repack my mouth. Tough!.

            Like

      1. Well, yeah. If you get enough of them in there to get into different sections of the intestines, they will attract each other and pinch the intestine between them. A whole bunch could stop the whole system.

        Like

        2. *Mental picture of Smaug curling up in intestinal discomfort.*
          Would eating enough gold push out the magnets? It’s not very magnetic, but still heavy enough to do the job.
          I think.

          Like

  21. Unscrupulous siblings used to borrow money and car keys when I was half asleep. I never had any memory of these requests.

    Like

  22. General anaesthesia carries a significant risk. I had two wisdom teeth removed and hiccuped for almost two weeks after, plus couldn’t eat solid food — I lost ten pounds. Side-effects!

    I also can carry on conversations from dreamland, but rarely enunciate clearly enough to be understood. My jetpack in the closet shelf is never there when I wake up.

    Good to have you back and semi-functioning. I hope it all heals up and resolves those annoying symptoms.

    Like

    1. Oh, I lost weight on the wisdom teeth regime too. . .

      Life spent eating half-melted ice cream and apple sauce.

      Like

    2. Oh, my. When I’m half awake, I get some weird form of aphasia. I don’t make unrecognizable sounds, but the words that come out of my mouth don’t match the ones I was trying to make.

      Then, I realize that and try harder to be intelligible, but it just keeps coming out wrong. My family has stories…

      Like

      1. I had the same thing happen to me when I got my wisdom teeth removed (about 38 years ago, didn’t help). Couldn’t talk coherently for a bit.

        But I could write just fine; just *had* to tell the nurse about our brand new baby daughter…

        Like

      2. Heh. Mentioned this to younger son this evening, so he could remind me. He said the one he remembers was me asking him to make sure the dog was dressed. And I know that’s a minor one compared to some I’ve come up with.

        Like

        1. My FIL coming up from anesthesia was obsessed for DAYS over whether the horse would get into the apple orchard. He had no horse. Or orchard.
          I seem to be completely fine, honestly.

          Like

          1. What seems rather more likely is that the apple orchard would end up inside the horse.

            I wonder whether we, while under the effects of anesthesia, are not unconscious but are instead translated into a different reality [insert J. L. Picard reference] in which we, like Holger Carlsen, become acquainted with our true natures?

            Like

  23. My job is supporting the users of documentation software in the operating room. I get to talk to nurses and anesthesiologists all the time, and on occasion visit the various hospitals that use our software. There is one rule about PACU (post anesthesia care unit) … what happens in PACU, stays in PACU. Don’t worry, they hear all manner of crazy stuff as patients come out of anesthesia. Just be glad you’re not like my mom … she was loopy for weeks afterwards.

    Like

    1. *raises hand* That’s me. They put me under for a root canal in the Navy, and I don’t remember most of the following week of bed-rest. I think they gave me one vicodin right after I was awake enough to go back to my rack, but I’m REALLY not sure. My husband assures me that I’m pretty…odd.. for about a week and a half after morphine, too.
      (C-sections. I know at one point I couldn’t figure out how to open a push-the-button diaper wipe box, and ended up breaking it and breaking into tears! In my defense, I hate breaking things, and every other one I’d seen was pull-the-lock-up, but zomga it’s simple to figure out when you’re not loopy.)

      Like

    2. I’ve been lucid on waking after general anesthesia. The last time I was aware just before being wheeled into recovery, and asking the results. However, my legs tend not to work properly a few minutes after regaining consciousness, and I took to heart the warning not to operate machinery or sign important documents.

      Like

      1. Lovely Wife got a warning not to visit the Home Shopping Channel after an outpatient procedure, and they made sure I heard that warning as the person who was staying home with her.

        Like

  24. Ok with the painkillers, but just don’t make an “I can take it” he-man thing of it. Tomboys tend to do that. Glad you got through it all ok, and are likely to have fixed what”s been bothering you.

    Like

    1. Read back through more carefully. Never occurred to me that morphine might not work as advertised for some people. Well, just worried about you in general. Ask for different painkillers if these don’t work.

      Like

        1. Sorry. Migraine or recovering from migraine for at least a week. I thought I read someone saying that one could be resistant to morphine or something. So it works. Good. Take it if you need it, and take care.

          Like

  25. I had minor surgery once where the took a benign fatty tumor the size of my palm out of my back. Afterwards they gave me Percoset. I can believe it when they say it’s addictive, because I was SO SAD after the last one was gone.

    BTW, I just made my hotel reservation for LibertyCon. Kinda wish I’d made it earlier, since they are now sold out of regular rooms. I’m going to be in one of the train cars…. Is that a bad thing?

    Like

  26. Hope they fixed you all up so you don’t have to repeat. And everyone has different reactions to anesthesia. One of my sons was monitored very, very carefully during surgery because it took LD-50 before he was under. Fully lucid up to that point. (For those not familiar LD-60 is lethal dose for 50% of the people getting it…) Doctor came out to talk to his wife about what type of illegal drugs he might be taking- as an active duty soldier subject to random whiz quizzes. Didn’t fully believe the true answer of “None.”

    I get double or triple the normal dose of novacain if the dentist has to do serious work. It works, just takes much larger doses. And while I drink, and know when I’m drunk, I still have have no idea what people are talking about when they talk about the “buzz” they get. I don’t feel any different when drinking, just I know when I should give up my keys.

    Like

    2. I have sat there and said nothing before the novacain kicked it, just so the dentist would get it over with. But once I groaned a bit when it got intense, and the dentist was rather irked that I hadn’t said I wasn’t numb yet.

      Like

  27. We picked up a dazed and incoherent anesthesiologist on the side of the road near Elizabeth. Dropped him at the ER. That will help identify him.

    Liked by 1 person

  28. I had no idea; very happy to hear that the operation went well, and that you’re better now.

    Christopher Aka “Allston”

    Like

  29. Ms. Hoyt;

    Welcome back. Rest well. May you heal as thoroughly and quickly as Logan. Hopefully without the “tragedy magnet” aspect of that particular mutation……

    Like

  30. So you were cold as well. I had some work done on my right leg in 1985 and I still remember how cold I was when I woke up. I guess that is not at all uncommon. I’m glad to hear you are doing well. Modern medicine does have some redeeming values.

    Like

    1. Last time I had surgery, they dressed me in a whadda-ya-call-it surgical gown with a pipe fitting on the right side of what would have been the belt line. Seemed odd.

      A nurse attached a hose about the size of a vacuum cleaner hose to it and ran warm air through it. Sort of inflated the gown.

      No problem staying warm, much better than the warmed blankets they used to use.

      Like

    2. Finally got the chance to ask my wife what she felt with the epidural, but she doesn’t remember anything about how she felt, except that she felt like she was freezing when it started to wear off, and was shivering.

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        1. I have no idea why this nested here. I replied to your other comment…

          Surely.

          Maybe.

          Didn’t I?

          Like

            1. Well, the last time she did that — I don’t know. I don’t remember. But it’s a very ghostly sort of not remembering.

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              1. You don’t remember?

                You DON’T REMEMBER!?

                …

                We are soooo screwed. You *insisted* that you’d remember how to fix it the next time it happened.

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                    1. Hard to get a time stamp in the midst of the maelstrom.

                      Lemme check the back-up memory. Might take a bit.

                      Like

                  1. I thought you wrote up a procedure right then. By hand, so the time thingee that was happening wouldn’t disrupt an e-copy. I’m not sure why you used purple crayon to write it, but I have the strong impression you had a really good reason.

                    Like

                    1. Sure did. It was what I had. I’m still not sure how it wound up in my pocket. I’m thinking one of Foxfier’s rugrats managed to wander into the lab.

                      Like

                    2. Probably the Baron. He’s got a habit of randomly picking adults, walking up and announcing: “Hee-yaw.” This apparently triggers the “say thank you and put it in your pocket” reflex, while also melting memories due to cute overload. (especially right now– he’s got Captain America hair)

                      Like

                    3. This explains the clock-work frog. Nice workboyship. Little sticky in a couple of spots, but it’s an amphibian so that seems appropriate.

                      Like

            2. I haven’t! I’m not! I didn’t! That should cover all contingencies… I don’t like time travel. Makes me break out in a rash. And the squid gets hiccups.

              Like

  32. Hoping that you recover completely and quickly.

    Don’t forget to write down any odd dreams you end up having for a while. Might be material for lots of new books.

    Like

  34. Eesh… what a mess. Good thing your sons turned out okay.

    Glad to hear you’re now better than you were. Lack of pain is always a good thing. Especially if you didn’t realize that you were in pain to begin with.

    I’ve only had a general anesthetic once in my life. It was when I had my wisdom teeth out. The surgeon and nurse/assistant/whatever said that I was quite lucid for a while after receiving the dosage. I don’t remember any of it, though. I just remember waking up, being told not to get up, sitting up anyway… and then throwing up into the nearby sink.

    I was fine after that, though. But my sister who had hers out at the same time was bed-ridden for a few days.

    Like

  35. *stumble in from the back yard with the machete and the LOX sprayer, brushing the projectile torns off my armor…*

    Get the napalm ready, we’ve almost got it contained but — *Sees Sarah* it’s going to look LOVELY when it blooms…!

    Like

  38. Super Moutrin? Sounds like “Grunt Candy:” 800 mg of Ibuprofen. Nephew was issued it in the corp when he had his wisdom teeth removed.

    Be sure to follow doctor’s orders. Had friends and kinfolk get into trouble by being too spry after medical procedures.

    Like

    1. Good old vitamin M, good for everything from the flu to a broken leg. Except, apparently, when you drop a deckplate on your hand. Crush injury, characterized by pain and swelling? The two things right up ibuprofin’s alley? Yeah, for that you get an ice pack. And by ice pack I mean a generic ziploc bag and instructions to fill it from the mess deck.

      There is a reason I have no truck with socialized medicine.

      Like

      1. Did I ever tell the story about my brother’s “strained” ankle, the one that he did on the first jumping-out-of-the-airplane of that day, which they told him to just shake off because it was a strain, not even sprained?

        About 12 hours, three-four jumps and several medical experts later, it was identified as being broken in something like five places in the ankle and IIRC leg, having gone through a Navy doctor admitting it was sprained enough for treatment, to fractured, to…you get the idea. He spent six months on crutches, and at least a year recovering.

        Like

      2. Oddly, when I had a crushed thumb, it felt no worse than a sprain. My wife and a nurse when to get some Betadine solution, and I lay there looking at my thumb thinking. “It’s not crushed. it’s just sprained. They must have botched the X-Ray.” Then I flexed it, and it bent between the joints in a very painful way. I remember thinking “Guess it’s crushed after all.”

        Treatment was an aluminum splint to make sure it didn’t heal crooked. Pain-wise OTC stuff handled it.

        Like

  39. BTW, there’s a story that Mel Blanc was in a coma once and the doctor was trying to get him to respond. Finally the doctor said “Hey Bugs,” and Blanc answered, in Bug’s Bunny voice “What’s up, Doc?” While he was out of it, they were able to converse with him by addressing his characters, and he’d respond in their voices.

    Like

      1. They have the long version of the story in that Hollywood voice actor documentary. The doctors thought they’d lost him. They tried everything, calling his childhood name and all. And then… his characters brought him out of the coma!! Vita brevis, ars longa is your friend.

        Like

  40. Glad you’re doing okay, good lass. May things keep getting better, and my Himself be smiling on you and yours. And not that “amused, bemused, and confused” kind of smile that parents sometimes get with, shall we say, more imaginative children.

    …What? I’ve just seen such an expression before. From afar. In a book, maybe. *totally innocent!*

    Like

  41. I randomly ran across a photo (actually two) of our lovely hostess at Denver’s Worldcon in 2008. I did *not* get pictures of her with my firstborn, something I only thought of for three authors.

    Like

  42. Glad to hear you’re doing better, take it easy but get back to work. [;^{)>
    Hate General anesthesia, my first experience with it was when by gallbladder went boom. It was in an atypical position, so they didn’t know what was wrong, and eventually after putting me on all sorts of sugar pills that they swore were morphine etc… decided to open me up. Next thing I know I’m staring at a bunch of folks in dark blue (that being the color of surgical scrubs at NHB) and this gal is in my face screaming “breath damn you, breath!” Well I was a part time cop at the time, when I wasn’t wearing my Navy uniform, so… seeing dark blue, chest hurting like hell, my mind put two and two together and came up with “you’ve been shot LOD and are dying…” NOT a good way to come to.

    Like

  43. “They sent me home with Super Motrin! … I’ve been taking it religiously every 8 hours.”

    You want to be careful about that — it is not an appropriate substitute for properly transubstantiated wafer, although the Heaven it delivers you unto may seem very agreeable.

    Like

    1. “First you get down on your knees,
      fiddle with your rosaries
      bow your head with great respect and
      genuflect, genuflect, genuflect…..”

      * * *

      “2, 4, 6, 8,
      time to transubstantiate!”

      Like

  47. My first wife sometimes talked in her sleep. I learned not to respond after the second time. That only encouraged her.

    Like

  48. Excellent descriptions of preoperative state, post operative pain and medication effects/side effects. Isn’t it interesting how much better your head feels when you stop bashing it against the wall? Like maybe you really don’t have to have that headache all the time? Hope your muse doesn’t go on vacation when your pain does.

    Like

  49. So pleased to read that you passed through your valley of shadow. We’ll continue to pray for you. God speed and am looking forward to plunking down some casy money on The Next Book.

    Like

  51. Glad to hear that you’re recovering and the surgery apparently went well. Best wishes for a swift return to operating within proper tolerance.

    Here’s a nice time waster for your more listless moments – check out Improbable Island on the web. It’s a massive, interactive text adventure geared towards the creative writing crowd. May not be your thing, but the boys might like it. You can even get your own place on the island and add in your own adventures in text. There are a few full-featured mini-adventures hidden around the island – I am partial to the space station portal just south of the zombie’s town.

    Like

      1. “Forgotten Weapons.” This is the second time I typed it in, first time got erased by screaming cats chasing each other across the keyboard.

        Like

        1. If you’re writing fiction about firearms, probably the two most useful internet sites are “Forgotten Weapons,” which Ian blogs almost every day, with stuff about historic firearms mostly of the Twentieth Century. For instance, you were writing a piece with the Lewis gun, and Ian has super slow motion of the weapon firing. Cases come out in an odd way, ejected butt first. And “Imfdb,” the “Internet Movie Firearm Data Base,” which lists and describes guns that appear in movies and TV shows. If you saw a cool gun in a movie, look up the movie and Imfdb will probably name it and describe it, and variations on the standard that are in the specimen in that movie. For instance, if you saw an M1 Carbine in a movie, it might say “the M1 in the movie is the post WWII type with a bayonet lug, when the gun at the time the movie is set should have been the earlier type without bayonet lug.” Yes, serious gun nerds there.

          Like

            2. For four days, the pistol had lain there. Patiently.

              Possessed of the patience of a deadly predator, knowing the time to strike would come. Waiting.

              Then the lights went out. The store was closing. One more day and without purchase.

              The pistol lay there, still. Like the last puppy in the litter. Forlorn.

              Like

              1. *Sigh* You’ve been lurking around S*r*h Br*dy’s page again, haven’t you? Or that mayors’ group, the one that keeps losing ground despite (because?) all the money Hizzhonor Bloomberg dumps into it.

                Like

                1. Me? No-no. Apparently something about my aura is toxic to those folks, they all start screaming and running about whenever I’m around.

                  But I know the tune…

                  Like

                  1. Nyah — that pistol is gonna turn out to save a granny and her 9-year-old granddaughter from rape and murder without even needing to fire. It’s a twist ending.

                    Like

                    4. Yeah, I’ve jotted it down as well. I figured out I could listen to the whole album on YT and it’s currently playing in the background…

                      Like

            3. Sigh. OK, if you need the site, I assume you are writing a story in which a character briefly uses a gun.

              Like

              1. And you don’t want the brief description of the gun to sound stupid. Though it has been done, a story written about a gun. “The Automatic Pistol,” by Fritz Leiber, and “The Automatic Rifle,” by David Drake, a tribute to Leiber’s story. And yes, both stories were VERY weird.

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                  1. Double sigh. I didn’t say you didn’t do your research. I just mentioned the site you asked for, and mentioned another one, with details for other writers here who might want to use them. And assumed YOU needed the site. A gun in love with a guy. Only Robert.

                    Like

                    1. I’m in love with a big blue gun
                      And a big blue gun loves me
                      It’s not as bad as it appears
                      He has a scope and he’s misfire free.

                      Perhaps you want to look into a potato cannon, firing radioactive spuds capable of smart targeting; the favorite round of carb-loaders.

                      Like

  52. Consider yourself hugged and gently fussed at to take it one day at a time. Being bored is no excuse for risking your health, either. Glad it went well enough, and if you find out what you said while under and its interesting, do share!

    Like

  53. I’m glad to hear you’re in recovery mode and that nothing drastic happened. :) You have my sympathy so far as the pain medications go. When I had my neck surgery they made me prone to staring vacantly into space and mumbling nonsense all while losing large chunks of time. I hated them. You’ll be off them soon enough though, so it’s hopefully a temporary inconvenience for you!

    Like

  55. Glad things are getting better. I’ve had c-sections for all my kids and I’ve mostly been lucky with internal scar tissue issues. (Though from the way I’ve been feeling lately, my luck may have run out after my most recent kid.)

    Like

  56. Glad to hear that you are recovering and hopefully things will continue to improve.

    My strangest response to anesthesia was a procedure some years ago where I had Demerol administered. I was told later that I had a complicated and lucid political discussion (I’m from Chicago) with a fellow patient in the recovery room. I “woke” up an hour after leaving the recovery room walking down a hallway with my then wife. I remember nothing after the injection before that point.

    Like

  57. *Pokes head through escape pod hatch. Hurriedly wipes chocolate remnants from beard.”

    Welcome back Sarah, it’s more than good to hear from you. I do hope that this surgery does all its supposed to. (I don’t have much faith in doctors.)
    Best wishes on your recovery, and we look forward to more yummy literary goodness.

    (What chocolate? I didn’t find anyone’s secret cache!)

    Like

    2. It wasn’t the dark chocolate, right? With the sea-salt?

      ‘Cause the Minotaur, she’s awful fond of her bitter dark with the sea salt…

      Like

      1. If it’s bitter-dark it is ALL hers. Once you hit 70% coco I’m out. (And the first one to remind me that cats can’t eat chocolate gets to find out if the rumor about my having been declawed is true or not. *sweetest of sweet smiles*)

        Like

            1. Hope it wasn’t my Nestle’s Crunch or my milk chocolate collection. Russell Stover assorted creams, milky way, skor, or the aero crisp that I got the last time I visited Canada.

              Like

          2. He and the Minotaur can go on a tasting tour together.

            I’m of the opinion chocolate should naturally have “milk” in the name.

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            1. G0diva makes a “dark milk” that’s quite good. Although it may have been a promo for the last Twilight book. The campus bookstore at Texas Tech had the bars on sale and I’d have 1/2 a bar as lunch each day. It made the research days much nicer.

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            2. Of course! who wants to eat raw chocolate? It should be light and sweet like dear hubby. Touch the hubby and DIE!

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          3. He can have mine. I can go up to 72%. . .

            And as a side effect have lost all taste for milk chocolate.

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            1. *eyeing the Treat Cupboard* Y’know, the hershy’s dark chocolate truffle kisses are only half gone…. (nothing like the very bitter stuff, more like… a cross between chocolate, the way coffee smells, and some of the bite of espresso)

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              1. Actually, I found it under a box of M-80’s.
                (I don’t know why we have a box of such small scale explosives.)

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  59. My first child and I ought to have died due to complications of ruptured pregnancy and C-section. That means 2nd child wouldn’t have been born at all and the world would be short three of us. Horrors!

    God bless you, Sarah!

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          1. Trying to not get into as many arguments with people I’m mostly agree with and like.

            It was also becoming a time sink at the expense of real life. So many and prolific writers so little time.

            :-)

            Liked by 1 person

  62. Worked with an engineer whose husband is an anesthesiologist. When she’d ask him, “And how was your day?’ his best answer was, “They all woke up.”

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    1. Well, and that’s a good thing.
      We went to a female infertility specialist for first son. She was one of the three best in the country and specialized in hopeless cases (we’d tried for six years) and when she got a client pregnant (usually one a year or so) she had a big dinner out with her husband.
      When we got pregnant, she took her husband to the fanciest restaurant in town. She says her husband said “So, you knocked up another client?” and as such will happen it fell in a lull. She said the entire restaurant was stared at her: petite, pretty and clearly female…

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      2. For the first several years after my mom got certified to artificially inseminate cows, she’d freak people out by announcing that she was a daddy to this or that calf.

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