Friday, August 1, 2014

The 49 Year-Old Surgery Virgin

I was a 49 year-old virgin of surgery. A surge-virge, if you will. I got to second base in high school when I had my wisdom teeth removed, but that was more like an under-the-shirt, over-the-bra local anesthetic.

I had developed an inguinal hernia caused by lifting five times my weight, or a violent sneeze attack (the doctor was unclear).

"Auuwwwggh! I can feel it in mah ball...!"

We scheduled my surgery for 7:00 am, hoping to catch the surgeon before his weekend margaritas kicked in. After filling in a multitude of privacy and release forms (they now own the rights to my first Broadway- produced play; I do get to keep the foreign rights thanks to Obamacare), Amy and I were led back to the pre-op with faint acknowledgment from my kids, who were wrapped up in playing "Virtual Surgeon" on their iPads. In my day we played games based on Moe Howard from the Three Stooges--and we liked it!

"Keep it above the equator, kids!"

The IV nurse was pleasant and had me mark on my body where the hernia was located. I figured the doctor should already know this from his examination--or by the very large section of intestine poking through my abdominal wall. Just to make sure, I put a smiley face on the spot. Next came the anesthesiologist who was a jolly man. He assured me that, as a functioning alcoholic, he was well versed in masking pain.

Hoping for a sexy nurse to shave my privates, I was instead introduced to Randy.

"Think of a hernia like wrestling processed meat..." 

Turns out that with laparoscopic surgery there is no requirement for junk-shaving or sexy nurses.

At 7:00am sharp, they wheeled me down the hall to the OR and I was determined to try and stay awake as long as I…

"Wake up, Drew."

"Wait, let me rearrange my face..."

"Ahhh, that's better."


  1. Sounds as if you are OK. Glad they didn't mix up your chart with the sex-change patient - - or the lobotomy. I also dealt with a hernia - - back when I was 2 months old. Ouch! I don't actually remember the pain but my father said he never heard a baby scream like that - - and he knew pain, having dropped enough of us after a few. Hope you are well!

  2. Doing fine. Greg told me all about the M to F surgery (he learned from one of his tutees) and I'm glad they didn't mix that part up. This blog post was a lot more interesting in my head while I was on oxycodone. Unfortunately, I didn't write anything down and like Eric Clapton's career, it's not so interesting off the opium.