FFS. Boston. Setting things aright.
Apr. 28th, 2008 11:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_fantastic_ms_foxBoston. My Mum is asleep across the room. Bless her.
Lots of running around in the morning (appointment at 9am / 6am BC time), and everything seems set. Bloodwork is in. Anesthesiologist is done. Pre-surgical consult is good, I think. The American medical system makes me twitchy, but everyone seems nice, and much better at ther jobs than they are at selling things, so I feel safe.
It also turns out that post-anesthesia depression is rare (confirmed by those to whom I've spoken) and that constpation is less due to being KO'd, and more to do with narcotics and no-longer-advised imobility.
I'm feeling better about my personal safety now. I seem to have internalized the idea of This won't kill me. Good.
Will this maim me? Unlikely. As unlikely as it wil kill me, which is (about as much? more? less?) of a risk than, say, bicycling in Vancouver - not that that's much a benchmark.
As I go through the last pre-briefing and waiver, I suddenly remember why I'm doing this. You see, I had forgotten in the mad rush, to the point that all I was looking forward to was an end to said mad rush. I'm going to change the shape of my face; fix it to what it shoud be, or at least close enough.
Oh, right, that old thing! How's that going? Is that why I'm inthe doctor's office the surgeon's and anesthetists office... on the other side of the continent? Oh. I guess I'm doing it then. Wow.
Scary
Creepy
Cool
Finally
About fucking time.
Lots of running around in the morning (appointment at 9am / 6am BC time), and everything seems set. Bloodwork is in. Anesthesiologist is done. Pre-surgical consult is good, I think. The American medical system makes me twitchy, but everyone seems nice, and much better at ther jobs than they are at selling things, so I feel safe.
It also turns out that post-anesthesia depression is rare (confirmed by those to whom I've spoken) and that constpation is less due to being KO'd, and more to do with narcotics and no-longer-advised imobility.
I'm feeling better about my personal safety now. I seem to have internalized the idea of This won't kill me. Good.
Will this maim me? Unlikely. As unlikely as it wil kill me, which is (about as much? more? less?) of a risk than, say, bicycling in Vancouver - not that that's much a benchmark.
As I go through the last pre-briefing and waiver, I suddenly remember why I'm doing this. You see, I had forgotten in the mad rush, to the point that all I was looking forward to was an end to said mad rush. I'm going to change the shape of my face; fix it to what it shoud be, or at least close enough.
Oh, right, that old thing! How's that going? Is that why I'm in
Scary
Creepy
Cool
Finally
About fucking time.
So I get to be done surgery (or at least this round of it) and there's some sort of substantial bodily improvement thrown in for free? Wow! That would explain why I agreed to this in the first place.
My only concern now is that they will do a good job.
- less than 36 hours to go -