My friend’s surgery was yesterday.

He was in pre-op by 10, and under the knife at 11:30. We were offered the opportunity to watch the entire proceeding, but all of us turned it down. I think had it been for something less — brain surgery? open heart? – we might have agreed. Or not. Who the hell watches someone they care about go under the knife for a serious medical condition? And who wants to listen to the bantering of the residents as they dissect technique?

Apparently, some do.

We preferred the anonymity of the waiting room where we could come and go as we pleased, gorge ourselves on cafeteria food, and get mild cases of the runs four hours later.

We were pretty much wiped out by the time it was announced that Ted was in recovery. He spent several hours there getting pain meds straightened out by the anesthesiology team before being released to the relative comfort of a room, and even by then, the pain med routine continued to plague. Finally, some 12 hours post-surgery and with the med routine finally worked out, he was doing better.

Late in the evening a day later, normal color has returned and he’s wisecracking like the old days.

Pain meds do wonders for one’s outlook on life.