(has been waiting patiently for me to return from the hospital: Puppy Troy)

Pretty much exactly 72 hours ago, the anesthesiologists brought me into the operating room for my surgery. Ann and I talked about that very moment yesterday. She had tears in her eyes when they came to get me. I remember that - as nervous as it was for me– I was so relieved that it was me having the procedure done and not her. For selfish reasons, because I wouldn’t have been able to deal with my worries if it had been Ann who had to go instead of me. In general, I feel a little bit better than yesterday, I’m just slightly nauseous this morning. I actually decided to sleep upstairs in our bed. It was great, I slept all the way through until 5:00am. That posture-pedic mattress in our master bedroom did cost a fortune, but is worth every single penny. I just noticed that they shaved off a 10x10 inches section on my left thigh – they must have done that after they had knocked me out prior to the surgery. I wonder what for, though. Through the largest incision, which is in fact not large at all, there is some yellowish-transparent liquid stuff coming out. Just a tiny bit, but it is continuously wet there. I spoke to a friend of mine who’s a school nurse and to my brother-in-law, an orthopedic-surgeon, both of whom confirmed that this is perfectly normal, as long as the surrounding skin doesn’t get red and/or shows other signs of an inflammation, like burning, for instance. Since last night, I’m wearing a hospital gown again. They are very practical for obvious reasons, yet, extremely comfy, too. Who knew! I might actually consider keep wearing it beyond my recovery period. I wonder what my folks in the office would think about that. Well, they are used to quite a lot by now. My wife once prepared lunch for me and had put it into a Victoria’s Secret bag. And I of course didn’t notice until I got to my office, after having walked across the parking lot, having passed the campus-security and spoken to a few people in the elevator and in the hallway – and all seemed to be particularly interested in my lunch that day, because they kept staring at my bag. Only when I arrived in my office and eventually had a closer look at it, I got to realize what was so mesmerizing about this ominous bag: it was held in pink and that by itself would probably explain a few of the looks I got from my fellow co-workers. But not only that – there was also a prominently placed logo stretching across either side, demanding: “Give me sexy!”

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