Surgery Adventures

On Wednesday I had a glomus tumor (Big scary word for something very small) removed from my left pinky finger nail bed. It's a super tiny growth that can be very painful to the touch and sensitive to temperature changes.

Mine hurt a lot. If I were to even lightly bump my finger on something I wanted to scream. It was just the worst kind of hot bursting pain.

I had it for about nine years but never thought of removing it. For one, I didn't think it was a possibility and two, I haven't had health insurance. But now that I have some pretty kick ass coverage, I took advantage of it and went for it. I met with this really great orthopedic surgeon who gave me hope that my finger could be fixed. We decided to get it removed.

My Doctor informed me that it was a very simple out-patient procedure. He said that they were going to have to remove the nail and then pull back the nail bed by cutting the skin around my cuticle to get to it. (Are you grossed out yet?) It would take a little under an hour to remove it and I would only be in recovery for about an hour as I was not going to be under general anesthesia. I was going to be put under in what they call a "twilight" state, which is an unconscious sleep like state but able to respond to questions, though you will still have no memory of anything.

After my appointment I went to lunch with my aunt. We were joking around about how, wouldn't it be funny if people just started spilling all their deepest darkest secrets while under the mild anesthesia? Saying things like “I live in the united states illegally!" or “I’m actually gay!" or “I said I voted for Obama but really I voted for Nader!" My favorite we came up with was “I rob banks!"

The day of the surgery arrived and I was a total nervous mess. The only other time I have had surgery was getting my wisdom teeth pulled when I was sixteen. That was ages ago. Incase you hadn’t caught on from my previous post , I have since turned into a big baby when it comes to stuff with doctors and my health. Not that I am a hypochondriac, I just worry far too much for my own good.

I was wheeled into the surgery room at ten of eight. They gave me the warm fuzzy potion and a snuggly blanket. And then just like that I was being wheeled into recovery. A nurse came to give me something (a pillow? I can’t remember) and she asked how I was doing.

“I’m on valium . I’m great”

I was thinking of what my aunt and I had talked about at lunch and giggling at the thought of saying “I rob banks!” I started laughing. “Yep. I do. I rob banks.”

The nurse said “I hope not”

Wait... You hope not what?

And then I realized I was saying all this stuff out loud. Like REALLY saying it out loud. That woke me up right away. “Oh crap” I thought. What else have I been saying?

I explained to my nurse that I don't rob banks and why it was so funny to me. She laughed a little too. She said no, people don’t start spilling secrets when they come out of anesthesia, though it would make her job a lot more interesting if they did. I asked if I had said anything else. She said I just asked if I was finished and I asked for in-n-out.

I did? What the hell? In-n-out did sound good, but I asked for it? What? I have no recollection of this, none. She could have been lying for all I know.

I always seem to find a great time to embarrass myself.

I think I am healing nicely. It’s a little sore. But I should be fine. I still have a bandage on my finger that looks much like a finger puppet. So I turned it into an Easter bunny for the holiday. Though turning it into a bag of money or a little bandit would have been much more fitting.