REMOVE LEFT THYROID

I arrived at the hospital at 8:00 AM Monday, July 6, 1998.

My paper work and blood test were done the week before. Pat, my wife, and I were seated in a booth where a needle was inserted and taped to my right arm. The IV was dripping. My blood pressure and temperature were recorded. We sat watching the hospital employees move in and out, always with little important things, like needles with hoses attached, pills, bandages and such, clutched in their hand. I waited for my turn. In about two hours I was transferred to a gurney and rolled into the pre-op waiting room. The surgeon and sleep peddler came by and said I would be OK. For the 1000th time I told them my teeth wouldn't come out and I was not, to my best ability, I was not allergic to any medicine. Waiting on surgery is stressful, so as my blood pressure started to climb; I started to pee frequently. At about 11:30 AM, I received a happy shot and at 12:00 I said good by to Pat and was rolled into the operating room. I lay there in a narcotic bliss watching every one float around in the impersonal swath of hospital garb. The sleep guy told me to uncross my legs at the ankle.

I woke up in the surgery recovery room, where some one was trying to put an oxygen mask over my face. He sat with me about an hour and talked endlessly about Satellite TV. Then I was rolled into my room, where Pat was waiting for me. It was about 3:30 PM. Pat stayed about an hour and half then I got up and found the nurses coffee pot and had a cup of good hot coffee. The nurse's coffee pot was behind a closed door, authorized personnel only. However, I could go around the back way and there was an open door to the coffee, without the cursed, "Authorized Personnel Only", sign. I walked around some and went to bed. I had not experienced any pain, just a little discomfort from the bandage on my neck. Anyway, I realized I could not pass water and was feeling some discomfort. The IV was still dripping; I could feel the water building up.

Fighting panic, I punched the button and told them I wanted a catheter, SOONER RATHER THAN LATER, MORE RATHER THAN LESS. This was a blessing.

The urologist came by with the usual examination and pills. I was glad to see him though. If there is one thing I have learned in life it is, a urologist can have a rubber glove on his hand quicker than you can blink your eye.

I punched the button for a happy shot and went into the twilight zone. I did not sleep well, just floated between sleep and dreams.

The next day, by 10:00 AM, I could feel all the water parts beginning to relax so I got them to remove the Foley Catheter. I still had a little trouble, but was passing, producing LESS RATHER THAN MORE, SLOW RATHER THAN FAST.

At about 10:30 I got up, shaved, sponge bath, more coffee and talked to the Doctor. I was to spend another day. My desire was to trade my happy shots for a sleeping pill that night. The Doctor agreed.

Pat came by and we talked and watched TV then she went home. My kids called several times while I was confined, and It was good to talk to them. About 9 PM the nurse brought me a sleeping pill, or something, and I slept through the 4 hour blood pressure and temperature checks during the night.

The morning of the third day, I got the IV needle removed from my arm. Now, I put on my own pajamas and bath robe after shaving and cleaning up. It's good to have on your own clothes. I felt good, I was ready to go.

The Surgeons nurse, a pretty thing with an projection of confidence that set me at ease, dressed my incision, gave me detailed instructions then set me free.

Pat came and got me and I went home to my dogs. As I sat in the tub, that night with the steady throb of the water pump bathing my bones with hot water, both dogs put their front legs on the tub and licked my face. It's good to have two good dogs.

I was hungry and Pat had a bunch of stuff cooked up, I pigged out.

I am doing very well with only one thyroid and taking a pill each day. I don't seem as tired as I did before. Every thing they removed was B9.
That is Decimal 185.

That's It,

Lanty Wylie


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Copyright © 1998-2010 by Lanty H. Wylie, Jr. All Rights Reserved.