You will only feel a tiny prick as the needle goes in, then maybe a bit of a small burn as the novacaine takes effect. This, as I am gently squeezing the hand of the kindly nurse who is also a friend, but goes all professional the minute we enter the operating room. I am undergoing a procedure to have a small mole removed from just above my eye. My family care physician’s assistant offered to take care of it for me in her office, but as I said to her, I appreciate the offer, but since it’s a bit more than a pimple on my bum and right above my eye, I think I’ll let the plastic surgeon have a go at it. So after an appointment to look at it and define it and decide upon a course of action, I made the appointment. Will there be anesthesia I asked hopefully, oh no I’ll just give you a prescription for some valium was the response. You’ll be fine. So I came home and explained all this to the hubs who was unsupportively really excited about the prospect of seeing me on valium. He who has witnessed my drug of choice which is either alcohol or versette the fabulous conscious sedation drip that, should it ever become available as a street drug will indeed be the demise of me as a civilized member of society. A few weeks went by; I made the requisite arrangements at work cancelling meetings and trying to make it sounds as if it was a very big deal in order to milk an entire day off. Oh I might be in after the “surgery” but I am told recovery is different for everyone and it’s just above my eye, so I am concerned. Plus the sedative might still be on board and I can’t be writing and talking to clients under those circumstances.
The big day arrived and the hubs was quite disappointed that I had chosen not to take the valium. If indeed you can’t knock me out then I choose to brave it. I am the person who threw up all the premeds for a colonoscopy, so the idea of the mothers’ little helper from the seventies and the effect it might have on me was not something upon which, I was willing to gamble. The remembrance of many of my mum’s friends cruising through that decade in a waft of Liz Claiborne perfume and cigarette smoke was still clear. Their days spent driving little Morris Minor wood sided estate cars about town in a complete fog of contentment. So I was content that I had decided to put my big girl panties on as Anna likes to say and take the numbing prick of the needle in stride. Of course no matter what precautions one takes prior to these things there is no guarantee as to how one’s actual body and its personal and intimate functions will choose to behave. Naturally mine was to need to void its entire content the minute I stepped into the office. Obviously not the first client to react this way prior to a procedure, the bathroom was conveniently located front and center.
Once the nurse came in to escort me back to the operating theatre as we Brits say, it was all very pleasant, very quick and completely painless. A couple of tiny stitches that will apparently dissolve in a few days and a follow up visit to…check that it didn’t grow back? I am ready for a complete facelift now. No fear, as soon as this powerball ticket comes in, I am going to have it all done. Things are going to be replaced, rejuvenated and removed. I am going to have things put back up there where they belong and things shaped and sculpted just like they are in all the brochures that the hubs was reading during my brief but oh so successful dip into the pool of plastic surgery. I am going to be scraped and cleansed and nipped and tucked and the hubs can come too. They have couples procedures; we could do it as a vacation in some exotic venue.
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