well... that was easy.
here's how it went down. i freaked the fuck out, like, BAD, for about 24 hours. arrived at the surgicenter at 7:45am, freaking the fuck out BAD BAD. got asked about allergies. none. i got taken back, asked about allergies some more. still none. gave a urine sample. that was tough, given i'd already peed and not been able to drink anything, but i managed. told the anestesiologist would be in shortly and to put on the paper gown. he shows up, asks me about allergies. none. i... start crying. my husband gives me tissues, my doctor arrives and wipes my tears. i am not joking. she is that awesome. the anesthesiologist does my iv (my phlebotomist friend says that's why i have a bruise. fuckin, doctors, man. think they can do anything.) and then my doctor says, "here comes the good stuff."
ten seconds later i feel fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine. i'm told i repeatedly asked what the street name of that shit was. i don't think that's true. i only remember asking twice.
i got wheeled into the or. i thought, hm, this should be making me freak the motherfuck out. weird. i climb onto the table and scooch until my butt is over the hole...
and then the nurses were talking about shin splints, so i opened my eyes and said, "for shin splints you have to lay a bathtowel on the bathroom floor in front of you, stand on the end and scrunch the towel under your feet with your toes. do it every day for a couple weeks until they feel better then do it a couple times a week. it's about you calves, not your shins."
and they said, "oh, becklette has a cure for shin splints. here, honey, we're just going to put your panties on to hold the pad in place."
then they moved me to a chair, gave me diet coke and peanut butter crackers and brought in my husband.
still a little wigged out by the time-loss/alien abduction aspect of it all, but, wow. that was easy.