The Ganglion Tryst continues. If you stumbled across this post, read this one first.

Unlike the two grandmothers, this was her first surgery since having her wisdom teeth removed. The new nurse led her to the left and down a long hallway, lined with empty beds separated by curtains half drawn back. They stopped at a two-stall consultation area, separated again by the hospital green curtains. The nurse said she would return shortly.
The nurse returned with a clipboard, ran through a checklist of questions and said the anesthetist and surgeon would be around soon.  Vanessa felt cold, and swung her legs under her chair to try to get blood flowing. She’d used hair removal cream on her legs that morning and given her self a pedicure (sans nail polish) as well. After all, she’d had a lot of time to fill given she couldn’t eat. As the blood returned, she questioned whether removing the lump was worth the trouble. The lump really only bothered her while walking in the city. Hiking was fine, and so was cycling. Maybe it would be better to leave it in, she wondered.

Snap, snap. The anesthetist had arrived and was snapping his fingers in front of her eyes. “Sorry,” Vanessa groaned. “No coffee. Me space cadet without caffeine.”  He looked a bit like Tom Selleck or a 1970s porn star, with his big bushy mustache.

Snap, snap, again. Vanessa had been staring at his privates, wondering if he had worked as a porn star to put himself through med school. “Did you hear me, Vanessa?” he asked. “You can have the general anesthetic or an epidural. Which do you prefer?”

Vanessa decided on the general, signed the paperwork, and then waited for the surgeon to appear. Again she wondered if the aggravation was going to be worth it. Was it bad to be the last surgery of the day? And then she thought to herself, I might miss you little lump. Only the lump wasn’t getting smaller, was it?
The surgeon poked his head around the corner and brought Vanessa back to the present. Dr. Tussem took the pen from behind his ear and initialed just above Vanessa’s right ankle bone. Then using the capped end, he marked the incision line to show Vanessa its location. “I’ll see you soon,” he remarked, as he disappeared around the corner.
The new nurse reappeared and brought Vanessa from the consultation cubicle around the corner into “theatre”. The room was much larger than she had expected, with a large alien-looking light fixture aimed over the small operating table. Vanessa thought it looked more like the examination table in her doctor’s office, but narrower. She turned her back to it and pushed herself up, then brought her legs around and laid back.

The intravenous was inserted into her left hand, while the rest of the medical team scrubbed up at the sink on the wall to her left. Vanessa hummed Twinkle Twinkle Little Star in her head to make sure they were washing their hands long enough. She tried to watch them out of the corner of her eye as well to make sure they were getting any bacteria out from under their fingernails.

Then the anesthetist asked her to count backwards from ten. “Ten … nine … eight …,” muttered Vanessa as she drifted off, wondering what life would be like without her lump.

Stay tuned for the next installment.

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