As I walked holding Eric's hand to my appointment to meet with my surgeon, I anticipated what he would look like and how he would act. I envisioned him to be an average white guy, kinda nerdy and not very communicative only because that's the kinda doctor I've been running into lately. We enter his office and it is very sparse with the traditional hotel looking pictures on the wall and of course that damn TV with the "Health" channel set way back in a corner. After I sign in, my behind barely touches the chair when I am called back..and off we go. We are guided to an exam room and asked a few questions by the nurse and left to silence and shouting nerves. As quickly as she left quickly the doctor comes in. Who is this guy? He's not what I imagined. First of all he is Asian, later I find out he is Japanese. I am sitting on the table and the doctor is sitting right in front of me on a chair with his legs crossed. The first thing I notice is that he is incredibility handsome. Yep, he's a looker and he's probably my husbands age...late 40's. He tells me to give him a minute while he looks over my paper work and I gesture OK because I'm too busy checking out his shoes. They were fine leather almost perfect condition shoes...very expensive. He was dressed to the nines with his grey linen pants and grey and white striped shirt that obliviously was designer ...along with his blue silk tie. He wore Gucci glasses with the best lenses in them. How do I know? I was an Optician and a frame buyer for 20 plus years...that's how I know, plus the frames had the Gucci mark on them. This doctor blew my image away. As we talked he was very patient and I could tell he was a no nonsense guy. He was very precise in his wording and very confident in what he had to do and as we parted ways he told me that I would be just fine and that he would see me later.
Fast forward to hospital minutes before surgery...
They take me from the warmth and comfort of my little hospital room to the room before surgery where it is 100 degrees below zero. It's so cold I'm shivering. One of the nurses orders someone to go get me two blankets and as they unfold the heat on my body I am lulled into a false sense of security. Up until this point I am pretty good. I haven't cried or complained and I was almost looking forward for this whole ordeal to end as it has been going on for a long time.
The nurse asks me if I would like a little something to calm me down..Well, I reply...doesn't everybody? My operation is set for 10 am and it is 9:40ish when this little guy comes strolling in, walks straight towards me with his hand extended and introduces himself. He is the anesthesiologist. He proceeds to ask me "so Victoria, were gonna get rid of your gallbladder today" and without time for me to answer he continues "Yeah, well, there are a lot of body parts we can do without right, uterus,appendix..." and as he continued, in my mind I'm thinking this is the anesthesiologist? He's twelve years old. I hear him laughing as he's setting up my IV, he is talking and caring on with the staff that is in the room, he turns and asks me "so you want something to relax?" my response...sure! Well, we can give you a little sumin' sumin', we got it all...you want the Michael Jackson special?" Ok, I'm thinking, this guy is strange and he's scaring me with the MJ reference. He tells me he'll be right back and walks into another room. I'm lying there thinking this guy is either a gangster wannabe or a mad drug scientist. Right about then my calm, professional, handsome and stable doctor walks in and ask me how I'm doing. I ask him better yet doctor "How YOU doing?" He laughs and tells me he's just fine, pats my hand and says I'll see you in about 5 minutes then walks away. Here come the twelve year old with a syringe and proceeds to put it in my IV. He asks me how ya' feeling Victoria? Across the room from me on the wall there are roughly 5 computers and I tell him the computers are getting blurry..his response, OK, let's get this party started. That's all I remember...next thing I know I'm being wheeled down a hallway to my little cozy room..did I miss the party or was I the party?
So apparently all went well with the doctors on the opposite ends of the specter. And I can't help but wonder how these two got along in the operating room. I can only imagine it now..."Oh come on doc don't be a downer..it's time to par-tay"...loosen up!