In the days leading up to my surgery, my mood about the surgery changed from minute-to-minute. I would go from being totally confident to terrified and back. I woke up at my parents' house (the Palo Alto-area) the day of the surgery actually feeling pretty decent. I was ready to get this process started, and, more so, ready to get back on my feet and running without pain. My dad gave me a lift to the surgery center, and after some light paperwork, we were taken to a small room to get my ice machine. Basically, it looks like a normal cooler with a blue tube coming out. It basically circulates cold water to a patch on my knees, that cuts down on swelling and keeps it cold.
After that, I was taken into the surgery room and was briefed on all that was gonna happen. After that (and a short wait), I was wheeled into the surgery room (think the "Machine That Goes Bing" Monty Python scene — http://bit.ly/29bpzv) and was given some injection and put on an oxegen mask and, just like that, I was out. I awoke in a hospital bed without much pain. After a few drugged-out phone conversations, my dad reappeared. I was feeling surprisingly pain-free and just the right kind of loopy — not totally catatonic, but nice and relaxed. I was surprised that I was actually able to stand up without the aid of the crutches, but the nurse made sure that I got a wheelchair, which was very helpful.
It was about 7:30 by the time I actually got home, and after watching an episode of Mad Men, I succumned to the drugs and drifted off to sleep. Till tomorrow. Dan.
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