Tomorrow (Thursday, Oct. 20) I go in for an operation. It’ll be my first according to my knowledge (I don’t know that I had an operation as an infant, but I don’t think so). I have a hernia.
I got this hernia about seven years ago. I was working out – bench pressing, curling, the heavy stuff – and figured I was invincible. I was doing all of this without a spotter. One day there was a “pop”. I haven’t worked out since.
As my hernia slowly worsened my activities lessened. Today I hardly go for walks, couldn’t jog a block if my life depended on it and get winded after lifting a few boxes.
Finally, seven years later, the daily agitation and occasional excruciating pain have made this operation a necessity. It was always was a necessity, but not in my mind. See, I vowed that I would never have an operation. My solution to pain is prayer (i.e. cop-out). Hardly works most of the time, but I suck it up, take some pills and move on. It’s like a woman from my church says, “typical man, you won’t have an operation until you absolutely can not stand it any longer”. It’s true.
My wife, on the other hand, has a completely different philosophy. She says, “if it needs fix’in than I’m getting it fixed”. Of course nobody likes to be operated on, but if it needs to be done, my wife would rather it done sooner than later. I’d rather it done later than soon.
Alas, it’s happening tomorrow morning. I go in at 8:30. The operation begins at 10:30. I’ll be in recovery by noon and be home in time for dinner. Two solid weeks off of work, two months of light duty and lots of reading.