Day Surgery and Superpowers

Two weeks til the bandages come off. She's been here before. This is the hard part, the next few hours, in and out of consciousness. Floating above the recovery room in an Atavan induced haze. At least this time it's just a nerve block or four. The spinal last time was a disaster, completely numb from the waist down, disembodied, powerless. Then the side effects- the spinal headache and projectile vomiting, mainlining straight morphine and oxy for 2 days until she thought she'd throw up the lining of her stomach.This is the last time. That's what the surgeon said. Mind you, he said that about the last three surgeries. Apparently her superpower is regrowing any and all bone removed from her body, at a ridiculously rapid pace. It could be worse, it could be terminal in some way. They could have to lop off a limb or find some inoperable tumour. After eight years of xrays and follow up she's waiting to see what side effects come her way. The irony. Oh joy. Then the atrophy, that's fun. One leg withering away for two months while the other overcompensates. The permanent hitch in her giddy up, the stutter-step hop along slide she has choreographed to compensate during recovery. Recovery, that's a false hope. Just when everything settles back into place it all goes pell mell, yet again. Genetics, he says. Or bad luck. Whatever, it is what it is. Right now, she's concentrating hard on keeping the apple juice down and not inhaling the Dettol and betadine fumes engulfing her. Stale, crusty blood and warm steel. The blocks should wear off within the hour. Then it's about staying ahead of the pain. Once she falls behind, there's no catching up. Thank god for her earbuds. The anasthesiologists have stopped fighting her on wearing them during surgery. Fat Bottomed Girls can ovepower bone saws anyday.

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