I had knee surgery last week.  It was the first time I had gone under the knife in over twenty years.  So, of course I laid the male bravado on pretty thick to family and friends, letting them know it was no big deal.  But deep down, there were butterflies.  How long would the procedure take?  How brutal would my recovery be?  Would I have a cool scar to show off afterwards?

I told my family not to stay at the hospital during the surgery.  I would just call them when I was finished.  As soon as I walked into the reception area, I realized that I was the only one who was by himself.  Everyone else had family and friends by their side to support them.  No problem!  I was a real man.  I didn’t need anyone with me.  But here’s the thing about not having someone with you to share a conversation…your mind tends to wonder.  Just how routine is this knee surgery?  Why had I filled out three different forms asking me if I had a Living Will?  Did my doctors finish in the top 10% of their class or the bottom?  My butterflies were quickly turning into smaller versions of Mothra.

I was called to the registration desk to fill out more admission paperwork.  The young lady who was in charge of this process noticed I had my Kindle Fire with me and immediately pulled hers out to show me.  She acted excited to see another Kindle Fire user and we talked for 15 minutes about how much we both loved the tablet and used it all the time.  For a short while, I’d forgotten all about my impending doom.  It was a nice break.

Next, I was escorted back to the Pre-Op section of the hospital where I had to change into a gown.  Like I said before, it had been a while since I’d been through this process, so you can imagine my embarrassment when I was told to put my boxers back on.  After that wardrobe malfunction, I was put into a bed and had an IV administered as well as my blood pressure taken.  My BP reading of 190 over 65 dispelled any misconceptions that I was “cool” with this surgery.  I had two wonderful nurses who oversaw this part of the process.  They were warm and friendly and acted like I was a guest in their home.  They comforted me to the point where I cracked a few jokes and they laughed like they were listening to a Jerry Seinfeld stand-up routine.  And for those of you who know me and my sense of humor…you know this could not be further from the truth.  But I appreciated their laughter in an effort to relax me.

Before I knew it, it was time for the main event.  I was wheeled into the operating room where the doctors were waiting for me.  I had asked to stay awake during the surgery and the doctors agreed to it.  They numbed me from the waist down and went to work.  With medical tools (which I have no idea what their official names are…I called them the biter and the sucker) being inserted into my knee, believe it or not, that’s not the part of the surgery that I’ll remember.  What I’ll always remember is the conversation that took place between the doctors, nurses and myself.  They knew I was a Colts fan and gave me a hard time about everything from the Colts letting Peyton Manning go, to sneaking out of Baltimore in the 1980’s!  Here I was, instead of concentrating on the shiny silver weapons of destruction inside of my knee, I was defending my beloved Colts.  The conversation then turned to Duck Dynasty and a few other shows and then… BAM!  It was over and I was off to the Post-Op room.

The treatment I received here was par for the course.  They were friendly and sincere and kept reminding me that I was very close to going home.  A few of the nurses found out that I was an author and even bought some books from me.  I know, I know…these may have been pity sales, but I’ll take them!

Looking back, all the folks that I dealt with through this ordeal had obviously done this hundreds of times before.  They knew exactly what I needed and when I needed it.  Each, in their own way, was able to take my mind off of the surgery, make me feel normal (while wearing an undersized gown), and calm any fears I may or may not have had.

In the real world, I have no idea what other folks need or when they need it.  But I’ve learned that there are a few gestures we can always offer up to others.  Encouragement, compliments and smiles.  I know that my more cynical friends will ask, “Why not add rainbows and unicorns?”  But I stand by my list.  Everyone experiences hard times in life.  No matter what someone is going through, it’s amazing the positive effect that a word of encouragement, a simple compliment or a quick smile can have.  And even if any of these aren’t needed, they are most definitely always welcome!

Thank you to the doctors, nurses and administrative staff at the Winchester Surgi-Center for the care that I received and for the behavior that I hope to model!