If you have read some of my other posts, you may remember I was in a car accident years ago. If you are new to my blog, I am sure you just assumed I had a head injury anyway. I had to undergo seven surgeries, one of which was a condylotomy.
What is a condylotomy, you ask?
Well, allow me to paint you a picture. You are taken into an operating room. The last thing you see before you are put under is a bunch of nurses and surgical staff sitting around eating peanuts and Cracker Jacks as a doctor in a baseball uniform holding a bat, strolls up to you taking his final warm-up swing. Wait a minute! Is this pillow shaped like home plate? HELPPPP! The last words I heard were, "Batter up!"
Next thing I know, I am waking up with my jaw broken and mouth wired shut. Still bleary-eyed from the anesthesia, my focus lands on this hot intern. Okay, I guess I should back up a little. Before I was taken down to surgery, I was sitting in my sexy hospital gown with no make-up on, as nervous as could be, and I saw him walking by. We shared a smile. It wasn't one of those bow-chicka-bow-wow smiles. It was more like a "Dude, I'm about to go into surgery and I'm scared" grin while his
was like a "Yeah, I know. I'm going to slip in the operating room and check out your boobs while you're under."
OK, so back to where we were. I'm out of surgery and in recovery. Hottie intern comes over as I am coming too. He tells me he get my mom and dad to which I yell through clench jaw "Pstb! Flghbsbbs sytp rghstfe," which somehow he knew was jibberish for, "No, please. They will make me talk and won't leave me alone." Like a true prince, he went out and told them I was okay, but they couldn't see me until I was in a room.
He came back, and for the next 4 hours, he never left my bedside. He told me how he went to school to be a pediatrician and was now doing his internship. He shared some other stuff I was too drugged up to remember.
"You know, you're a really great listener."
Yeah, morphine will do that to you.
"I'm sorry it's taking so long for them to get you a room," he said, his kind brown eyes promising he would stay with me until they did. People that had come out of surgery after me had already been taken to their rooms hours ago. But I still had no room.
"Hmbfffffqt ftd bpfffft mmrt ffffffffffffffft," I replied. (Jibberish for "As long as I'm in a room by the time Friends come on, we're good.")
"Oh, you're a Friends fan? Well, don't worry. I'll make sure you're in a room in time to watch the season finale."
"Ffffpbt, (thanks)," I muttered, smiling. At least, I think I was smiling.
Several hours later, my room finally became available. My handsome brown-eyed intern wheeled me up himself instead of tasking the orderlies with the job.
"See, I told you I'd get you up here in time for Friends. I've got connections," he said with a wink. "Unfortunately, I don't think I'll make it home to watch ER."
OMG! Is he hitting on me? Does he want me to ask him to stay and watch ER?
Just as I was contemplating how to make my move, my mom and dad came in, full of concern, and drilling me with questions.
"You don't want to make her talk right now. She needs to rest, so please don't ask her any questions because she can't and shouldn't answer them right now," he informed my parents, giving me another wink. I gave him a big smile...or not, I was pretty doped up. He squeezed my hand, whispering something to me that I don't recall, and then left my room.
The next morning, I woke up hoping I would get to see the hot intern before my parents came to get me. My mind wandered to the previous night. Had he wanted me to ask him to stay? What sweet nothing had he whispered in my ear? Just then my mom entered the room, gasping and making one of those horrified faces you see people make when they see something terrifying like a car crash or when they remove the lid of a really great box of chocolate, only to find someone else ate the last piece and left the empty box on the counter (those people should be shot by the way).
"Oh my God, look at her face," my mom exclaimed. I guess she thought I'd still look the same or that the swelling would go down overnight, but it hadn't. My dad tried to cover with an, "You're always beautiful to me" comment, so I knew it must be bad.
"Can I have a mirror?" I asked and viewed myself for the first time since the surgery.
Two ice packs were wrapped around the sides of my face tied together in a big ol' sexy over-sized bow on top of my head and under my chin. My cheeks looked like I was a squirrel packing nuts for the winter. My face was a lovely tie-dye combination of black, purple, and yellow with the slightest whisper of green - colors I had never seen before and would never see again in nature or anywhere else. This blend of colors extended from my insanely puffy eyes all the way down to my swollen neck.
Damn, I looked hot!
I did what any normal person would do. I laughed.
"Don't forget these," the nurse said handing me what looked like a pair of pliers. Remember to keep them with you at all times."
"Why? What are these for?" I mumbled.
"Don't you remember?'" my mom asked. "When the intern was leaving last night, he handed you these and whispered, "These are in case you throw up so you don't choke to death on your vomit.'
Has a man ever spoken such sweet, thoughtful words to a woman? I knew I should have asked him out. He definitely wanted me. Any girl with ice packs tied to her purple-blue face and comes with her own vomit pliers just screams "Catch!" Doesn't she?
