Journal: Friday, May 5, 2006

I had minor surgery this morning, and it turned out to be – strangely enough – a gratifying experience. It was an outpatient procedure, so I spent last night at home (a good sleep), and awoke early for a “pre-op” walk in the park, which was especially lovely on this spring morning. The trees were overflowing with young leaves and blossoms, a mild breeze was moving here and there, and an air of peaceful solitude pervaded the entire place. I strolled peacefully along, listening to the morning bird songs and thinking comforting thoughts. My son Matt drove me to the hospital at 6:30, and by 7:00 I was on the table, fading off into oblivion as the sedative I-V dripped into my arm. The nurse who prepared me for the procedure was gentle and calming, as was the doctor and the assistant. In what seemed like seconds, I was woozily awakening in the recovery room. As I gradually regained my senses, I was carefully tended to for another hour or so, once again by nurses who knew the value of kindness and consideration. They seemed to be constantly smiling, and spoke only in the softest and most gracious tones. As I was finally wheeled down to the taxi that would drive me the few blocks to my house, I wondered how it is that an inconvenient and somewhat scary thing like surgery can end up being almost a pleasant experience.