Introducing the Amazing Sledge-o-Matic

It slices, it dices, it makes julienne fries (but you have to hit it juuussst right).

The great surgery experience:

4:00 am We rouse ourselves out of nice cosy warm beds to get ready, I shower with the provided anti-bacterial soap, noting that it doesn't smell nice, doesn't suds much, and leaves me feeling slippery after it is rinsed off.

5:30 am In the car driving to the hospital. I start coughing, begin to gag, and spend the entire trip trying not to barf.

6:00 am In the same-day care suite, disrobed and wearing the ever-popular hospital gown, complete with matching blue shoes covers, hair bonnet, and anti-embolism stockings. Where's the fashion photographers?

from 6:15 to seven it's a whirlwind of activites: blood sugar checked, IV line in place, blood pressure checked, anesthesiologist met, surgeon comes by to see how I'm doing, I'm first this morning.

7:00 am We've hit a snag. They want me to remove my wedding band and diamond ring, but NO WAY those suckers are coming off. You've seen trees with fencing stapled to them, where the tree just continues to grow around and over the fencing? That's my wedding band. They lubed it up, put teflon tape under it,pulled and pulled, and all it did was turn my finger more puffy and red. The anesth. dr. comes back, says, I don't like the looks of that, it has to come off, and sends one of the nurses to the ER to get their ring cutter. As she walks in with it, the surgeon pokes his head in, says, what's the holdup? Looks at the finger, says tape it and lets go, and wheeee, we're rolling down the hall. Oh yes, at that point they also gave me some happy juice. By the time we actually reach the OR, I am gone.

Around ten am -- who can see anything without glasses -- and I am trying to wake up really hard. It is very bright, and the nurses are arguing about one of the other nurses. Every once in a while they say "M? time to wake up", but I cannot pry my eyelids apart; I can't figure out where I am, or why I feel so awful. I am panicked that they have me in restraints, but I realize it's only that they've tucked my hands slightly under me, and I can move them. Finally they use a lift to change me onto a regular hospital bed, much better, and then they wheel me to the private room across the hall. N is there, he has spoken to the surgeon, and other than having a gallbladder "stuffed" with gall stones--they had to partially empty it to get it through the incision--I'm tip top. They give me a shot for pain and nausea, and I break out in hives. Luckily they go away on their own in just a few minutes.

1:00 pm By now I have walked, used the bathroom (bless the soul of whoever invented grab bars) eaten a cracker and drunk some ginger ale. I want very much to get home before the pain shot wears off.

2:30 pm Home! My, but the roads are bumpy. But my wonderful bed, so clean and cool, a cat curled up in my armpit, drugs coursing their way in my bloodstream, beaming little silver spotlights on the nasty ol' pain to make it go away, whoosh! All is well in redhead-land. For now.