Surgery

I’ll be honest. Surgery scares the hell out of me. There’s something odd about sitting around the surgical waiting room waiting for your ‘number’ to be called.

The woman across from me is reading the bible, religious programming plays on the television above me, another mother weeps as her 40+ year old son heads behind closed doors.

What are the expectations here exactly??!!

My dry-mouth companions display a faintly regal tone with IV sceptres in hand and loosely clad surgical robes barely hiding the anxious reality. All majesty is lost, though, as I gaze down at my knee high green compression socks and blue elastic-topped paper bags that are my shoes.

But all the anxiety is for naught. The nurses are incredibly friendly and compassionate and the process is as smooth and painless as can be expected. It is surgery after all.

Dr. Peter Zarkadas works his magic, removing the truck load of hardware from my shoulder while ripping, snipping and tearing as needed to get the arm moving again.

It’s now all up to me now...and my physio-maso-therapist Steve to get the thing back to a semblance of normality.

Folks complain about the medical system here in Canada but, I’ll be honest, it seems pretty amazing from my vantage point. A serious injury taken care of fast and effectively...and it didn't cost me a thing!!