Who knew that getting ready for surgery would be so difficult? I figured I would fly to Minneapolis, get my rib fixed, and jet right home. It is not quite so simple. It turns out that I have to stay in Minneapolis for a week so I can go to a post-op visit. What a nerve, the surgeon, the aforementioned Dr. Grail, wants to see me after surgery.
A mad search was initiated by my parents (who are accompanying me) and me to locate an appropriate post-surgical abode. A quick look on VRBO, a vacation rental site, brought up some interesting finds.
Here is a complaint from one reviewer on what looked like a perfectly reasonable condo:
“When we walked down in the basement to the 3rd bedroom, it was quite disgusting to see dog poop on the bedroom floor! When I told owner of this the next morning, she acted as though that could not be. We had no pets with us so it did not come from us.”
Can you imagine walking into a rental condo and finding a pile of crap on the floor? That does not sound like a very sanitary way to convalesce from surgery!
Another rental met our criteria and we were about jump on it until we received a cautionary email from the listing site:
“As part of our quality control procedures, we have suspended this listing until we can obtain more information from the advertiser. If we do not receive information that is sufficient to reinstate the listing, it will no longer appear on our site.”
If you are like me, than your curiosity is brewing over, wondering what heinous act the people who listed this property committed. Obviously it is much worse than dog poop on the floor. Dead body, maybe?
We decided, ultimately, to stay in a hotel about 20 minutes away from the hospital. It is near a lake and a bike path that you can run, bike or rollerblade on. It sounds perfect… for the one run I will be able to do the day before surgery.
Speaking of the hospital, did I mention that I am seeing a pediatric surgeon and that I am having the surgery done at a Children’s hospital? I have images of going to clinic and sitting in an itty-bitty chair reading Highlights magazine. I think I am required to bring a stuffed animal with me.
As a registered patient at a Children’s Hospital, I am receiving mail addressed to “the parents of Joanna Zeiger.” One of the letters from the clinic informed the parents of Joanna Zeiger, “your child needs to have a physical within 30 days of the surgery”.
I cannot remember the last time I had a routine physical, but I am thinking it might be the mandatory athletes’ physical I had my sophomore year of college. At that time, all I had to do was touch my toes, which I could easily do, impressing the doctor who had just seen the football team. I heard from another athlete those guys couldn’t even see their toes. In this instance, I need an EKG, a chest x-ray, and to answer a host of probing questions. I hope I pass; otherwise the house hunt was for naught.
I really want to run to the hospital the morning of the operation, but I have to be there at 5:30am making this an untenable option. I just think that would be so cool. I would say to Dr. Grail “Sorry I am a little stinky, but I ran here this morning. Hopefully, you slept in, though. You have a big day.”