So, it looks like surgery for my mom.

Hernia.  Should be straightforward, but she’s 77 and nothing’s reliably straightforward at that age. Prayers would be appreciated.

Also: I will be doubly careful not to bite anybody’s head off today, but I am running on about four hours’ sleep and it wasn’t fun sleep.


Two pieces of advice for post-surgery hypochondriacs .

Not that I’m suggesting that I am one, at all, at all.  Anyway: two suggestions (one serious, one not-so-serious).

  • (Serious): If you’re worried whether a particular incision and/or suture (that looks bloody awful, or at least it does to your untrained eye) is healing properly, or whether it’s getting worse, take a picture* of it and check it several hours later, or the next day.  That should let you tell ‘it’s getting worse’ from the ‘no, that was pretty much how it looked all along.’
  • (Not-so-serious): If you’re going to have surgery that results in bruising, try to get the phlebotomist to muck up your IV so that you’ll get a bruise on your arm, too.  That way, when you wake up to discover that the Bruise Fairy has come to your bedside in order to give you a present, you’ll have a handy (pardon the pun) baseline with which to compare the results – and not incidentally, keep you from panicking.

No, no thanks necessary for these helpful pro-tips.  I’m a giver.

Moe Lane

*I’ll spare you the pictures.  As I said: I’m a giver.

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