Extended Update

First off - thanks to my sweet husband for letting everyone here know that I made it through yesterday alive and in one piece, and thanks to everyone for their replies and well-wishes - they seem to be having an effect just shy of miraculous.

Even though it's a smallish local hospital, Lawrence Memorial is apparently a great place to go for surgery. Everyone I met who worked in the department was cheerful and friendly and helpful - not to the point of hovering, but at least to the point of checking on me periodically, making a photocopy of the newspaper's daily puzzle for my sweetie who was sitting next to me and waiting for the procedure to start, and (of course) of telling me the life history of every pet they've ever owned. Being a veterinarian means never lacking for a conversation topic in any situation.

Of course, it also meant getting extra chat time with the anesthesiologist, and a detailed professional-level explanation of the drugs they'd be using on me. I think it also meant that she believed me when I told her that my last experience with general anesthesia was long, confusing, and less-than-pleasant, and that I really am a featherweight when it comes to just about any drug.

My entire surgical experience went something like this:
*nice nurse pushes me into the prep-room and helps me move onto bed.
*nice anesthesiologist warns me that she's about to give me my pre-med
*hey, that stings. I should ask if that's normal....
*someone is calling my name, and I'm in a different room. And awake. And I even know who I am, and which way is up.
*nurse's aid brings me some water. I ask what her name is. She laughs, and tells me that it's Debbie, but that I won't remember it.
*shouldn't my knee hurt, or something?
*nice old man volunteer wheels me out to where my amazing husband has the car waiting.

I was home before noon. The rest of the day was spent feeling vaguely sleepy, dozing off and on, and reveling in the fact that between naps I was, while not functioning at quite 100% mental and dextrous capacity, at least lucid. The most disturbing part of the entire experience is the fact that my knee feels absolutely normal. I'm at least half worried that once I get to take the mega-huge bandage off tomorrow, I'll find a little post-it note saying 'Ha, ha, fooled you!' and no surgical incision at all. Of course, the lack of pain may also be due to the fact that I'm being scrupulous about staying off my feet and using the Ultra Cybertronic Arthrochill 3000 Hydraulic Ice Machine the hospital gave me.

The Ice Machine, you see, is my new best friend, in a kind of creepy, humming black tubes of suspicious origin sort of way. Somewhere between my knee and the giant bandage encapsulating my leg is a sloshy pad with two scary black rubber tubes emerging. Whenever I'm not doing anything else (which would be approximately always), these tubes get plugged into a strange blue machine with changing-color LEDs that honestly looks like it belongs strapped to the back of a classic Marvel high-tech wonder superhero. This device then gets filled with ice, and constantly circulates cold water through the pad around my knee, which feels a lot better than I thought it would.

I can't get past the thought, though, that I could find some way to use this thing to fight crime or conquer the world, if only I had the imagination and the initiative.....

I haven't had to touch the pain meds the doctor gave me yet, though, and I've still got a sizeable stack of books, DVDs, and handcrafts to keep me entertained. With any luck, by tomorrow I'll be able to walk a little, and think about entertaining company. In the meantime, I'm counting my blessings - it means a lot to me to know I have so many people wishing me well.

Thanks again, y'all.....