Syncope Schmyncope

Well, I just finished up a solid 20 hour episode of anxiety sweats! Late yesterday morning, one of the doctors I work with asked his
Neurosurgeon BFF* if I could go to the OR to watch a neurosurgery, and he said yes. My butt clenched with delight, I canceled all of today's obligations, and then proceeded to exude a fine mist of excitement and panic that lasted until 6am this morning.

I felt pretty calm once I met Neurosurgeon BFF. He showed me CT scans of the almost-bursting blood vessel they were going to go in and clip off, which looked pretty much exactly like this:

Gonna getcha.

I acted super casual when I got inside the operating room. I picked out a pretty good place to stand and crossed my arms over my chest like I was used to standing there. Same ol'. I maintained a really nonchalant facial expression while the nurses were preparing the patient, but as soon as the surgeon sliced open the patient's scalp, I was really glad I had a face mask on because my mouth was hanging open with absolutely no inhibition.

So I hovered really close to the open head and asked Neurosurgeon BFF some really intelligent questions like, "so is that going to heal?" (Seriously.) Things were going really well until right before he drilled through the skull, because that's when I realized that he was going to actually going to drill through a skull. Suddenly, all of yesterday's anxiety sweats converged their powers. I was hot and dizzy and my vision was blurring. So as not to fall directly into someone's brain, I chose to exit quickly into the hallway.

I stood there for a second and then PLONK-- I was suddenly on my face, surrounded by nurses, and looking at 2 of my teeth on the floor. If this does not strike you as confusing, then the only analogy I can liken it to is the half-dreams you have when you're waking up from a really deep sleep-- ahhh yes...if I whap this orange pool noodle on this driveway in Southern California five times then a little portion of Mt. St. Helens will pop up, right here! wait...who? St. Helens?

Luckily, the emergency room was two floors above me, and the oral surgeon on-call was there to push half of one of my teeth back in. It went just fine, plus I was surprised with the warm reception! I was "welcomed to the club" by two doctors, and given long lists of other people who had fainted during surgery as well. Some were important.

I have a few months of root canals and fake teeth scheduled, but hopefully I'll look normal again by June. Which coincidentally, is my birthday month. I should probably revise my birthday wish list to include my two front teeth.

HA!



*At a glance, this phrase looks like Neutrogena SPF. Probably because of this. And because I'm slightly more familiar with chapstick than neurosurgery.