The Priceless Surgery

 

Facts you will need to know for this blog post:

 

Fact 1.   In 2010, I tore all of the ligaments in my left knee while sparring in Taekwondo.

Fact 2.  It was very painful.

Fact 3.  I saw Dr.Korkola, specialist in orthopaedic surgery, who advised that I go for surgery immediately, followed by months of intense physiotherapy and rehab.

Fact 4.  I said no to his suggestion.  Not because I am scared of surgery, but because I am deathly allergic to working out.

Fact 5.  So I have lived with a damaged knee for 8 years.  It’s been annoying, but has not really impaired my life much (probably because I am deathly allergic to working out and will not do so under any circumstance.)

Fact 6.  Dr.Korkola is VERY handsome.

Fact 7.  I’m not quite sure why Fact 6 is important, but knowing me, I feel like it’s something that will come up later in this blog.

 

 

Ok.  Now that those facts are out of the way, let’s get on with the story shall we??

 

 

February 2018

 

It was a quiet Saturday afternoon.

 

I was washing the dishes when I felt it again.

 

The dull, nagging, throbbing of my left knee.

 

Years after the infamous injury of 2010, the pain in my left knee had somewhat subsided, but in recent months, it had come back.  With a vengeance.

 

And after 2 or 3 more unbearably painful days, I had finally booked an appointment with my surgeon.

 

 

On the day of my appointment, I sat in the surgeon’s waiting room doing what I did best – people watching.  There was a mom and her young kid to my right, and a few young women to my left.  Everyone was injured, everyone was in pain and everyone was unhappy. 

 

Until, they saw Dr.Korkola. 

 

And then one by one, the ladies left his office giggling, blushing and waving goodbye, all of them forgetting temporarily about their pained joints.

 

What the heck was going on here??  They were miserable a second ago.  Who is this doctor……a miracle worker??

 

Suddenly I was called. 

 

A deep voice announced “Mizz. Walc?”

 

I stood up carefully, so as to not aggravate my knee any further.  When I finally looked up, I immediately understood the silliness from all of the female patients that had gone in before me.  

 

Ahhh yes. 

 

Handsome Dr.Korkola!  How could I forget!?

 

 

And after his assessment and explanation of my (inevitable) surgery, I too left his office giggling, blushing and waving goodbye.  And temporarily forgetting about my pain, my future day at the hospital, and my upcoming months and months of rehab.

 

 

 

May 2018

 

On the day of my surgery, I sat with Mama in the waiting room at the hospital.  We had arrived “promptly at 7 a.m.” as was written on my Surgery Booklet.

 

For an hour, Mama and I watched the other patients get called into a room by a nurse, get fitted with an IV pole, and subsequently get called in for surgery.

 

But 45 minutes later and  I was still not called in.

 

Mama suddenly whispered, “I didn’t put enough money in da machine.  So I haf to go and put anudder twoonie in.”

 

Mama was speaking of her car, which she had ‘economically’ parked on the other side of the hospital and on the street in order to avoid paying the hefty $15 day pass for the visitor parking lot.  Polish people were VERY thrifty.

 

I nodded my head at Mama and said, “I’m sure they’ll call me in shortly.  So if I’m not here when you come back, look for me in those rooms.  Ok Ma?”

 

Mama was already halfway down the hall when she yelled back in her Polish accent, “Yah yah…no pro-blem!!”

 

 

Mama came back 20 minutes later.  That’s how long it took her to walk to the car and back.  I personally would have just paid the $15 in order to have the car close to the surgery unit….. but I dare not suggest this to my money-saving mother.  I could already hear her response if I did say that…. “Oh yeah, you’re SUCH a millionaire!!”

 

 

Anyway, Mama was shocked to see me still sitting in the waiting room.  When I looked up at her,  I just shrugged my shoulders and rolled my eyes.

 

 

An hour later, and we were STILL sitting there.

 

 

Mama leaned over to look at the hanging clock on the wall and huffed.  She said, “Dammit!  I have to go put money in da stoo-pid machine again.”

 

 

So Mama left again.  And 20 minutes later she came back.   I was still waiting.

 

 

By the THIRD hour, I was practically falling asleep on my chair. 

 

 

I was awoken by Mama nudging me.  Guess what she said?    Yup!!  More money in the stupid machine!  At this point I said, “Mama, just go home.  Don’t worry about me.  The nurses will call you after my surgery.  I’m SURE I’ll be going in soon! 

 

 

Mama finally felt comfortable enough to leave when the nurse reassured me that I was the next to be called in.

 

 

I waited for another 10 minutes in the waiting room.  And then.  I heard it.  That luscious deep voice.

 

“Mizz.Walc.”

 

I looked up to see Handsome Korkola staring and smiling at me.

 

Without thinking, but through an unnaturally HUGE smile, I blurted out, “Dr.K!! Where have you been???  I’ve been waiting for you for 3 hours!!!”  (Then I felt sort of embarrassed for yelling at a surgeon in a hospital.  Perhaps slightly inappropriate?)

 

But he just laughed and blurted back, “I’ve been performing surgeries!  What have you been doing?”

 

I smirked and under my breath said, “I’ve been reading gossip magazines”.

 

He burst out laughing and then led me into the operating room.

 

I felt super cool being escorted by my surgeon – especially when I saw how many assistants and nurses were waiting for us in the stark white room once the large double doors had opened.  I almost felt like someone was going to unroll a red carpet for us.  I wasn’t sure if I should link arms with him as we walked in??  But then I decided that this too may be slightly inappropriate.

 

 

The anesthesiologist asked me to hop up on the bed and he immediately started hooking me up to the IV which subsequently started filling up my veins with cold anesthetic.

 

Dr.Korkola stood over me and smiled and said, “Ready??”

 

I laughed.

 

After 8 years, I was finally able to say to him, “Yes.  I’m ready.”

 

And as I felt my body go tingly, and my eyelids grew heavy, I looked up at my surgeon one last time and whispered one more thing.  And thankfully for me, the anesthetic prevented me from being too giggly or too ridiculous.  

 

“Good luck Dr.K”, I slurred.

 

I don’t remember anything after that.

 

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When I woke up, I didn’t feel good.

 

In fact, I felt awful.  Turns out I had a horrific reaction to the anesthetic.  The same anesthetic that had ever so gently put me to sleep.  It was a silent killer I guess.

 

Anyway, just as Mama came around the corner, she saw me violently throwing up in a small container being held by a nurse.

 

My loving mother gasped and then ran to my bedside and pulled my hair back and grabbed the container from the nurse.

The nurses quickly went into action and put Gravol into my IV drip in order to calm my poor weak stomach.

After about another 15 minutes of throwing up, Mama started looking agitated.  She kept pacing and looking up at the clock.

When I finally started feeling a little bit better, I couldn't help but question Mama's strange behavior. 

But before I did, it finally dawned on me why she was acting all weird.

I wiped my mouth and tried my best not to smirk while I asked....

"Hey Ma.....what's wrong?"

She answered cautiously and nervously...."Ummmm vell, you know, da car.........it needs more money....."

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In conclusion, that was the day that I finally, after 8 years, got my knee repaired. 

That was also the day that Mama had spent $16 on her parked car on the street. 


More than what she would have paid if she would have just purchased a $15 full-day parking pass in the hospital parking lot that was right next to the surgery ward.

Both scenarios , in my opinion, were completely and absolutely........




.........priceless.




;)