I was at the hospital waiting in pre-op (yes, my second surgery of the 2020) watching through the small opening of my curtain, biding my time. Mind you–I wasn’t peeking between the curtains. I was looking at the movement from my bed. Can you imagine me with my eye at the curtain gap, my other hand holding my gown together in the back? In fact, please don’t.
At any rate, the staff marched around with great purpose and what looked like efficiency. Who am I to judge whether or not they were efficient? 🤷🏻♀️ They looked like they had a purpose and were carrying out their tasks without delay.
It’s funny what perspective will do for a person. I highly recommend a fresh perspective, although perhaps without the surgery. For example, peering between the patient privacy curtain, I spied a lot of different colored scrubs, and despite previously seeing them/knowing about them, for some reason, it fascinated me. Also, maybe I was just “blind” (no corrective lenses) and bored and a little nervous.
The brown transport scrubs contrasted more with the different shades of green and blue. It felt very much like what I would imagine being inside the Death Star would be like right down to the cold surfaces and equipment. The movement, the variety of uniforms that were both the same yet different. The imperious movement and shuttling of equipment.
Needless to say, it was somewhat entertaining.
Please give me some slack on the entertaining part–I was waiting for surgery which was not nearly as entertaining as waiting for my knee surgery at the surgery center. I’ll take entertainment in the little things as much as I can, especially if it takes my mind off of any scary possibilities.
This happened back in December, so the season finale of The Mandalorian was waiting for me (yes, obsessed). Our family also rewatches some (one year all) of the Star Wars movies over the holidays. We also look forward to our annual late night viewing (the last show of the night) of the new Star Wars movie. We plan the date and buy advance tickets–geeks, I know. There wasn’t a movie this year and even if there was, well Covid. Although we probably would’ve watched it on demand at that late night slot (if offered) because it’s one of our wonderful and strange traditions.
I’m including this to say a couple of things: we are a Star Wars family, although we do watch Star Trek and only give our friend Darin grief because he’s a huge Trekkie. Don’t worry, he enjoys the banter. 😉 The Mandalorian obsession is an extension of this–I don’t know what I’d call it. Tradition? Hobby? Things we enjoy as a family?
Secondly, throughout the season, I’ve been including something about either The Mandalorian or baby Yoda (Grogu but still baby Yoda in my heart 💚) in most newsletters. I even mentioned in my Friday Tomfoolery Newsletter that it was “Baby Yoda day” as well as having a date with the Mandalorian. 😂
And lastly, you need to understand my great joy and obsession to understand the last part of this story…
Fast forward to post-op. The grip of anesthesia is loosening and I’m very slowly becoming aware of my surroundings. I hear music. Not any music–it’s orchestral and it sounds very similar to the soundtrack of The Mandalorian.
I totally felt as if I were in an episode of The Mandalorian!
It was the weirdest thing especially since I was cognizant enough to know I wasn’t dreaming and wasn’t at home. I’m still not sure if it was my personal obsession with the show coupled with anesthesia playing tricks on me or what. Everything was hazy and I was moving in and out of consciousness. I think that the anesthesia was super strength (compared to the knee–just conjecture, not a medical professional) because this surgery was twice as long and dealt with my head.
When I’m finally able to communicate somewhat, I tell Chief about the music (he agrees) and the nurse says, “Oh, that’s my epic playlist. It’s supposed to be inspirational.”
OMG. My people, my people! I love that she used the word “epic” (on my list of favorites, although I know it can be overused or is “tired”) and that’s she trying to be inspirational for her patients! I wasn’t necessarily inspired, per se, as much as transported. Isn’t that fantastic? Transported.
Come to think of it, that’s a cool word as well. Transported.
So while this surgery didn’t include as much comedy gold as my knee surgery, I did walk away with this memory. The music, the haziness (drugs and lack of corrective lenses 🤷🏻♀️), and the surreal nature of these observations have stuck with me. I don’t do them justice here and perhaps that’s because my brain is still trying to process the whole event.