I'm back from the shoulder decompression and feelin' fine. This is less due to my strength of character than to the implant of a pain-killing drip. I'm also hooked up to a tube that circulates ice water around the area. And I'm typing left-handed, which looks like a caffeinated rooster having a sneezing fit in front of a keyboard.
Pre-op was routine. I told the anesthesiologist that if I started seeing a tunnel with a bright light, then I'd know he screwed up. He did not smile. I then recall a period of grogginess that lasted 6 or 7 seconds, then poof...woke up in the recovery room to a nurse saying, "Hey there, big guy!" I immediately was astounded by being pain-free. I've awakened in many a recovery room to sheer agony so this was very cool.
I asked the nurse if the color of my new prosthetic arm looked okay and she failed to see the humor either. Eventually, Carole and I got to leave. She took me to a Sonic since I was beyond famished. Upon leaving there, we had our first post-op crisis. I dropped my straw down between my seat and the door. So she stopped the car, got out, came over to my side, bent over, and started fishing for the elusive straw. It was way down there below the track and she got into immediate trouble. Her wedding ring got stuck between two metal parts of the track. It took her two painful minutes to extricate the ring and the one-cent straw. I just had to sit there and watch with the forlorn feeling that care-recipients have when they're helpless to help those helping them.
Anyway, all is well. Thanks for the prayers. But I may be calling you when the pain-drip runs out.