Watch What Happens When I Press...Here!

The operating room didn't look like I thought it would. The predominant colors were white and gray, but I was expecting something...brighter, I guess. There were about six other people in the room that I could see, and all of them had a particular job they were getting ready for. The anaethesiologist and his student assistant gave me a shot to get things moving.

One thing you don't hear about very often is that you're going to be awake during the surgery. This is to make sure they don't do something that'll turn you into a country music fan or vote for Sarah Palin. So while I was getting anaesthesia, I wouldn't be out the whole time. They could and would be giving me something to make me forget about it though. So I had that going for me.

I got all warm and calm and they put a little tent up to cover my eyes. Probably for the best. There was classical music playing somewhere and we were off to the races.

They kept asking me questions. First, to make sure I was cognizant and second to check the progress of the anaesthesia. The questions were pretty basic -- stuff like "what day is it?" and "what's your wife's name" as well as whether or not I felt anything. I felt calm through all of it.

Because of the drugs, my memory of the actual surgery is a little hazy. One thing I remember quite clearly is the sound of my skull being opened. It sounds pretty much like you'd expect -- kind of a wet crunch and a crack. It didn't scare me and I didn't freak out. They were talking to each other and doing their thing. I could've been at the beach as far as I was concerned. I just kept talking and answering questions. Hopefully the line of questioning was on the up and up. I probably would've sung like a canary on all sorts of topics and had no memory of them afterwards. You could learn a lot about someone.

It took some time to get to the tumor, but when he did I remember there being some comments. Stuff like, "Here's the first sample" and so on. They sent it to a pathologist. I remember thinking that the fucking pathologist better be in the goddamn room next door and not across town. I also remember wondering how it would be presented to him/her. Would it be in a jar? Raced across town in an Igloo cooler? In some guy's hand?

I don't know how long it took for him/her to check it out, but the doctor asked me if it'd be okay for them to get another sample of the tumor for future reference and so students could study it since it was so rare.
Well, since you have the hood up, why the hell not? I said sure. If it would prevent anyone else from having to go through this, I'm all for it.

At this point the doctor reiterated that I should tell him if I felt anything. I did. It felt as if there was a thick string connecting my ears and someone was plucking it. It didn't hurt and it didn't make me piss my pants or anything, but it's not something you'd really like to experience if you can help it.

I said "Hey!"

Things got real quiet.

The doctor calmly asked if I was alright. I replied that it was fine, but it felt as if someone was tugging on the aforementioned string. He took a deep breath and said "okay." Things progressed without incident.

I don't remember much after that, but I do remember being wheeled out of the operating room, thanking everyone for doing such a great job. I have no idea if it was polite and classy or more like Motley Crue leaving the stage after a concert. Probably the latter. "Thank you! Goodnight Tulsa!"