Surgery Part 1

Hello readers if there are any. Just thought I'd post about the actual day of my surgery.

Sanchez picked me up at the hotel right on time and drove me over to Santa Engracia hospital. The hospital was new, clean, sweet smelling, very nicely decorated, and quite posh. As we entered I saw many differenet groups of professional looking, apparently well-heeled Mexican citizens walking about on their own hospital business. Not to sound like a snob, but the fact that these people had the look and mannerisms of professionals reassured me that this hospital would be a place of choice for many, suggesting high quality and good reputation.

Sanchez, my driver, escorted me, carrying my bag to the cashier's window where I smoothly paid the correct fee for the gastric sleeve. There was not, nor was there ever, a single question or "misunderstanding" about the financial aspect of the whole thing. Everything was totally on the up and up. We then went to the admitting office where I was admitted just as a person would be in a US hospital. The admittance clerk was polite, professional, and very kind.

I went upstairs to the surgery prep area where I was given a bag for my passport, wallet, cell phone, jewelry, and any other valuables. This bag was signed and sealed, I was given the ID portion, and the bag was then locked in the hospital safe. I put on the normal surgery garb - booties, cap, and gown. My bag of other essentials for the stay was secured in a locker with the key attached to my bed so it would stay with me through the surgery.

As soon as I was laying in bed in the surgery room Doctor Zapata came and talked to me. He was the kindest, most caring, genuine man. He made me feel calm and secure. The nurse, also very kind and caring, came and inserted the IV - Dr. Zapata held my hand the entire time. She injected me with something to "relax me." As Dr. Zapata held my hand and spoke soothingly to me, in my relaxed and woozy state I must admit I remember thinking, "Dr. Zapata, would you marry me?" I am quite sure I did not say these words out loud, for which both I, Dr. Zapata, and hopefully my husband should all be very grateful.

The next thing I knew, with no waiting whatsoever, the anesthesiologist arrived. She was a lady, very professional, who explained to me exactly what would happen before the surgery and that I would know nothing, feel nothing, and remember nothing. This very kind lady spoke perfect English and made me feel entirely secure. This was a confident, capable woman and I immediatly felt trust in her for what she would do.

Before I knew it we were moving into the operating theater. The electrodes, the blood pressure cuff, all the accoutrements were on me. My anesthesiologist said with a smile, "Now you'll go to sleep, and when you wake up it will be all over." Poof. I was gone.