ION, I am so freaking happy to be home right now, I don't even know. I don't get how people with the big crazy jobs don't kill themselves. I've just had two 12-hour days in a row and even with a couple of hours this afternoon basically staring into space, I am WHIPPED.

Sounds like Emmett was a trooper. Glad he wasn't pukey from the anesthesia, too.

Nope, he was eating pizza less than an hour out of the hospital. He really was a trooper. Except when they took out the IV. Then there were tears. But that lasted about 2 minutes.

I was all Valium'd out, and knew I had to flex my left fist to pop the veins for the anasthesia. I did. They inserted it. The surgeon said, "Um, Alex, you can stop that and put your arm down now." I started to, and before I hit the arm I was standing with my coat on, ready to leave, having been in the recovery room for 15 minutes already.

I also vaguely remember signing some more insurance forms and leaving through the front door, which my friend Vinney (the ASCII weasel, my driver for the day) said was impossible, I didn't sign anything, and we left through the back so as to not scare the next few patients waiting for surgery.

Valium + anaesthesia + Alex = FREAKSHOW. Emmett sounds like a real human (what do you expect from me, with the April 1 birthday? Normalcy? I'm made of POLYPROPYLENE, much like Klaus Nomi. Less soprano falsetto, though - not none, just less.)

Yay Emmett. I'm amazed at youngsters like him. I'm such a big ball of weird. :)

Needle in, and then coming out of, arm often = owwie, as I know from giving platelets and etc. And I do that on purpose!

Anesthesia is weird. Granted that you don't want to be conscious for surgery, it's still like just losing a big chunk of time. The last thing I remember before my surgery was the anesthesiologist telling me they were going to increase the anesthesia, and then the very next thing I knew, I was in a hospital room, sitting up in bed and mid-sentence, having a conversation with my parents. I have no idea what I said prior to that, but I was chatting away. And Jaws was on the TV in my room, which is sort of surreal to see when you come out of surgery.

When my brother was little, he had his tonsils out. I remember how pathetic he looked when they unloaded him from the car. He remembers how cool his technicolor popsicle puke looked on one of the hospital people. He had good drugs.

I had my wisdom teeth out under local when I was 17. I still hate my dentist. I didn't get good drugs.

American Idol commercial this week has them as muppets!

I got nitrous for my wisdom teeth, and it seemed like I was all the way out -- at least, I don't remember any of it once I stopped wanting to say really inappropriate things to the dentist.

Oh! And then there is my dad. He's had some, um, interesting surgeries. (Including bone breakings he WANTED to stay awake for, and provided running commentary to everyone's amusement.) Apparently, he likes telling really really bawdy jokes going in & out of under. And sometimes doesn't stay under. But remains a smart ass. "I'm waking up. Can't feel anything and you guys look goofy, but waking up." His last surgeon (general anasthwha) told my mom that his was the funniest surgery he'd ever attended.

Given the nature of the surgery, my mom was torn between annoyance and hysterical laughter.

I remember being on painkillers after surgery - When I had my eyes open I was talking to a friend who was there to see me, and when I closed my eyes I immediatly went into a lucid dream where I was talking to someone else. I opened my eyes and continued talking to my friend, then closed my eyes again and went back to dreaming... this went on for about five minutes - very weird