"Procedure" defined

A recap from yesterday's "procedure":  Upon arriving at the hospital and the pre-admission process, I was escorted back to my room for the prep process.  I must say, I was impressed with the accuracy and verification process as I had to recite my name, birthdate, Doctor's name, and the purpose of my visit 3 times to insure that I was indeed the right person whom was going to be administered the "procedure".  (They obviously could have benefited from having a  fully restored Factorcrap Truthometer Deluxe like we have here at FTI.)    Following that, my nurse gave me an overview of what to expect  and a litany of questions concerning my health habits:  Do I smoke? Do I drink? (What?  Are you kiddin'?), etc.   Finally, a young Doogie Howser-like doctor comes into my room apologizing for carrying a cup of coffee ( I had been fasting for 36 hours to this point and would kill for coffee) and introduces himself.  We make the obligatory small talk and then I realize, "Here I am, handing my ass to a complete stranger with complete trust and absolutely no recourse if this whole thing goes south."

Wheeled back into the operating room, I am introduced to 2 female nurses, Sandy and Sherry.  Both are very pleasant types whom are going about their tasks with a very workman-like efficiency while chatting with me the whole time.  I once again have to verbally give them, my name, birthdate, and purpose of my visit to make sure they've got the right asshole (literally and figuratively) in front of them for the purpose at hand.  Satisfied I am who I claim to be and realizing I have now reached the point of no return, one of the nurses asks for authorization to begin the sedative.  Imagining myself as a poor man's  James Bond, I asked if it would be appropriate to try to fight the effects of the drugs.   All 3 exclaimed, "No!  This is the one time it's legal to enjoy drugs. "  The last thing I remember is to ask the 2 women was, "Now, you girls aren't going to peek, are you?"   The doctor pipes up, "Ah, don't worry.  After the first 30, the novelty kind of wears off."  We were all laughing and everything quickly fades to black. 

Re-emerging from the fog, I sense I am now back in my room with Mrs. Kfred rubbing my cold feet and a nurse offering me a glass of Sprite.  Apparently, the doctor has already come in , declared me "clean as a whistle, no problems, and good for another 10 years."  One of the narcotics given during the procedure causes an amnesia state where the patient does not remember anything.  Apparently during the procedure they had to administer some more anesthesia because of some discomfort.  I imagine this is why, I find out later,  I asked Mrs. Kfred 4 times what she had been doing during my absence,  I asked the doctor the condition of my appendix (?),  and I signed a statement acknowledging that I had been given care.  None of these events do I recall. 

So, that's it.  The Grand Event is over.  I am good to go and back in the saddle.  In celebration of success and as a little gift to myself, Mrs. Kfred are I headed south to visit Freako beginning Thursday for a couple of days.  A little warm weather, some sunshine,  a lot of wine.  I can't wait.   Other than Dickie the Peap, I don't know of anyone whom would sneak into a hospital to have this type of procedure willingly done to them voluntarily.  As a parting gift, I received 3 color images of the probed area.  I have no idea why I requested these during my "don't remember" stage, but, apparently I did.  I am thinking of including these in our newest brochure under the "Meet the Staff" section.  Do you think anyone one would question it?