OK, that was good.  Now touch the bottom of your foot to the inside of your other leg.  Good.  Now the other one.

Now put your feet on the floor and tap your toes up and down.  Good.

Now touch your thumb to each of your fingertips.  Good, now the other hand.

Now touch your index finger to mine and then touch your nose.  Good, now the index finger of your other hand.

The description of a new field sobriety test? 

No, just a few of the dexterity tests administered a couple of days ago in the hospital after my surgery.  It was the third such surgery for me, each involving my spine, and therefore each involving my spinal cord to one degree or another.

Apart from the expected planning for a hospital stay, “getting one’s affairs in order,” and the interruption of usual activities, I didn’t think much about anything other than those things, and of course the anticipated pain of recovery afterwards.  Well, not on the first two occasions, anyway.

Somehow this, the third time, has turned out to be different.

Having been through similar surgery before had led to a somewhat casual approach to this most recent one, sort of a been-there-done-that lackadaisical view.  It was a good thing, I suppose, in that it kept pre-surgery jitters to a minimum.

On the other hand, there was a brief moment, sitting there on the edge of the hospital bed the day after surgery, after I passed those little dexterity tests, when I realized that I had been taking an awful lot for granted.  The thoughts of it all came back to me again last night as I lay in bed waiting for the muscle relaxer and pain pills to take hold and give me some relief from my once again slightly elongated spinal column that requires the muscles to lengthen or else. 

[And there is no “or else.”  I liken the feeling to a permanent charley horse, and the strategy of the game is to medicate long enough to pass through the period when the muscles finally decide this is the new required length and they get with the program,  stretching out a bit.]  

Taking it all for granted though, that all will be well and functional after it’s all over, is a bit of a stretch, too, I think.  No, I am sure of it.  Absolutely sure.

Considering the fact that the spinal cord is the conduit and main trunk wiring for virtually all bodily functions, and that it was being manipulated once again high up there in the neck area, there is no doubt in my mind that no matter how many times a surgeon performs such a task, it is never truly routine.   

I’m thankful though, that I am confident and comfortable enough in my medical care that I can take it for granted, even though I shouldn’t.  My ability to take the outcome for granted, that I will continue to be able to walk, talk, breathe, move all that usually moves, et cetera, though not wise in and of itself, is a good thing because I can tell myself I have chosen wisely.

The second surgeon to have diagnosed and discussed the spinal situation with me, but the only one I have chosen to have actually performed surgery, Dr. Paul Sawin is a source of confidence and comfort.  With his neat, low key sense of humor, and the patience to answer every question (and I ask many), communication between surgeon and patient couldn’t be better.  And if results speak to technical competence, he is truly expert at what he does.

It’s rather nice I think that I have the option of taking things for granted, even when they are serious things.  Such is the value of being in the hands of someone I trust implicitly.

Now, if we could just do something about that hospital green Jell-O…