Junior Mints are NOT allowed in my operating room
They called me the surgical virgin (sung like Steve Miller’s “The Joker”).
I went my first sixty-two years without anyone cutting on my body. No tonsils. No appendix. Not even a wisdom tooth. It surprised some of my friends who had had ten or more surgeries. That's how I came by the nickname.
That changed on April 15, 2015.
Surgery number one was for Melanoma. I remember being in the operating room and being surprised there wasn't a balcony where people could watch. I asked the doctor about it. He said, “This isn't Seinfeld.” I said to him, “It's a good thing. No Junior Mints will be dropped into my body.”
It's nine years later, and I'm still here, so apparently surgery number one was successful. But, do you think after you have the first one it leads to having more? Hmmm.
Since that day in 2015, I had a double hernia in 2017 (done by the cutest doctor ever!), Kidney stone removal in 2018, Mohs surgery for skin cancer in 2019, another Mohs surgery in 2021, stomach surgery plus three procedures to remove kidney stones in 2022 and then came last year.
In March, I had surgery to repair a torn bicep. As soon as I recovered, I tore my rotator cuff in the same arm. That led to another surgery in June. I basically spent 2023 in either an OR or physical therapy.
One thing all these procedures had in common was none of them had a viewing balcony. No one would watch. No one would be eating any Junior Mints.
When the calendar turned over into 2024, my only resolution was that this would be the year of no surgeries.
None! Zero! Nada! Zip!!!
And for the first three months of the year, things were looking good. But then one afternoon I went for a walk. As it was coming to an end, my left leg suddenly buckled. There was some pain but nothing major. I went to urgent care to have it checked out. They recommended an MRI. It came back with a torn meniscus.
We tried pain meds that didn't work. Next came a cortisone shot; again no help. So it's either live with it or get it fixed surgically. I'm choosing the knife—well, actually the laser or whatever they use to do an arthroscopic procedure.
Supposedly it's fairly easy. It only takes fifteen to thirty minutes. The recovery includes a few weeks of physical therapy; much better than the three-quarters of a year I spent there in 2023.
So while you're reading this, I’ll be breaking my only 2024 resolution. And if you're having breakfast, have a Junior Mint for me. After all, who’s going to turn down a Junior Mint? It’s chocolate. It’s peppermint. It’s delicious! Let’s just hope that no one in my operating room is having one.