Things happen when you’re pregnant and give birth.
I promise I could captivate you with a dark tale about Percocet and what can happen when one’s body doesn’t handle it well (no, not drug addiction, people).
But not today. Today is about abdominal hernias!
I have one. So do lots of postpartum women. And it has to be fixed with surgery. Scheduling surgery is obviously a snap when you have four kids, six and under. And I’m counting on my children to just play on their own quietly while I spend two weeks on the couch recovering, watching Jennifer Aniston movies (according to my calculations, she’s made one good movie and 47 lame ones) but I strangely never give up on her.
First mission: Find a surgeon.
I’m all about convenience so I went for a consultation with a surgeon who is about 6 minutes from my house. He walks into the exam room and immediately starts talking in a thick southern accent which I quickly identify as an Atlanta accent (I have no idea how I know this). I then ask him a bit about his background and it turns out he went to Tulane.
Yes. My Tulane.
And he graduated the year before me.
And he was in the same fraternity as my college boyfriend.
Then, because it’s a natural transition, he wants to see my abdomen and c-section scar.
At this point, I really need to clarify two things.
Have I EVER kissed this guy during my 4 years at college? I have not.
Secondly, have any of my friends hooked up with this guy?
I send off some quick texts to my college girlfriends and to the best of their beer haze recollections, they have not.
I guess this guy spent a lot of time in the library.
Even so, most people would probably go find another surgeon. But I like this doctor. He has an impressive resume. He comes highly recommended. And I’m reasonably confident that he knows the joy of sitting on a curbside at 2 a.m. throwing back crawfish during Mardi Gras and then meandering home without shoes, only to find his roommate’s cousin lying on the kitchen floor spooning a half eaten dish of flan.
In other words, he’s perfect.