Just moved from Post-Op Recovery Ward to a private room (I don't know how I rated a 
private room) in Medical Center North (Round Tower) at Vanderbilt University 
Medical Center - Tuesday, September 27, 2005, 6:00 PM.  It was a long trip on a gurney 
from post-op in the main hospital building to Medical Center North, rolling through 
endless, empty, echoing underground tunnels.  Everything was very surreal, with the 
general anesthesia still wearing off.  I experienced considerable nausea as an after-effect 
of the anesthesia, and the cold cloth over my forehead and eyes helps with nausea.  
I had never experienced that treatment before, and it was surprisingly effective. 

The night after surgery is a blur, but I do remember a number of things.  My hospital
bed broke - it would no longer adjust up and down, so they brought in a newer one
and transferred me over.  These new hospital beds have an automatic air adjust, so they
are constantly adjusting when you move around.  But on the second bed they brought in,
the adjustment apparatus would periodically start up and shut off for no reason when I 
was laying perfectly still, and it was quite loud, vibrating through the bed frame.  Also, 
they have one of those pneumatic tube systems throughout the Vanderbilt Medical Center
complex for sending medical records around, and the receiving station was just outside
my room.  Every time a canister came in, I could hear it rattling along the tubes, until
it finally arrived with a loud "KERTHUNK!"  I had to wear earplugs, or I wouldn't have 
slept at all.  Also, it was very strange to wake up in the middle of the night with the 
circulation stimulator constricting my left leg like a large snake.  It was not an unpleasant 
sensation, just a surprise.  Also, I had a morphine pump, and I must admit that I pushed 
that button frequently during that first night.  So the whole night was pretty surreal.  
I woke up about 4:00 AM, not in pain, but unable to get back to sleep, so I turned on the 
TV, and the second half of Martin Scorsese's new documentary film on Bob Dylan was on. 
I watched it for several hours, and somehow, it seemed appropriate 
to my state of mind at the time.

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