Yesterday I had surgery on my left knee to reconstruct my ACL. My dad drove me. Arriving at the surgery center, I was immediately stripped of my dignity. That is, my clothes. “You can leave your underwear on,” the nurse said (the same way my last date did), as she handed me a gown to wear. Later I told my friend Bonnie, “Those things are so unflattering.” Her response: “You’re so gay.”

For the last few weeks I’ve been fighting a skin rash, so in addition to a change of clothes and my wallet, I loaded up my “surgery backpack” with various creams. Anyway, before surgery, I told the nurse I needed to use the restroom, and when she pointed me in the right direction, I grabbed my bag so I could take care of business. “DO YOU NEED YOUR BAG?” she said. I guess she thought I was gonna take a swig of whiskey or snort a line of coke in the john. Not bothering to explain myself, I said, “Yep!” and kept walking.

When I got back from the restroom, the nurse shaved my knee and hooked me up to an IV, which was used to pump me full of saline and antibiotics. Then the anesthesiologist came to explain about putting me under and the option of giving me a nerve block, which is sort of like an epidural, to numb pain.

“I want it all,” I said.

The surgery itself went well. When I woke up in recovery I was in a fancy brace, which the doctor said was mainly for my comfort. “Take it off if you like,” he said. “You’re not gonna pull anything loose.” Ugh. My surgeon is real aggressive. Those are his words. I got the day off yesterday, but at-home rehab exercises started today. So far I’ve done them once (out of three times). And whereas they weren’t fun, they weren’t as painful or as difficult as I thought they’d be.

That being said, I am on drugs, and I can tell when they start to wear off. The nerve block definitely has. But whatever I’m taking keeps me groggy and–when I’m standing–nauseated. I’m sure the nauseated part has something to do with the anesthesia and pain, the consequence of my knee having been cut into like the piece of chicken I just ate for dinner.

Mostly, I’m hanging out in a chair or resting in bed. Changing positions, going to the bathroom, and walking on crutches is awkward. My neck is sore. My sister, brother-in-law, and their kids are sick with cold/stomach stuff, so that terrifies me, being surrounded by germs. I’m trying to keep a positive attitude about it. Just because they’re sick doesn’t mean I have to be. But it’s not like the universe hasn’t kicked me when I’ve been down before.

We’ll see what happens.

Okay, I’m over this. The knee injury, of course, but especially the writing. Between the pain and the drugs, it’s difficult to concentrate. I keep thinking I’ll spend the day reading it watching TV, but I can’t focus and end up nodding off. So I’m shutting this down and going to grunt through my exercises again.

You can do this, Marcus. You can do this.