I’m an early riser, even after retirement; so when the surgeon’s office called me earlier in the week and told me I needed to arrive at the hospital at 6:00 AM for gallbladder surgery, I was relieved. My surgery was the first of the day. I prayed the surgeon would also be a morning person.

My husband dropped me off at the hospital entrance and went off in search of a spot in the parking garage. By the time he made his way to the second floor outpatient surgery center, I was already back in a pre-op cubicle, IV in place, dressed in hospital-issued grip socks, a blue surgical bonnet, and a hospital gown that had seen better days. They allowed my husband to see me for only a few moments in order to give me a good-luck kiss on the forehead and grab my Kindle and cell phone. Everything happened so quickly, I barely had time to read!

The surgeon popped into pre-op before they wheeled me into the operating room.

“We rarely get a chance to use the robot,” he said. He was grinning enthusiastically.

“But there was a cancellation this morning,” he continued, “so I booked it!”

Was he indicating that a robot would be performing my gallbladder surgery? If so, why was he telling me this mere minutes beforehand? A last-minute booking didn’t seem like a good idea. Should I explain that I had read all his reviews and was expecting him to perform the surgery…an actual human doctor? I wasn’t in any condition to advocate for my own healthcare, lying there like I was, and he seemed as happy as a kid on Christmas morning about his opportunity to use the robot. I couldn’t bear to deprive him of this experience.

“Okay,” I said. That was it, “Okay.”

Being a child of the 70s and an avid Saturday morning cartoon fan, I was reminded of The Jetsons…the episode where George goes to the doctor, swallows a robotic pill, and the pill rover reports back to Dr. Radius (from a flatscreen) on the condition of George’s internal organs.

The Jetsons (which first aired in 1962) predicted several modern technologies that actually came to fruition; but unlike George Jetson, I wasn’t predicting the future, I was living it.

I prayed Dr. Radius, er, I mean, Dr. Witt knew what he was doing.

(To be continued…)

(Screenshot from The Jetsons, Hanna-Barbera Productions, Inc.)