It was getting too hard to even get around. I would go to the gym at Google 3 mornings a week - but some mornings it was all I could do to walk up the stairs after my 45 minute drive and walk into the gym. I was hobbling badly.
So I scheduled the surgery and just went for it. July 19. Check in at 6am. Surgery at 7:30.
My son Kyle was my hero. Picked me up at 5:30am and drove me to UCSF - no turning back. (And Kyle was still there at 11pm as I was drifting in and out of a morphine-induced haze. I had told him that I was worried about that first night in the recovery room so he had resolved to sit there through the night. I felt clear enough by midnight that I asked him to go home - but I'll always appreciate his love and support. ... I had never spent a night in a hospital before. What a wimp.)
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