Normally you can only have one relative at a time in the pre-op room, but my Aunt Terry was able to get both my Mom and Dad in. I love my parents, but I guarantee I was the only 41-year-old being serenaded with "Hush Little Baby, Don't Say a Word" while waiting for a mastectomy. Facepalm.

I completely don't remember putting on the hairnet, so the anesthesia must have been kicking in. I do remember being wheeled into the operating room. As they slid me onto the operating table, my anesthesiologist said we heard you like listening to music, do you prefer Spotify or Pandora? Pandora! What station? Pop Punk Radio! I recognized the song that started playing and then was out cold. I can't recall which song it was, but I so wish it could have been "I Wanna Be Sedated". The Ramones classic should be a hospital standard.

Post-surgery, my Dad (the selfie king) was standing by to capture the moment. I was happy to oblige. He didn't see the first pose until later.

PSA: Don't watch "Guardians of the Galaxy" after a mastectomy; comedy hurts, laughter is not the best medicine.

2/4/16