Yesterday I had surgery on my nose. I have bad allergies, plus a narrow nose, so I don't sleep very well. The surgery was minor, not much different than a cosmetic rhinoplasty, and they just widened it a bit. I'd been putting it off until after my boards, so I took a few days off work to have it done. I didn't want my wife to get involved because I'm trying to handle my own shit and it's not a major surgery. I just need some R&R for the next few days. I'm also trying not to complain or whine in front of her, because that's not an alpha move.

I was hoping my wife would go to work as usual, since she doesn't get much time off. I arranged to get to the hospital by myself and have my dad pick me up and take me home. I spend 80% of my waking hours at this hospital, so I knew I'd be treated well. The surgeon and I are buddies, I picked the anesthesiologist, and the nurses love me (much to my wife's chagrin). My biggest fear was waking up with a dick on my forehead.

My wife really wanted to be there so she rearranged her clinic schedule. This was bad because (1) her nurturing instincts kick in and she treats me like an infant and (2) I knew I would have absolutely no frame coming out of anesthesia. But I'm not going to stop her because she really wanted to be there for me and she cares about me.

From the moment we get to the hospital, she's an anxious wreck. She's worried I'm going to die, that complications will happen, that I'll get an infection. She's grilling the surgeon. Telling him that she'll have his balls if he screws up (only half-joking). She turns into this unholy combination of ball-busting MD and overbearing mother. I just keep telling her "I'll be fine, I've got this babe." And "Let's have a quickie before the nurses come back. There's nothing under this gown" (She responded positively, but there wasn't enough time)

I go to surgery. Everything was fine. Unfortunately she was there when I went to the recovery room. And I was acting like the most disinhibited guy from all those youtube videos. Seriously, I started dancing the macarena in my hospital bed. She takes me home and she's starting to get sick of my antics. Starts giving me shit about being a dick. "Here I am, just trying to take care of you, and you won't act serious".

Now, I'm still high as a kite. But somewhere deep down my MRP training kicks in and I realize this is a shit test. And I also realize that I cannot use AA or AM in my current state. This is a time for STFU. So I kiss her on the forehead and tell her thanks. I went downstairs and watched TV until the anesthesia wore off. Then I spent the evening holding it together. She ended up calming down and was pleasant the rest of the evening. I helped make dinner, got my daughter ready for bed, and did a few light chores. Again, I'm not going to let a minor surgery be a reason to slip back into blue pill behavior and give her a reason to baby me.

TLDR: I had surgery. Used STFU against shit test. Didn't make a bad situation worse. Almost got a hand job before surgery.