But why would you want to put yourself through more pain than necessary? I can understand not wanting to be groggy but why not take advantage of the miracles of modern medicine?
I can think of practical reasons (wanting to get right back to work, etc.). But I suspect that the deeper truth is that I just don't like being sedated, dependent, or restricted, even for a little while.
You have to understand that I left home when I was 17 -- for good reasons -- and have been on my own ever since. Of necessity, I've learned to be very independent, and I don't like anyone messing with that.
That's probably the truth of the issue.
I do, nonetheless, have a pain tolerance that a few doctors have told me is "dangerously" high, meaning that I tend to ignore problems because the pain just doesn't seem all that bad to me.
For example, the surgeon who did my cholecystectomy told me that my gall bladder was one of the most diseased he'd ever removed. He described it as resembling a dirty sweat sock full of marbles, and estimated that I'd been living with the problem for at least 15 years, which seems about right in retrospect.
He couldn't believe that I hadn't seen a doctor about it before then -- especially seeing as how I was a paramedic who should have recognized the symptoms. By the time the last attack happened, significant damage to my pancreas had already occurred (which may have something to do with why I developed diabetes). The doctor couldn't believe I ignored the pain for that long.
But the truth of the matter is that except for the last attack, I never for a moment suspected that I was having gall bladder attacks at all. The pain seemed mild to me, so I would just take an Alka-Seltzer, thinking it was indigestion, and the pain would go away within ten or twenty minutes.
Even after learning that the problem was my gall bladder, I still researched every possible alternative to surgery -- some of which seem downright scary to me, in retrospect. Again, it was the anesthesia and being "laid up" that scared me more than the surgery itself. But the anesthesiologist turned out to be the Mozart of anesthesia. When I came to I was ready to run the mile in four flat. I could have kissed him. In fact, I think I did.
In the end, I guess what it really comes down to is that I'm a stubborn, fiercely independent SOB, who fears any sort of dependency or restriction more than I fear pain. That's most likely the truth of the matter.
Not that I'm saying that's "normal," mind you. I'm just saying that that's what it comes down to.
-Rich