JanDunlap.com

My husband is having knee surgery this week, so his doctor sent him a packet with all the pre-operation instructions he’s supposed to follow to make sure the procedure goes smoothly. Since this will be the fourth surgery he’s had on that particular knee in the last twenty years, we both have a pretty good idea of what the day of surgery will entail. As expected, the packet from the doctor included the usual medical information and hospital admission forms, a list of the prescription drugs my husband currently takes, and reminders about hospital policies.

There was also another sheet in the packet which my husband never received prior to his other surgeries.

“Look at this,” he said, holding the piece of paper out for me and my daughter to read. “It’s a list of the affirmations I’m supposed to be saying to get ready for surgery.”

“What a good idea,” I responded. “They want you to be mentally prepared and able to contribute to your own recovery with a positive attitude. Affirmations are a great way to do that.”

“I don’t believe in affirmations,” he reminded me. “Besides, these aren’t right,” he said, pointing at the list. “It says I should tell myself, ‘I will wake up from anesthesia and feel good.’”

He shook his head. “I’ve had this surgery before. I don’t feel good when I wake up. I wake up and want to throw up all over the nursing station.”

My daughter giggled and I threw her a stern look. “Don’t encourage him,” I reprimanded her. I turned my attention back to my husband.

“That’s why they want you to use affirmations,” I pointed out. “The idea is to retrain your thought pattern at a subconscious level, which will automatically change your response at the physical level. They’ve done scientific studies on this. It works.”

“And here’s another one that’s wrong,” he said, ignoring my reasoning. “’I will wake up and feel only a small measure of mild pain.’ No way. I will wake up and hurt like hell. I’m going to write my own affirmations to use.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, honey. ‘I am going to wake up and be in excruciating pain’ just doesn’t sound very helpful,” I noted.

“Okay, how about this – ‘I will wake up and ring constantly for the nurse for two hours until they give me enough painkillers so I don’t feel a thing’?”

I considered the scenario. If my husband rang for the nurses nonstop for two hours, I had no doubt they would gladly give him enough painkillers to make him unconscious. In fact, at that point, they’d probably be happy to knock him out with or without drugs.

“Maybe that’s not such a good one to try, either.” I decided a different approach was called for. “You know, I never believed in affirmations myself till I started using them a year ago to handle some of my anxiety problems. I think I worry a lot less now.”

My daughter snorted.

“What? You don’t think I worry less? I think I worry less. I don’t spend nearly as much time worrying as I used to. You think I do?”

“Mom,” my daughter observed, “you’re worrying. Besides, I’m with Dad. Affirmations never work.”

I rolled my eyes in frustration. “Well, of course they don’t, if you keep saying ‘affirmations never work.’ You’re basically telling your brain they don’t work, so your brain sends that message right back to you. It’s like a closed loop of information.”

“They don’t work,” she said again. “I have proof.”

“What proof?”

“Zach Carter’s car has not broken down in front of our house, and he hasn’t come to the door for help.”

“That’s your affirmation?”

“Who’s Zach Carter?” my husband asked.

“He’s a young country music star,” I informed my husband. “Our daughter has had a thing for him for the last year.” I turned back to my fifteen-year-old. “So is Zach Carter supposed to come to the door because his car broke down and then fall madly in love with you? That’s your affirmation?” I asked her again.

“Well…yes.”

“But you can’t control other people’s behavior with your affirmations!” I explained. “That’s not the way it works. You can only change your own responses, not other people’s. The idea is to train your brain to send your body the positive messages that will allow you to realize your full potential. Not to make cute country music stars show up on your doorstep.”

My daughter shrugged her shoulders. “That would be a very positive message as far as I’m concerned.”

“Does he have any hit singles?” my husband asked her.

“Not yet,” she told him. “He and his brother still haven’t released their first CD. I’ve been waiting for it to show up in the stores for a year now. I don’t know what their problem is.”

“Maybe he should try some affirmations,” my husband suggested. “Someone in this room thinks they work.”

“Very funny,” I said, deciding that the ‘teachable’ moment about affirmations had slipped right out the front door. Been hounded out, more like it. I switched the subject back to my husband’s impending knee work. “So, what else is in that packet your surgeon sent you?”

For the first time since we’d started the conversation, he seemed genuinely excited.

“One of those charts with the smiley faces that you use to rate your level of pain,” he said. “You know – a big smile for no pain, a straight line mouth for moderate pain, a grimace for uncomfortable pain, and a howling mouth with hair sticking straight up for intense pain. I’m going to put it up in my office at work and use it when I give the people in my department performance appraisals. ‘So, how’s your pain level today in quality assurance? Only an eight? We can do better than that.’”

“You are so sick,” my daughter laughed.

“No, I’m not. I’m just having knee surgery,” he corrected her. “It’s going to hurt so good. Hey! That could be my affirmation.”

Wonderful. My husband is going to teach himself to be a masochist.

Memo to me: It’s time for a new affirmation. ‘I will keep my mouth shut’ sounds just about perfect.

Tags: trust me