So I’m 1 week post surgery. It took me this long to be cognizant enough to be secure that I won’t fall asleep mid sentence while writing this. The narcotics, while wonderful, have turned me into a narcoleptic. I would fall asleep in the middle of texting someone and wake up three hours later still holding my phone with no idea why.
But…let’s start at the beginning. This is my first post-surgical photo:
Super attractive, no? It was supposed to be a day surgery (meaning I would go home the same day) but alas they couldn’t do a nerve block (because they disturbingly told me later that they didn’t have a anesthesiologist on duty who had been trained in the procedure!!!) so when I woke up in the recovery room my pain level skyrocketed to a 40 on a scale of 1-10. It was explained to me that foot surgery is more painful than hip surgery (REALLY!?!?! Cause that was helpful at that moment) and as I proceeded to lie there with tears streaming down my face (and the nurse begging me to stop crying because people would think she was “torturing me”) they decided to hook me up to a morphine drip and then admitted me.
The best gift I received that first night was being hooked up to a PCA (Patient Controlled Anesthetic) which meant I could push a button every 10 minutes if I wanted to in order to self-medicate myself with dilaudid (aka – morphine). Mind you, this was regulated so that I couldn’t put myself into a coma but even so, the psychological benefit of feeling in control of my pain meds brought me a measure of relief.
The nice young resident came the next day to tell me he was taking the machine away and I almost thwapped him in the head with the bed pan (more on that in a minute). But alas…they switched me to pills and got me out of bed and into a chair in order to be able for me to progress home.
So my roommate was an older woman (80’s) who screamed the first night but turned out to be a real pip who loves “Scandal” and then proceeded to talk to me about how much sex there is on TV nowadays. heh.
I have been in the hospital before and these folks were very nice and the hospital was clean, etc. I got sprung after 2.5 days.
I think the most difficult part of this entire experience has been coming to terms with how much I CAN’T do. I have fallen twice (once using the walker – garbage pail won; the second was just today, crutch slipped and I fell (HARD) on my hip), have to wear a back pack to carry stuff from room to room, and in general just going from the living room couch to my bed wipes me out. I will however, have great left leg muscles as well as nicely shaped upper arms once this is all said and done. I can’t use my super swanky knee scooter until I get my stitches out and a full cast on (June 2nd).
I was most humbled by the whole bedpan experience the first day and a half in the hospital. I mean really – you don’t have a choice if you’re not allowed to get out of bed for a day and a half. It sucks. And you have to be comfortable with an array of folks well…seeing your “business.” Lordy. I got up and out of that bed as fast as possible and dragged myself ( I had the bed next to the window but far from the bathroom) there as soon as they gave me the walker.
My cats have been enjoying me being here and now just see me as another piece of furniture:
I have been able to work from home and this is generally what my time on the couch looks like:
Got a care package from one of my former bosses from State DOT. I have not worked with him for five years yet he and his wife kindly sent me something to cheer me up. They included a very sweet note, a great book and this toy (see below). It starts off as a square, turns into a wooden robot, and allegedly turns back into a square. I have failed miserably at getting it back to square. May murder it soon.
Yours from the Couch,