Sort of. I could go back to sleep and sleep another couple of hours but I thought I'd update first.
The surgery went well. I only had the spinal block so I was awake the whole time and was glad I did it that way. Watching on the monitor was very cool. The inside of your knee isn't nearly as gross as the inside of your lungs. Who knew? Orthopedic surgeons, apparently.
Turns out there was no meniscal tear, what was causing the pain and looking like meniscal tear on the MRI was about a dozen cartilage chips floating around inside the joint where they shouldn't have been, getting crunched with every step I took. They wre big too. The first two that came floating out even the doc and some of the techs said "Wow!" You know that means they were either big or unexpected when the crew reacts. You know what watching that reminded me of? Watching footage from the Titanic. You know hos it's sort of murky out to the edges and there's all that little floaty stuff in the water and then all of a sudden something appears that you recognize? That's it. That's watching this knee scope. I kept waiting for the crew to yell out "To the left! It's Rose's diamond!" Oh well. Didn't happen. Guess the insurance will have to pay the bill.
There was also some damage to one part of my femur form the cartilage scraping but he didn't elaborate, just showed me the dent. I'll have to ask about it when I go for the return appt Tuesday. And guess what? I officially have level 2 arthritis in on my femur. Oh f***ing joy. He scraped a bunch of it off and said we'll discuss at the next appt how to keep it under control. It was cool to watch him scrape it off. It looked like an upside down shag carpet (anybody remember those?) being trimmed by a metal toothbrush.
Along the small world lines, the recovery nurse was not only a former RT, she's from Marshfield and married to a guy a graduated the year before me. So we played the name game waiting for my legs to wake up. That made the time pass quickly. It was fast too. The anesthesiologist had told me it would take longer for the spinal to wear off than the general but I was out of recovery inside 45 minutes and peed, dressed, and ready to go hom inside an hour once I got back to the room.
Had three weird incidents. The first one was in recovery. I didn't realize my legs wouldn't wake up at the same time. By the time I left recovery I could move my right leg up, down, all around, and tuck it behind my ear, while I still could only wiggle my left leg (the operated one) toes but couldn't lift the leg off the bed at all. That was very strange. I can't imagine what it would be to wake up paralysed. It was very strange to feel like I was moving but watch and see that nothing happened or the opposite. In the OR, I watched them lift my leg off the surgical table but I swear I felt like both legs were still firmly on the table. That almost freaked me out. They could have grabbed my legs and gone down the hall to play kickball with them for all I knew.
The third thing was my cooter. Now, really. Did you expect to read an entry on this blog that doesn't involve somebody's cooter. Well, here's the thing just in case you haven't already had this surgery and will some day. Your cooter is the last thing to wake up so by the time your legs and belly wake up, you know you need to pee. Now. And no nurse can run fast enough to please you. It's like you're sitting there all nothing's happening one second and the next second you know you're gong to wet the bed if someone doesn't help you to the potty ten seconds ago. BUT, when they help you in there and you do...and you...uhhh... go to "dry" yourself. You can't feel it. Your hand knows it's happening but your...well you get the idea. Very strange.
And the last strange thing was that on the way back from the bathroom to the bed, the floor tile under my left foot melted and I was stuck in the floor up to my knee. Okay, when I looked down I saw that my left foot had turned out at the ankle and my left knee was following it down and that the floor was mysteriously intact but I would have sworn for about two or three seconds there that the floor was melting.
That's about all I remember until yesterday. I do remember stuff, just not in good details. I'm going to blame the meds for that. I slept a lot Wed and Thurs.
Yesterday, I got to take my first bath. That was a production. I had to fill the tub just a little ways up and get into it without my left leg. I much prefer to put my whole lower body in the tub but that was against the "rules". Normally, I don't give a rat's butt about the rules but I thought not getting bacteria into these incision wounds might be a good one to follow. This time. Gene helped me wash and washed my hair. Not quite as romantic as the Robert Redford/Meryl Streep hair washing scene in Out of Africa, but the fact that he helped at all when it must have been killing his back meant the world to me. He's actually been wonderful through the whole thing, jumping up to take care of me, getting me anything I want in my moments of consciousness.
Yesterday, following the bath, I was resting. I know. That sounds so weird but it's amazing how the simple things we take for granted really wear you out. There was a ring at the door and it was Ashley from work. She brought WONDERFUL cookies in the shape of turtles from her and Kara and others from work.
Wasn't that sweet? Ashley, what a friend. She saw me almost naked, helped Gene changed the wrap on my bad leg, and saw my house at its very worse. And she didn't even look disgusted! I was so impressed with that girl!
Look closely at the middle turtle. Notice anything? Gene took the bouquet from the bedroom where we were, into the kitchen. When I went to photograph it later I noticed that turtle was missing part of its head. I hadn't seen that when Ashley first brought them in. I asked Gene if he'd already taken a bite (not that I cared) and he responded like a little kid, fast. "It fell off...........in my hand............when I was playing with it......so I had to eat it." Well, of course! I understand completely. Don't you love people who can still find their inner little kid?
Also last night, had this poem attached to an e-card for my entertainment from my writer friend, Jenn. It did make me laugh.
<<
Get better quick.
I hate it when you're sick.
Crutches are not what they mean
when they tell you to
get on the stick.
Just ask Gene.
(And stop thinking obscene.)
>>
Well, I'm getting sleepy. Pardon me while I be a slug and go take a nap. This is the life: eat, drug up, sleep...
Sort of. I could go back to sleep and sleep another couple of hours but I thought I'd update first.
The surgery went well. I only had the spinal block so I was awake the whole time and was glad I did it that way. Watching on the monitor was very cool. The inside of your knee isn't nearly as gross as the inside of your lungs. Who knew? Orthopedic surgeons, apparently.
Turns out there was no meniscal tear, what was causing the pain and looking like meniscal tear on the MRI was about a dozen cartilage chips floating around inside the joint where they shouldn't have been, getting crunched with every step I took. They wre big too. The first two that came floating out even the doc and some of the techs said "Wow!" You know that means they were either big or unexpected when the crew reacts. You know what watching that reminded me of? Watching footage from the Titanic. You know hos it's sort of murky out to the edges and there's all that little floaty stuff in the water and then all of a sudden something appears that you recognize? That's it. That's watching this knee scope. I kept waiting for the crew to yell out "To the left! It's Rose's diamond!" Oh well. Didn't happen. Guess the insurance will have to pay the bill.
There was also some damage to one part of my femur form the cartilage scraping but he didn't elaborate, just showed me the dent. I'll have to ask about it when I go for the return appt Tuesday. And guess what? I officially have level 2 arthritis in on my femur. Oh f***ing joy. He scraped a bunch of it off and said we'll discuss at the next appt how to keep it under control. It was cool to watch him scrape it off. It looked like an upside down shag carpet (anybody remember those?) being trimmed by a metal toothbrush.
Along the small world lines, the recovery nurse was not only a former RT, she's from Marshfield and married to a guy a graduated the year before me. So we played the name game waiting for my legs to wake up. That made the time pass quickly. It was fast too. The anesthesiologist had told me it would take longer for the spinal to wear off than the general but I was out of recovery inside 45 minutes and peed, dressed, and ready to go hom inside an hour once I got back to the room.
Had three weird incidents. The first one was in recovery. I didn't realize my legs wouldn't wake up at the same time. By the time I left recovery I could move my right leg up, down, all around, and tuck it behind my ear, while I still could only wiggle my left leg (the operated one) toes but couldn't lift the leg off the bed at all. That was very strange. I can't imagine what it would be to wake up paralysed. It was very strange to feel like I was moving but watch and see that nothing happened or the opposite. In the OR, I watched them lift my leg off the surgical table but I swear I felt like both legs were still firmly on the table. That almost freaked me out. They could have grabbed my legs and gone down the hall to play kickball with them for all I knew.
The third thing was my cooter. Now, really. Did you expect to read an entry on this blog that doesn't involve somebody's cooter. Well, here's the thing just in case you haven't already had this surgery and will some day. Your cooter is the last thing to wake up so by the time your legs and belly wake up, you know you need to pee. Now. And no nurse can run fast enough to please you. It's like you're sitting there all nothing's happening one second and the next second you know you're gong to wet the bed if someone doesn't help you to the potty ten seconds ago. BUT, when they help you in there and you do...and you...uhhh... go to "dry" yourself. You can't feel it. Your hand knows it's happening but your...well you get the idea. Very strange.
And the last strange thing was that on the way back from the bathroom to the bed, the floor tile under my left foot melted and I was stuck in the floor up to my knee. Okay, when I looked down I saw that my left foot had turned out at the ankle and my left knee was following it down and that the floor was mysteriously intact but I would have sworn for about two or three seconds there that the floor was melting.
That's about all I remember until yesterday. I do remember stuff, just not in good details. I'm going to blame the meds for that. I slept a lot Wed and Thurs.
Yesterday, I got to take my first bath. That was a production. I had to fill the tub just a little ways up and get into it without my left leg. I much prefer to put my whole lower body in the tub but that was against the "rules". Normally, I don't give a rat's butt about the rules but I thought not getting bacteria into these incision wounds might be a good one to follow. This time. Gene helped me wash and washed my hair. Not quite as romantic as the Robert Redford/Meryl Streep hair washing scene in Out of Africa, but the fact that he helped at all when it must have been killing his back meant the world to me. He's actually been wonderful through the whole thing, jumping up to take care of me, getting me anything I want in my moments of consciousness.
Yesterday, following the bath, I was resting. I know. That sounds so weird but it's amazing how the simple things we take for granted really wear you out. There was a ring at the door and it was Ashley from work. She brought WONDERFUL cookies in the shape of turtles from her and Kara and others from work.
Wasn't that sweet? Ashley, what a friend. She saw me almost naked, helped Gene changed the wrap on my bad leg, and saw my house at its very worse. And she didn't even look disgusted! I was so impressed with that girl!
Look closely at the middle turtle. Notice anything? Gene took the bouquet from the bedroom where we were, into the kitchen. When I went to photograph it later I noticed that turtle was missing part of its head. I hadn't seen that when Ashley first brought them in. I asked Gene if he'd already taken a bite (not that I cared) and he responded like a little kid, fast. "It fell off...........in my hand............when I was playing with it......so I had to eat it." Well, of course! I understand completely. Don't you love people who can still find their inner little kid?
Also last night, had this poem attached to an e-card for my entertainment from my writer friend, Jenn. It did make me laugh.
<<