As tired as I thought I was, I was also a bit angry about the lack of communication going around, and about what was going to happen under anesthesia. (Literally, every professional I talked to: Dr., Anesthesiologist, Nurse, and Secretary told me something different.) I had no real clue what to expect, and it made me toss and turn somewhat that night. I fell asleep, but far too late to be of much use, and the alarm woke me at 5:15Am. We needed to leave at 5:30AM, but I figured there was no point in me getting up early since I couldn’t have anything to eat or drink, and I had already laid out my clothes, etc. I was ready far faster than even I thought I’d be, and I played Neopets for a while hoping Master would forget to leave on time. Of course he didn’t. But.. This was just one of those times I didn’t want to help him remember when we had to go. Not that he needed help either. 5:30AM sharp and we were out the door.
I will say that at this point, I wasn’t nervous – I was angry. Very, very angry. I was upset that the anesthesiologist we talked to the night before didn’t know much about one of my conditions, and there was absolutely no time to switch anesthesiologists because I was the first surgery in the morning and we could not afford to cancel again because if we did, I would be all alone during my recovery instead of having Master to help. Master was very kind, and he let me just rant and talk about how upset I was on the way there. Not only that – but he happily joined in with me. He was upset too. Lack of communication will never endear me to any doctor, no matter how minor the procedure, exam, or surgery. ::grumble::
Once we showed up they had me fill out a couple forms (I filled most out online, so this really was just two or three signatures, thankfully). They took me back before I knew it, and had me change into all manner of “sexy” surgery gear. I will say that I was very impressed with the nurse I had initially (who seems to only get you ready, because I had another nurse in the surgery room, and another one post op), because even though I had nothing to eat or drink for twelve hours, she managed to start an IV on her first poke. She did have a hard time finding a vein, but she managed to get it, and I was soo thankful that was over with. She went and got Master. (They wouldn’t let him go back with me until after my IV went in.)
And, I asked Master if he’d take this picture of me and Cthulu so that S could see it. She had wanted me to bring Cthulu along with me on surgery day, so I brought Cthulu and ZeeBee. I had saved ZeeBee for when I was waking up though, because his snuggliness has yet to be matched.
Honestly, after Master came back to see me, the Dr and the anesthesiologist showed up, and I got to talk to them both. It was a quick talk, completely different than the night before, and before I knew it, the anesthesiologist was putting “sleepy juice” in my IV. Not without a quick, somewhat angry quip from me, because (again) they were trying to do something without my knowing. Nuh-uh. After so many doctors fucking up what they inject me with, no one gets near my IV without telling me exactly what is going into it.
I felt the effects from the sleepy juice very quickly. It was not unpleasant, I just felt very relaxed. They rolled me into the operating room, and told me to scoot over to the operating table. I kind of laughed because my muscles weren’t working so well because of the sleepy juice. My arms felt weak under me, and it took several tries to get me over onto the table. I laid down, and the anesthesiologist put an oxygen tube just in my nose. The last thing I remember was him saying:
“I apologize, I know that hurts you.”
And I just said “No, it doesn’t hurt. I’m fine.”
And the next thing I knew, I woke up in recovery! This was the really funny part, for me anyway. I woke up, and I wasn’t in any pain (I expected to be in loads of pain). My foot was completely numb, and I was kind of shocked that I didn’t remember anything after the above convo. (Well of course I didn’t, I was “sleeping”!)
I was all “Where am I? What happened?”
And the nurse, (who I saw doing paperwork and staring at all the machines I was hooked up to) replied that my foot was all done, and I could go back to sleep. I could not go back to sleep. I mean, well, yes – I am sure I could have gone back to sleep if I wanted to, but I was so excited, you wouldn’t believe it!
“My foot is done?!”
“Yes! You were very good!”
“Oh gawd. I didn’t whine or anything did I?”
“You were great! You slept through the whole thing!”
“Oh my gosh. I’ve just had so many bad medical experiences and I’m just so happy right now. Thank you so much for fixing my foot! I can’t believe it doesn’t hurt! I am just so ready to jog again, and so happy this all worked out thankyouverymuchyouaremyfavoritestperson.”
And, I couldn’t stop talking. The best part was that, if I was going to ramble, at least I kept thanking everyone instead of being an awful mean person (which I am sure happens to some people). I don’t remember doing it, but Master said I kept telling the nurse how plush my stuffed zebra was. >.< They gave me some juice, Master helped me to get dressed, and before I knew it, the nurse was buckling me into the car. (I was totally off my nut.)
Actually, the nurse had convinced Master that it was a good idea to bring me out for breakfast. I remember at one point she was asking me what I wanted to eat. I don’t remember what I replied (the anesthesia stuff makes you all forgetful for up to one day), but I guess Master thought it was a good idea too, because he took me out to Le Peep.
Apparently, the doctor said I wouldn’t need crutches or anything, but (something he hadn’t warned me about up until the morning of surgery) he told me to stay off my foot as much as possible for three whole days. After that, I could walk to tolerance. Pbbbt. Good thing Master took the week off! At any rate, even though I technically didn’t need crutches, we took one with us into the restaurant while I held onto Master with my other hand. I was really floppy still, and with my foot being totally numb it was difficult to move around.
Master ordered me tea and a waffle with strawberries on the side. I was feeling physically fine up until then, albeit a bit floppy. Of course, as I began to eat my waffle and I slowly began to feel more and more sick. On the way home I got really sick, and I wound up eating mashed potatoes and saltines for the rest of the day. Oh, nurses. Got to love them. No one wanted to warn us that the anti-nausea stuff they gave us would likely run out soon? Still, I digress. We’re not mad at anyone, after all, it might have happened even if we went home and I ate saltines.
I don’t remember a lot of the rest of the day, but I do remember Master putting various and sundry pills in my paws to take, and I remember eating mashed potatoes and playing Thrillville. I was too out of it for anything complicated like Skyrim.
Master took this pic at some point, I’m not sure entirely when. You can see my ever-so-stylish anti-embolism sock they made me wear on my good leg, to prevent blood clots, they said. Serenade was very good and snuggly. Maybe she knew I was bonkers.
After I woke up quite a bit, Master told me that the surgery itself went much better than we’d hoped, and it is a super good thing I had it to begin with! For one, the reason why my foot had been giving me so much grief and was swelling up constantly, is that the bone healed at an angle, so there was a jagged v-shaped piece of bone sticking into me and causing lots of scar tissue. Apparently, the doctor was surprised by all the scar tissue that had built up, and, I was told that was the reason for the stiffness. Right now I’ve been given a special post-op shoe, and I have to wear it until I get the stitches out, to prevent the toe from bending and making even more scar tissue.
It’s been a couple days since surgery, and I really am pleased. I never really was in a lot of pain or anything, and I have been able to walk reasonably well. (The shoe is on a slight platform, so it’s a little difficult to keep balance, but I’m managing. Luckily, the part of the bone that the tendon was attached to was secured firmly to my toe, so the surgery was a lot simpler than it could have been, even if it went the way the doctor thought it might go. This should mean a much faster recovery time for me. I’m really, really pleased. It’s been nearly seven months, and I’m just sick to death of this injury. I cannot wait to be back to all the shit I love doing.
Mew mew mew!