And Steve's Surgery Went....

Right now i’m writing this in the waiting room while Steve gets his pain interrupter. No, no wi-fi here, but I’ll copy-paste it into the blog later. I tried reading “Home Fires” instead, bought after I discovered it was available. Loved PBS’s 2 seasons, jumped at the chance to get the book. Unfortunately, it’s hard to read with FAUX “News” in the background. I kept going from learning the history of the women in WWII to being unable to block the spew behind me. At least I have a chair with my back to it, but I needed something more than a book to block , say, the conspiracy theory that (“Crooked”) Hillary is running again, or denial of any possible reason for impeachment ‘cause it’s all false and none of the witnesses for Congress have proved that, to lies, lies, more lies…. AAARRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!  Pity on my blood pressure, guys? At least blogging allows me to block out other info while I’m concentrating on how to phrase or organize my next thoughts. It’s harder to block it while sorting the meaning out of somebody else’s writing.

But hey, interesting book. Nonfiction, though, so don’t expect the characters you’ve watched for two seasons to jump from the TV to the page.

 And status update, we arrived before 1 PM, and there’s only two hours of waiting left to go.  OK, they’re running late, so…. OK, now he’s another hour later….. Oh, now it’s two hours later…. Perhaps 3…. So, I just called Rich to let him know not to be shocked of we don’t get back until after 8. Maybe much later. The lady in front of him in the que had a bunch of splintered hand bones, compound fracture, and a much longer time than expected to put the puzzle back together to heal. I know that because the doctors come out into the waiting room to give whoever is waiting the details after surgery. Who needs HIPA rules when everybody can clearly hear what’s happened? I also know that a piece of wire extends out of her hand, holding one piece that didn’t exactly fit so it stays adjacent the hand bones. I guess there’s some expectation it’ll snuggle in or something and make itself a spot. In two weeks the patient will get her brace replaced with a cast, but everything’s got to settle down first. I’m not positive when the wire will go away. Maybe they don’t know either.

*    *    *    *

Continuing next morning:


I finally got called back to see him while he was coming out of the anesthesia. We were the last two non-staff people in the building. It was really rough this time. He was extremely nauseous, as much as you can be without actually having to use the rubber-sock-on-a-ring they let you hold so the staff working around you don’t have to stop working around you. His eyes were puffed closed from lying on his stomach for two hours, though half an hour later they were normal. He was also chilled and shivering badly, despite the addition of several heated “blankets,” as those well-used flannel sheets are misnamed.

He was also higher than a kite, but not in a good way. He kept repeating the same few phrases so many times that I finally decided the remnants of the anesthesia were screwing with his short term memory. He doesn't remember much besides the nausea when asked, and that’s a good thing. His back was in pain, since the procedure is to let the implants heal in their respective places before they turn on the current to find the proper level for disrupting the pain signals. That happens next week in the Doc’s office. So now he gets both the pain he had before plus the post-surgical pain. They couldn’t give him a pill for it, obviously, but I requested that they give him a shot of whatever they could that wouldn’t interfere with him coming up from the anesthesia. They not only did that but decided since he was still, after about 20 minutes, complaining of nausea, they could pop something to combat that into his IV portal well. Eventually it worked.

Steve being Steve, he kept apologizing for feeling so sick, each time adding that he’d never reacted to anesthesia that way. Meanwhile, I was both rubbing his leg to let him know I was there, and trying to memorize all the post-op at-home requirements. Only clear liquids tonight. Perhaps a soda cracker. No doing anything that would cause twisting in the back. (Hey, you try it!) No showers, no bending over, no heavy lifting, ice packs in an on/off pattern with 15 minutes rotations, no activating the thing in the box which is the remote control for pain levels yet, but bring it with to the doctor’s appointment next week - call their office. The sober one in the family got to sign that the instructions were heard and understood.

He was shivering so hard by this time that I questioned whether it would be better for me to go out to the car  and get the heater going. Yes, folks, while still needing AC in the day, nights cool down enough now that heat is welcomed, and especially for him right now. This wasn't my Mr. Furnace. Agreeing, they escorted me to the proper door and pointed where to pull the car up, reminding me I should leave enough room from the curb for the wheelchair they’d be rolling him out in. I got to carry all my stuff and all his, incidentally somewhat over my weight restrictions at the  moment, but who else was there?

Five minutes later there he was, unrecognizable from his earlier self. No goofiness, shivering, or nausea, he was dressed and holding a normal conversation with the woman who wheeled him out, and able to respond properly to how she guided him into the car without disturbing his back.

We arrived home somewhere after 8, and Rich escorted him in and got him settled while I headed off to the local store for another IcyHot patch so one could chill again as the other was in use. I also picked up a fast food supper on the way, long past eating time and no energy to both wait and prepare something. I didn’t want to eat it in front of Steve but he was sound asleep in his lift chair, the spot we agreed was best for keeping him from twisting during sleep or just the getting in and out if he were in bed.

    *    *    *

That was yesterday. Too tired to finish and post, so here it is now. He’s much better, improving throughout the day, able now to walk steadily without worry of falling, though pain levels are back where they were. He goes in Monday to get the pain interrupter turned on. He’s hoping to be able to pop on his scooter that evening and boogie down to his cards club, a first since nearly a year now.  Fingers crossed.