This has been quite an "adventure". I will be as detailed as I can for now as I've just popped another pain pill before I start to hurt like hell again. Last night was rough.
In chronological order:
I set my alarm for 4.30 am on Monday as I was told to report to the hospital at 5.45 am. This turned out to be completely needless as I went to sleep around 8 pm on Sunday, woke up about 12.30 am and could not for the life of me get back to sleep. I've never been a good sleeper in the best scenario, so this was really no surprise to me. The worst part of no sleep was the fact it was making my fibromyalgia flare-up worse. Lack of sleep and stress are two of my three big triggers.
After I took a shower and put my pj's on (yes I wore pj's) we took a taxi to HSS around 5.15 am and were the first people to arrive in the ambulatory surgical waiting area. I filled out some forms and then waited for a nurse to call me to the back area. It was freezing cold in the waiting area so I couldn't sit still. Around 6.15 am I still hadn't been called so I went to the bathroom. Of course that was when the nurse came out to get me. I happen to be someone who wakes up every night to go to the loo. It doesn't seem to matter how much I drink or what I drink, but I invariably wake up around 4 am every night. This was no different that night other than I was awake already, so when I went to the bathroom I really didn't have much left over if you know what I mean. My mother came to get me and I went to follow the nurses to the back area. It was cold in there too, though not as bad. The rule is that they need you to pee to take a pregnancy test. I know there was no way I was unless it was immaculate conception, but the nurse insisted. I explained to her the situation and said that she would hook my IV up early as that would help.
Then the nurse asked me tons of questions, all of which I had already filled out on various forms. Redundancy was the word of the day it seems as this went on with every new person I met. My nurse was very nice but I think my small veins intimidated her. After her having one go on my right hand for the IV, she decided to get the "pro" in. Personally I think she should have done this at the beginning because she kept looking at my hand and saying how small the vein was and seemed pretty nervous about it. At least she only had one go though. I've had people try over and over when it was obvious they didn't have what I call "the touch". My nurse sent in the "pro" who definitely knew what she was doing, you could tell when she looked at my veins in my hand that this was going to be easy for he, which was a huge relief to me. She got it in one go, though I did think my arm was going to fall off because of how tight she put the tourniquet on. They put the drip on high so I would be able to go to the loo quickly, and that worked as I was able to give them a small sample, which thankfully was enough.
I had requested a specific woman anesthesiologist which was ok'd by her office and Dr. Kelly's office, but it seemed that she was busy elsewhere. I was a bit worried because the last anesthesiologist I had was a man who completely butchered me. Dr. Kelly came in to sign my leg and we went over a few things, and he reassured me that all the anesthesiologists were great at HSS. I was still weary but then a very handsome one walked in with a great sense of humour, so surprisingly that made everything alright! Funny that :-)
The OR nurse had come in to go over everything paper wise one last time. He was nice but I could barely understand a word he said, I don't know if it was because I was exhausted or he had a very thick accent. Either way we managed to get everything sorted and then we walked down to the OR. The OR was freezing as well, and the last thing I remember was the cute anesthesiologist telling me he was putting sedation in my IV and the nurse putting a nice toasty blanket on me.
I really do not recall much about post-op initially other than pain. Lots and lots of pain. I do remember telling anyone who would listen that I really, truly love demerol and they should please keep giving me some. Anyone who knows me is aware of my dislike for pills, and pain pill are usually something I stay away from as they make me loopy and I hate loopy, but it's amazing the transformation into addict I become after surgery. At some point I maxed out on the demerol so the nurse had to send a message to the handsome anesthesiologist to ask him if I could have a pain pill, which thankfully he said yes. I believe it was around this time that a very nice "helper" came over to try to convince me to eat something. I'm not much of an eater to begin with, and hospital food really doesn't make me want to eat more, so we finally agreed on some sort of roll with butter, and orange juice. This didn't seem to be a plan my stomach agreed to as after I had one bite I was nauseous. Thankfully that passed or I passed out, who can remember. At some point they put me in the CPM for an hour. I remember crying in agony at first. My mother was there, but then they told her she could leave for a while because I'd be on that for an hour. I was not happy about that, so kept bugging the nurses. After the CPM my mother was not back yet and I had to pee desperately, so the nurse said that I should get in a wheel chair to go to the loo. Earlier I had used a bedpan and that was bloody difficult just to move my hip a bit, so I was not too keen on her idea of actually moving my whole body. She insisted though and I suffered immensely. I'm sure she was doing her job but I doubt she was ready for the level of my agony and my incredibly talented way of letting everyone in the universe know of it. The only thing I can remember from getting me to the chair from the bed was me crying so hard I could not see a thing. The nurse did bring me a whole box of tissues though because of my crying. I couldn't stop. I've been through many surgeries and even my four wisdom teeth being removed, and anyone who has TMJ and has had to do that knows how painful that is. This pain though surpassed all others combined. I still don't know how I made it through. The nurse and the pt took me into the loo and helped me the whole time, but I'm sure the people out in the waiting room were able to hear me screaming in pain. When we opened the door to go back to the hall my mother was standing there and what a look on her face! She looked in as much pain as I was feeling. After this charming trip, they moved me into "phase 2".
In phase 2 they want you to sit in a chair instead of lying in a bed. The PT and nurse both agreed that it was best to leave me in the wheelchair and not even attempt to move me into the chair. This was a great idea because I had no strength to move as well as a huge amount of fear in doing so. I sat there for a while, still I had no concept of time, and then the PT decided it was time to get me walking on crutches. Somehow I managed to walk down one side of the room, and actually climb up their little practice stairs but it's all a blur to me. The pain had taken over my whole body so my brain had all but turned off completely. I said to the PT that a hip replacement would have been easier and she said "oh absolutely".
Finally I was approved to go home, it now being about 4 pm or so. We waiting downstairs with all my new toys for a cab. After we finally got one I thought going in the front would be easier. I don't know if this was a good idea or not, but I just wanted to get home so I could take another pain pill. The cab ride was horrid, every bump made me want to scream. Getting out and into my building is a fuzz to me as well.
I do realise that I've been whinging a bit about the pain this whole write up today, but i have to say that this is the worst most painful thing I have ever gone through. My poor mother is wiped out already. I asked her how she was going to make it three weeks with me if she couldn't handle a day and a half. Hopefully I will improve a bit each day so will not be as reliant on her. I did try to go to the loo last night myself when she was sleeping. I actually did really well, until I tried to get back into bed. I really hurt myself doing that and was a wreck, my dad actually heard me crying and woke up my mother. She was so tired she was in a very deep sleep. The whole point was to try to not wake her, but man was she mad at me for trying to do it myself.
Today I get to take a shower! I don't know how I'm going to get into my shower as it's not the easiest one, but I am determined. And this afternoon I have PT. I am not looking forward to trying to get into a cab again that is for sure.
I will write about what was actually done later as I am exhausted now from all of this typing.
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