On the other side...

I had surgery to repair the fractures in my ankle on Monday. Other than oral surgery to have my wisdom teeth removed when I was in my early 20's, I haven't had any other surgeries...and gosh, I hope to never again. Since the word was first spoken in the ER last Tuesday, I have been terrified. Of a whole host of things really, but I think it ultimately came down to being out of control and not knowing what was going on with my body while under anesthesia. And, of course, what if something went wrong with the surgery? What if I didn't wake back up? As nervous as I was, I honestly don't know if it would have been any better if I was the one in the waiting room and K was the one on the operating table. I couldn't handle that either.

The procedure took about an hour or so (based on what I was told) and the surgeon assured K that everything went well and the joint looks good. I left the hospital with a pain pump that dispensed medication through a catheter in my left leg. The effect was that my entire leg was numb so I didn't feel a thing for the rest of the day. In fact, we even had a good time hanging out with my mom once she arrived that evening. But, um, yesterday was a different story.

As the anesthesiologist told us, the numbing of my leg started to wear off around 4 or 5am yesterday. I had been instructed to try to get ahead of this by preemptively taking the oral pain meds, which I did (but not the maximum dose that I should have which was hard to justify since it wasn't hurting at that point). Once K woke up (note that I did not wake him up when the pain appeared and waited for several hours on my own), I asked him to call the doc to see if we could increase the dose from the pump. After a huge argument with K (in front of my mom, nonetheless) and meltdown, I finally got settled down with the higher dose of pain medication via pump and oral meds. Yesterday was the first full day of work that K has had in the past week since my mom was here to take care of me and the house. I spent much of the day in a haze and refused to move even the slightest bit since it hurt so much. I didn't even get up to go to the bathroom until almost 9 last night (yes, I know that's not good). Another meltdown once I moved.

Thankfully, today seems to be 100 times better than yesterday was (meaning I have already gotten up to go the bathroom with no meltdown) so hopefully I have turned the corner. The pain pump ran out overnight so I'm back to the narcotics to manage the pain. I'm really grateful that my mom was able to be here to help out with cooking, cleaning, and running errands for us. And, I know K is too. He knows he's got to step it up from here. We've got a long way to go.

I appreciate all the messages from folks and for keeping us in your thoughts. It means a lot to know we have support, which has come from some unlikely places and not come from others.

So, what's next? Well, there's not a whole lot I can do at this point. So, lots of TV and movie watching in my future. We have a follow-up with the doc in 2 weeks or so. March 8 is the date that I can start putting weight back on my leg. So, I can pretty much write off February, I guess. It's only been a week so far, of which most of my time has been spent in a narcotics haze, but I already feel frustrated that life is going on all around me and I'm not out living it. I know we'll get through this and have been hugely fortunate in our lives, but we've really hit a rough patch in the past month or so starting with the break-in at the house during the week of Christmas. I'm ready for things to get back on track. Heck, I haven't really even had a chance to get my practice off and running yet to see how that develops. Ah, this year held such promise just a few weeks ago (just look at that optimism in my first couple of posts of the year!). Wherever things are headed, at least we're doing it together and that's really all that matters in the end.