We arrived at the doctor's around 6:30... 30 minutes early. Mom's fear of traffic didn't materialize. We waited in the waiting room over an hour. The whole time, Mom, Dad, and I are the only ones talking. We are yukking it up and I am pretty sure we were annoying all the other folks. This is one of the few times I get to hang out with both my parents together so I am going to enjoy it no matter what the circumstances. Though my tendon is separated... how nice that it brings my parents together...
It wasn't until 7:45 until my name was finally called. The nurse was very nice. She has been doing this for 30 years and was very eager to complain about her husband of 25 years. I learned that he works for the government and plays golf 3 times a week. She made it clear that "working for the government" means playing golf most of the time. She was quick to also point out that he did not know how to deal with the emotional problems their college age daughter was currently going through and because of that "he is worthless." All this commentary was quite amusing and I thought would help me take my mind off the fact that she was sticking a large IV needle into the vein in my hand. As I saw the IV hanging out of my hand... That was all it took. I quickly started to get light headed and had what she called a Vasovagal Response or, in laymen's terms, a totally lame-ass, wuss reaction. I basically fainted. When I came to, I had a cold rag on my head and oxygen pumping into my nose. Yup. I am a huge wuss. "Doctor... this man has a torn achilles and apparently a huge vagina that we will need to remove..."
At this time, my nurse went and got my parents... She told them that this is common (in men) and happens a few times a week. My parents came around the corner with compassion and sympathy on their faces as their baby boy lay there.... oh wait... That would be what SHOULD happen. Instead, my parents come around with iPhones poised to capture this glorious moment and then text the pictures out to friends and family. My shame had gone viral Ah well - I still love my parents.
After that, the rest was pretty basic. Dr. Brodie stopped by and gave me the spoiler on the surgery. He mentioned that I would be in a cast for about 2 weeks and then be moved into the boot once I got my stitches taken out (May 17th I believe). Physical Therapy and weight bearing will be around 6 weeks. Between weeks 2 and 6, I would have exercises at home to do. This was good news in my mind based on what I had read online. Some folks were in casts for the entire 6 weeks! So far, so good.
My anesthesiologist came by as well. He was quite funny and I couldn't help but joke about the fact that he could save a lot of time and effort in knocking me out: just wave a big needle in front of my face and I will probably faint.
I went into surgery around 8:30. The thing about operating rooms is the smell. It smells like ionized antiseptic. I remember it from my ACL surgeries. The other thing I remembered once I got in the OR is how sneaky anesthesiologists can be... or should I call them aneSNEAKYologists... They try to distract you as they slip you a mickey. This one was no different as he kept asking me benign questions about what I do and where I live. When he asked me for the second time "What do you do for work?" I was about to chastise him for asking me the same question twice when I woke up in the recovery room. Damn sneaky anesthesiologists....
Recovery A.K.A. returning to the land of the living. The nurses once again were very nice. I have heard that some folks even get very emotional when recovering from anesthesia, specifically blonde-haired, blue-eyed people (Carly - maybe it is just women... of all hair and eye colors? :), but that isn't me. I just feel a little shaky and groggy with a slightly upset stomach. "I am sorry Mr. and Ms. Ross... We were able to fix your son's tendon but we could not remove the vagina..."
Dr. Brodie stopped by before I left to give me a quick recap of the surgery. My surgery went very well. The tendon had snapped higher than usual, up near the calf. The gap was roughly 2-3 cms. The incision is not exactly behind my heel but more towards the inside of my leg. I appreciated the post game commentary. Just that little bit of time means so much to a patient and I encourage all current and future doctors to not ignore the pre and post surgery visits with your patients.
As I sipped ginger ale, I assessed my post-op situation. I had a big cast on my foot going up my calf. The nurses had put ice on it (as if I would get anything from that through the massive cast...). The pain in the ankle was subtle like a dull ache... the kind you get from watching too much CNN. I can wiggle my toes which I had heard that some people couldn't do for a few days. Overall, surgery is complete. Now to step two: beating post surgical pain.
This is me being psyched for recovery... and supporting Bluegrass Indoor Karting
We got into Dad's SUV and headed back to Mom's. After the shaky process to get me up the steps and onto the main floor of the house (Thanks Dad for helping stabilize), I went directly to my presidential suite here at Casa de la Debi and got my foot propped up. It wasn't 30 minutes until I had to pee for the first time. In summary. the ankle likes to be elevated. It does not like to be down. The blood goes straight to it and it throbs. The pain isn't too bad but the ankle reminds you to go lay down and elevate.
I got myself on a regular pain med schedule. The meds aren't that bad as far as clouding my mind and I assume are helping the pain. I am taking 1 every 5 hours.
Carly came by and brightened my day. She brought a Rita's Chocolate Misto (which is one of my favorite things on this green planet) as well as a little care package filled with crosswords, Sudoku, and comic books (yes - I love comics). She hung out for a couple hours and chatted with me. It was thoughtful beyond words. She might be one of the sweetest and kindest people I have met before. Seriously. Thank You.
That concludes Day 0 of surgery. A bit long winded but catharsis is ignorant of word count. Looking forward to Day 1... and Day 180.
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