Other People's Surgery

I'm usually reluctant to write too much about my husband. He's a fairly introverted and private person. But I wanted to write about his experience mainly because I'd gone through something similar somewhat recently. As my six readers most likely know, I got hip labral repair surgery just 18 months ago. I blogged about it all--the pain, the recovery, the depression. Angry Crutches Game Face emerged as a sort of anthem of our time...well, not really, but because of it I felt slightly better about feeling fucking terrible.

This time, it was RJ's turn.

Two days ago he had surgery on his right heel to break up a bone spur and relieve some terrible plantar fasciitis. He'd been living with this pain for several years, almost as long as I'd known him. And perhaps due to the recent Medicaid expansion, he was able to have the surgery without sending us into terrible medical debt.

The foot. Poor foot. 

Lucky, I have had the time to be home with him, helping with whatever he needs. It's strange and difficult to see such a big, powerful guy first full of drugs, then in terrible pain, and now entering into the very real feelings of frustration, boredom and uselessness. Unlike my surgery, which was on a joint, RJ should be able to get around pretty well in a week or two, and at least be able to go back to work in a limited capacity. When he was released from the surgery with his big black boot, the surgeon told me he could walk on his foot at once with no damage to it. Jealous!

What they recommend with his type of repair is that you get a nerve block, which completely numbs your leg from the knee down and can last from 1 1/2 to two days. The anesthesiologist hooks up an ultrasound machine, locates the nerve, and then carefully injects the numbing agent around both sides of the nerve. This was pretty cool because you could watch the doctor perform the whole thing.

Just before, RJ had been given some meds to help him relax. Those lovely drugs are the best part of surgery, I think. Instantly I saw his eyes glaze over, and then out of his mouth comes this:

RJ: What do you call a boomerang that doesn't come back?
Nurses: What?
RJ: A stick. (Hee hee)

On his "four beer buzz," he told several more jokes before being wheeled off into the OR. Luckily for RJ, he was only put into "twilight" in terms of anesthesia. So, while not aware of what was going on in surgery, he would spend way less time coming out of it in recovery.

The few times I have been into surgery, they've knocked me completely out. I'm a lightweight with drugs and alcohol anyway, so when I come out of it, it takes hours and I struggle with nausea, dry mouth, and insanity. I. hate. it.

RJ didn't have ANY of that. He was what he called, "fuzzy" for a few hours, but he had no nausea or vomiting, so we made the two hour trip from Durango back to Creede and were home by 1:30 in the afternoon. We got him upstairs resting comfortably, and he complained about how weird the numb leg felt--as though you had a limb that was constantly asleep.

We'd been told that his nerve block would last about 36 hours. His lasted just over 12. I mean, he's a big ass dude, so this wasn't totally surprising. I had dozed off a bit around 9pm when he woke me in terrible pain. He spent the next 24 hours taking the blessed Oxy, not sleeping, and trying not to throw up from the intense pain.  He described it as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to his heel. Thankfully, yesterday in the early evening, the intensity began to subside and he could finally sleep. Today has been much less of a battle. He's bored. He's not in much pain until he moves the foot, and hopefully in the next week he will be able to get around fairly normally with his boot.

Das Boot, which looks somewhat like this. But has a little pump on it for more stability.

It seems that the big difference between our respective surgeries is pain and recovery. While I didn't have too much intense pain, because my repair was on a joint, I could bare way less weight on my leg. I was on crutches for a full two weeks and had very limited movement. RJ seems to have had much more pain initially, but his mobility should return quickly.

In any case, the hope is that he will eventually be in WAY less pain in the long run and stop getting fatigued at 3pm because it feels like he's been standing on a nail all day.

This wouldn't be a Mann's World if I didn't post something about the house, even if a it's small thing:

Yesterday the parents of some friends of mine, who own a fine dining restaurant in Dallas, saved and brought to Creede several cool wooden wine boxes at my request. I planned on possibly using them as cabinets in the bathroom. Well...they look friggin' rad! They fit our house and our aesthetic, were cheap (read: free) and super easy to install. I did it myself in less than half an hour. Had I not had a connection to these boxes, you can usually call a larger liquor store--I inquired at Argonauts in Denver--and they'll sell them to you for cheap. They quoted me $5. Anyway...

Behold the majesty:

An elegant place for your petite tp. 

Stuff we regularly use in the open box, the other two contain storage.