Under the knife ... and beyond

Whew!  At my Tuesday appointment, the surgeon pronounced the blister condition as "satisfactory" and so the surgery scheduled for yesterday was confirmed.  I kept my fingers very crossed during the wait from Tuesday to yesterday afternoon ... just in case.  But, fortunately, all went ahead as scheduled yesterday.  So far, the surgery seems to have been concluded without any obvious hitch.

Because the location for the surgery had been changed to the local ambulatory care facility from the doctor's private clinic, it was necessary to redo the paperwork I had already done and sign page after page of new documents, all saying pretty much the same thing as the those for the clinic had.  It was startling, however, to be asked whether I had an "Advance Directive" (aka "Living Will") and when the answer was "yes" to be asked to bring in a copy.  All this for outpatient surgery!

I can understand that it's an excellent idea to know one's wishes in case of incapacitation ahead of time, but it does shake one's confidence before going in for surgery that doesn't seem all that major.  It also shakes one a bit to have to initial "left" twice on the form describing the ankle scheduled for surgery.  Then, when one sees the surgeon actually mark the ankle itself with what appears to be magic marker, one wonders whether some people still have problems determining "left" from "right."  But I've heard horror stories about surgery mix-ups, so I am very happy that everyone was being very careful.

As directed, HWMBO delivered me to the care center just over an hour ahead of the scheduled surgery time.  He then was able to join me in my pre-op cubicle after the staff had helped me to dress in a hospital shift, bandaged my gold wrist bracelets that are too tight to take off, and inserted an IV drip.  Unfortunately, in his zeal to document my progress, he took some photos that I fervently hope will never see the light of day anywhere.  Ever.  Thank God, they didn't let him into the operating room itself!

The anesthetic was just enough to make me pleasantly drowsy, not to completely knock me out, so I was in a twilight zone where I could hear voices but couldn't - and didn't care to - understand what those voices were saying.  When I fully regained consciousness, I was back in my pre-op cubicle with a foot that appeared to have significantly increased in size, having been covered with an impressive bandage, an orthopedic shoe and an ice pack.  At the time and until about five minutes ago, I could feel no pain whatsoever.  In fact, it felt SO much better than it had before the operation that I - almost - jumped up and began dancing around right away.  Of course, I didn't do that.  And now, I believe that the prescription painkillers will have to prove their worth.

Since returning home, I've mostly been sleeping - better than I have in a long time.   Water, tea and crackers or dry toast are about all that I've been able to eat so far and I really don't even want anything else.  Wouldn't it be nice if my appetite remained like this long enough for me to shed about 30+ pounds?   Ah well, one can always hope.

The crutches are a pain, to put it mildly.  But I'll be rid of them in a couple days.  In the meantime, they do help me move around when necessary.  And they make me appreciate more fully what those who must rely on them permanently must endure. 

Let the healing begin!  It will be a very quiet New Year's Eve around here.