Well, I had my foot surgery on Thursday. It was as fun as expected. I didn't have to be at the hospital until noon, so I worked until 11:30. I couldn't eat or drink after midnight on Wednesday so of course I became obsessed with food/drink right about midnight on Wednesday. My husband met me at the hospital on Thursday and before long I was wearing a flimsy gown and had an IV in my hand. We sat in a room watching "Pawn Stars" and "Dirty Jobs" until it was time for me to go under the knife. The anesthesiologist came in and explained that I would be sedated but not fully anesthetized. I had a few questions at that point because I knew the surgeon would be sawing bone and stuff and I wanted to make sure I wasn't going to hear any of that. I was assured that I would not feel or remember anything. Good enough.
At 2:00 the anesthesia guy (not the same one, though - this one was much younger and cuter) injected some happy juice into my IV. Then a nurse wheeled me into the operating room. The last thing I remember was a mask being placed over my face. "Here's some oxygen." And that was it. The next thing I remember is waking up and hearing a U2 song playing in the operating room. I heard my podiatrist saying something about "Rattle and Hum" and I immediately became some sort of Chatty Cathy. "Oh, I saw Rattle and Hum when I was in college. You saw it? What year did you graduate?" Or something like that. I just know that I was blathering on for some reason.
A few minutes later, my husband and I were reunited in a recovery room. I could already feel a dull pain seeping into my left foot, which was heavily bandaged. Dr. D recapped the surgery for me. He sawed off the bone spurs (that were preventing my foot from bending normally) and since the cartilage was damaged, he drilled holes in it to spur regrowth/healing. Because of all the trauma to the foot (the sawing and drilling), he assured me that I could look forward to lots of pain and swelling.
A nurse handed my husband some post-surgery instructions, helped me to get dressed, and then gave me a couple of Percocets to stave off the pain that was creeping in. We were also given a prescription for Percocet. Finally, a nurse wheeled me out to the car and I was officially released. The rest of the day is a bit of a blur. P got take-out from Chilis but I was so nauseated that I couldn't eat it. I've mostly been parked on the couch since then. I am trying not to take any Percocet today because the nausea is just not fun. I have been sleeping on the couch because it's easier to prop my foot up that way. Plus, I get nervous that one of the dogs might jump up on the bed and jostle my foot, which would suck. I go in for a bandage change on Tuesday.
The hardest part, aside from the the relentless throbbing pain, is that today is a beautiful day and I can't get outside and enjoy it. I would love to do some biking or at least walk the dogs, but alas, I must stay inside and feel sorry for myself. I'm touched by all of the calls and texts I've received. I'm not sure how coherent my responses have been. One friend even dropped off brownies - woo hoo! A couple of my Facebook friends suggested that I wash down the painkillers with wine and since I'm pretty sure that people die from doing that sort of thing, I think I need to take a closer look at my Facebook friends' list once I'm feeling better.
In other news, today is our 17th wedding anniversary, so Happy Anniversary to my guy! He's doing his best to be a good nurse. I asked him to cut up an orange for me yesterday and he cut it in a way that never would have occurred to me but hey, he's doing his best to appease his frustrated couch-bound wife. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to watching bad TV.