Nov. 11, 2011~ Arthroscopic Surgery on Right Hip:
Being a Pre-op RN, I suppose I'm a little more (ahem) picky than most. I mean, certainly it's understandable considering how much I know can go wrong, right?? Just remember, ignorance is bliss, folks! Well, my surgical process at Texas Orthopedic Hospital was as smooth and seamless as it could possibly be. From the ancillary staff to the nurses to anesthesia...it was absolutely fantastic! Riiiight up until the part where they were "sending me home too soon!!!" You see, I was having a very simple, straightforward scope of my right hip to repair my torn labrum and to do some debridement (that's "shaving off") of the excess bone on both the femur and the acetabulum (hip socket rim) causing the impingement, which was causing me sooo much pain for sooo long. It was to be a 2 hour procedure and I was to be admitted and stay overnight for observation, then go home on crutches the next day. Recovery was to be a piece of cake...weightbearing after only 2 days on crutches, back to work after 2 weeks and hip would be fixed. Done. No more pain...all better! *insert screeching record player sound effect here*
The first thing I remember after surgery was pain. Well, duh! No surprise there...I just had my hip dislocated and pulled into traction (I later found out) for over 3 hours! Then I remember a nurse (rather stinkin' aggressive in my opinion) trying to get me to drink a Coke, that apparently I requested, and choke down a saltine cracker. In my extremely groggy mind (I'm kind of a lightweight...anesthesia knocks me O-U-T, out!) I'm thinking "why on earth do they want me to eat a cracker if I'm in PACU, about to go to my room?" Remember, what I said about blissful ignorance?? THEN, the nurse insists I get up, do crutch training with PT and go pee. Wait...WHAT??? Why am I doing all these "things that must be done before discharge" if I'm staying overnight? At this point, I'm pretty darn awake...panic-stricken a wee bit, my dear husband is finally (seemed like eternity) at my bedside and I completely LOSE IT! Like, can't catch your breath, full-blown sniveling and sobbing "What is going on? WHY am I going home? Was the surgery not successful? Did he not do ANYTHING in there? Is there nothing wrong with my hips after all and it's all in my head and I'm just a big baby and I'm imagining the pain I've had for YEARS???" Lemme tell y'all, for those of you who don't know my husband...for starters, I call him Big Daddy, well everyone does really. Don't ask me how it got started, it just did, and it stuck. Now, Big Daddy is a very, VERY large man...a big hunk of a guy, with a very soft gooey center (especially when it comes to his "girls"). Big Daddy is an ex-Green Beret with the U.S. Army. This man could kill you just by lookin' at ya real mean. He could eat rocks for breakfast and steel for dinner. Yet, he is the calmest, coolest man I know...easygoing, sweet and friendly...and everyone who has ever met him, absolutely loves him. And, no it's not 'cause they're scared of him! So, anyway, here's Big Daddy calm as ever...which only irritates me even more. He just keeps saying (in a nutshell) "It's okay baby, let's just get you home, I'll fill you in on everything when we're in the car" So, I'm blubbering while getting dressed, blubbering while I'm doing my stupid "walker training" (PT opted for a grandma walker instead of crutches after I assured them I already knew how to use the darn things...blubbering through my words of course), sobbing while I'm up to pee. Again, being the smart nurse I am (yeah, something like that) I realize that my uncontrollable emotions are most likely the direct effect of lots and lots of anesthesia. However, this knowledge does not make me feel any less ridiculous for the lack of control of tears streaming down my face...pitiful, really. The nurse's aide wheels me to the door....poor dude, doesn't have a clue what to do with this pathetic woman in his chair. He helps me into the car and gives a cheery "Have A Great Day and Happy Holidays!"...I want to throw up. So, here we are...moment of truth. I tell Big Daddy to "just lay it on me" as I've now at this point already prepared for the worst. I mean, why else would I be going home? There really wasn't anything to fix in my hip after all, it was all just my imagination, there's nothing really wrong with me...my hips are perfectly healthy and fine. Big Daddy takes a deep breath, "Nope. Just the opposite. Your hips are even WORSE than the doc anticipated and he is sending us to another hip specialist to be evaluated for Hip Dysplasia. He repaired the torn labrum, but that's all. He didn't want to risk damaging anything further. He says he doesn't know how you've even been able to walk on these damaged hips for as long as you have!" Well, knock me over with a feather....I really AM screwed up!
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| Here's Big Daddy and I...much younger and MUCH skinnier! ;-) |
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