Thanksgiving and Surgery

The deal on Thursday morning was, I would either have surgery or I could go home for the festivities as long as I returned 12 hours later for more IV antibiotics. They threatened me with a pic line when I returned so I wasn't going to challenge the 12 hour time limit. The IV's were taken out of my arm and the family was ready to take me home. We were walking down the hall when a nurse came running after me, wanting to see my IV spot. She looked at it and said someone from the blah blah blah team needed to look at it. 45 minutes and 5 shots later, we left the hospital. I was incredibly excited to leave even for a little while. We went to Thanksgiving at friends' where I had to continue to keep my hand elevated. As you can see I look like a superhero.

I headed back in to the hospital 18 hours later (I had permission to be gone that long!) and saw the plastic surgeon. He asked ME what he should do. I told him to "just make it better" so he and his residents operated.

They cut along the lines in my hand an inch and a half along the "father" then up 1/2 inch along the "light" and put a catheter in my tendon. They also cut all the way across the first line in my finger-from the top. Can you imagine it or are you completely confused?

Later that night I was visiting with friends when my hand was starting to feel the worse pain known to man. I was trying to be keep a strong face, because of my guests, but I was deteriorating quickly. I informed the nurse of my excruciating pain (she was awfully crabby) and she returned with several colorful pills. I told my friends if they left I would be fine and after finally convincing them I was okay, they left.

First, I dropped my cell phone. Getting out of bed is not really an option at this time, as I am attached to 2 different IV's, heart monitor, some other thing on my finger, Oh and I'm somewhat buzzed. I made myself as comfortable as I could and waited for the medicine to take the pain away. But the pain didn't get away, it got much, much worse. Like I said, I dropped my phone on the floor. A previous nurse told me I couldn't call out on my room phone (which wasn't true). I emailed Rob a desperate note. I just wanted to hear his voice so I could feel more at ease. I called the nurse again and told Mrs Crabby Pants that I was in ALOT of pain! She left the room with an "okay." Okay? Okay what? It's 12am and my hand hurts!

15 minutes later Dr. Van Hottie walked in. More like Dr Van Good Looking, but at that moment, he was my knight in shining armor. But it does make my boring story a little more entertaining huh? Okay, back on track, Dr Van Hottie walked in and I started to get teary eyed. He unwrapped my hand. It looked ghastly. He left the room and came back 30 seconds later with the biggest syringe I have ever seen. He stuck it into my wrist first. I was teary, but okay. Then he took the syringe out and firmly put his finger over the injection site holding it and rubbing the medicine into my wrist. Then, I cried like a baby. Totally, uncontrollably sobbed. I was blubbering, about how I just wanted to talk to Rob and I begged Dr Hottie to get my cell phone so I call him. He picked up my room phone and I told him it wouldn't work when he rolled his eyes and mumbled something about the nurses and dialed my Handsome Prince. I sobbed to Rob while I got 3 more numbing shots in my hand. I told him how I dropped my phone and needed him and how the nurse wasn't being nice so I didn't want to ask her to pick it up...It was a sad sad night. The Dr did walk out to the hall and talk with the nurse for a few minutes, then came to say goodnight. The nurse was as sweet as could be the rest of the night. She even got me a fan and heated blankets. :) I didn't mean to get her a lashing, but she was being mean.

Coming soon, Too Many Drugs and Kids