Got out of the hospital today. Woot.
So, surgery was Tuesday. It went pretty well, or so I was told. I do have pictures (unfortunately they aren’t graphic!) but you will be able to see my implant which is pretty cool. It is also partly pink. Now, I am partially made of pink. This means I officially poop rainbows. Go me.
Wednesday was decent. Well, the morning was. I got out of bed and moved around, which went well. But toward the end of the night all hell broke loose. I had a severe cramp in my hip. And I mean s-e-v-e-r-e. I have never felt so much pain. I swore off chocolate and vodka if it meant that pain would go away. If that puts it into any understandable terms for you…
That night was also rough. They had somehow managed to get behind my pain medication schedule so catching up was really difficult. I was loaded up with drugs, so much so that I was groggy well into yesterday afternoon.
Thursday I got nothing done. I was in too much pain to do physical therapy, so it was just a day of trying to recover and get all of the drugs out of my system.
Today was a much better day. I (well, they) finally got back on my pain meds track, so I can move around much better. Don’t get me wrong, it still hurts, but it’s progress, and I can handle progress.
Now we’re at the in-laws’ house. It’s nice to have a place to relax that’s open and where I don’t have to worry about cats tripping me or jumping on my hip. I miss my babies, but I prefer them not smashed against the wall, which is what would happen if I got a surprise pounce on my left hip.
That’s about it. I’m watching Wife Swap and trying not to throw up because the one mom hasn’t shaved her pits in about 15 years. This is probably not beneficial for my recovery.
Oh, as a side note, some butt munch brought the measles to Omaha. Apparently the sicko was here the weekend of my birthday and dragged his/her sick badonkadonk around MY Hyvee. How lovely. Maybe my luck has changed, because I should no signs of measles.
*achoo*
Just kidding.
The last two days have been pretty rough. I’ve been having a lot of pain and some major hip cramps. I honestly didn’t know I could feel that awful.
Tuesday night they loaded me up with morphine, percocet, and oxycontin to try to control all of my pain. It worked, but holy goodness was I ever doped up. I couldn’t eat because I couldn’t stay awake long enough to eat! It was so weird. I can’t say I’ve ever fallen asleep trying to put jelly on toast or trying to get said toast into my mouth. I also could hardly speak. I remember some doctors/people coming in, but I have no clue what we talked about. I just know I was slurring. Attractive.
I haven’t showered since Tuesday, so I look very attractive. I’m sure you all wish you could see me right now!
Might get to go home today, but not sure. It’ll depend how I hold up today.
Surgery went well, though I heard I made them work hard since my muscles are so bad ass.
I had one bad (okay, hellaciously bad) spasm last night, but otherwise things went weil.
Will have more deets later! Thanks for checking on me, folks!
PS – No staples, he used glue. Site looks pretty good, with minimal bruising and swelling. Sorry to disappoint you, Tash!! hehe
In 12 hours I’ll be checking in and prepping for Hattie’s removal and replacement. Fare thee well, left hip. It was nice to have you around… until 2 months ago when you began your slow, painful death. I feel like I’m stuck in the scene from City of Angels where Meg Ryan takes like, a ridiculously long time to die, even though we ALL know it’s coming.
*sigh*
Two days until surgery, hopefully.
There were threats of postponing my surgery date. I woke up the other day with eye pain, and that usually means I have a bout of optic neuritis coming my way. In the name of honesty I called my orthopedic doctor, and he said he thought it would be best to postpone.
Honesty is NOT always the best policy.
Anyway, I begged, I pleaded, I even spouted some waterworks, but he insisted they wouldn’t do anything unless my ophthalmologist cleared me. I had an appointment tomorrow morning, but called Friday and found out there was a cancellation, so I hauled it that way. She said I look good, so surgery is still on.
Let’s see:
1. UTI
2. stomach virus
3. eye pain
We are definitely at threat level “ELEVATED”.
Those 3 things threatened my surgery, so hopefully bad things come in 3 and I’m set. But knowing me I’ll catch the bird flu, or some other one-thought obsolete illness (like whooping cough, if you recall that episode). I have to make it 2 whole days without getting sick. Then surgery. Then x# of weeks not getting sick, which should be easy since I’ll be trapped at home. But you all know me, I’m sure a light breeze will waft germs into my window causing me to become ill, and causing my new, fake hip to rot.
Too bad my odd luck doesn’t translate to useful things like winning the lottery or having the winning Wheel Watchers Spin ID on Wheel of Fortune.
I had a doctor’s appointment today. Let me begin my story by going a little off my original track…
My PCP (primary care physician, not drug of choice) referred me to a urologist (gotta love the English language, it breaks all the rules!) because my pee-r is broken. Well, not broken, but I’ll spare you the details of how I pee.
Point is – here is why healthcare is so expensive:
Doctor: So, what brings you in today?
Me: A referral.
Him: What are your symptoms?
Me: Don’t have any, he just thought I should come.
Him: (insert talk about MS and hip replacements here)
Him: Okay, see you in 6 months.
How much did that one cost my insurance company? I’m going to venture a guess of 350. Possibly more. Ridiculous.
So, back to my original point. I am sick of being called Rachel. That’s not my name. In the past I’d respond, and once I knew they were talking to me, I’d correct them. I have since gotten so tired of being called Rachel, I ignore said name offender who cannot grasp that -elle in Rachelle is the same as the -elle in Michelle. Tough stuff.
So, the chick calls Rachel, Rachel, finally she looks at me and says “Rachel?”. I said, last name? She also butchered that, but I knew she meant me. So I said, oh, my name is Rachelle. No apology, just a death glare. Why are you staring me down? YOU said my name wrong.
Go into the room, where she proceeds to call me Raquel. She said it all snidely, so I knew she was being a bleepin’ bleep. I ignored her.
Doctor comes in, hello Raquel. I said no, it’s Rachelle. He looked PISSED. Opened the door, and said Rachelle…the patient’s name is Rachelle. Then shut the door. Booyah!!
You shoulda seen the look she gave me when I left.
But really, my name is Rachelle, it’s not Rachel. Get it right.
Maybe I should change the spelling to Ruhshell, so people can sound it out.
The next medical professional who has the nerve to get all wide-eyed about my situation, followed with a “you’re SO YOUNG!!” is gonna get a whack with one of my crutches.
I own a mirror. I don’t need you to tell me I’m young.
If I have to pee in one more cup, I’m calling this whole thing off.
…eating lunch and dinner with a group of old farts. It’s not happening. The joint replacement wing can suck it.
Maybe an old person thrives in a group rah rah sis boom bah setting, but I’m not old. In case no one noticed.
It's not a bomb, it's just my hip replacement... 