SURGERY DAY
I didn’t have surgery until 10:30 a.m. I wasn’t able to eat
or drink past midnight, so I would’ve been super hungry if I wasn’t super
nervous. My fiancé, his mom, and my granddad were with me at the hospital. We
showed up ready to go… and two hours later I was heading to the operating
table. I spent quite a long while sitting in the back talking with my fiancé about
the whole situation and listening to the people in the other areas getting
ready for surgery. It appears the lady next to me had a ton of medical issues. I
was super nosey and kept listening to her talk about her medical issues. My
doctor, the anesthesiologist and my nurses came to visit while I was waiting. I
made the decision while I was back there to stay the night. My fiancé’s mom
suggested if I could stay that I really should, so I decided that maybe I
should when my doctor asked. I think she understood that this surgery was a
bigger deal than I had realized.
I don’t remember anything about going back for surgery. My fiancé
said my surgeon came out to speak with my family and told them that I had also
torn my lateral meniscus as well as the ACL. He said he cleaned up below my
kneecap too. It appears with all my dancing and running my knee was a little
rough around the edges. When I awoke, my nurse was really awesome. She
immediately began offering me something to drink and eat. She gave me some
crackers and explained everything regarding my special little pain button. She
kept telling me not to hesitate to press it. I didn’t realize at first why she
was so encouraging about me pressing the button. It wasn’t until the extra meds
from surgery started wearing off that I realized I really underestimated the amount
of pain I was going to be in. This surgery was absolutely the most painful
thing I’ve ever been through.
I was wheeled to my room where my family could come in. My
mom met us up there and brought me cinnamon teddy grahams. I had attempted to
eat saltines, but nothing was helping with the nausea. My mom also brought me a
little pink bunny which Jon named Sir Hops A Lot. I felt like death. No matter what I did, I
couldn’t sleep. It didn’t help that the breathing machine kept beeping at me.
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This entire afternoon and evening was a blur. I wish I could
say that my nurses continued to be awesome, but it appears that the floor was
highly understaffed. I couldn’t stop
throwing up. My machine that was monitoring my breathing kept going off every
time I went to sleep. I kept asking for nausea medication and the nurse took
about three hours to bring it. When she did bring it, she didn’t finish giving
it to me. She left the remainder of it sitting in my IV half empty. The next
nurse then made a comment about the syringe still being attached to my IV, then
she left her syringe on the air conditioning unit. Every time the nurses
changed, they would come in and say something about not having read the report
yet so they couldn’t help me with anything. At one point my mom and fiancé went
out to find the nurse and every light for each room was on. The nurse tried to
walk by my room without stopping even though we had asked for the nausea
medication 45 minutes before and she had yet to bring it. One of the nurses
even said, “I’m usually a better nurse than this.”
Day 2
I awoke to the nurses actually being a little more
attentive. Then they changed nurses. I thought there would be hope, but I
thought wrong. Over the night, while I had finally gotten the nausea
medication, I ate a lot of teddy grahams. I felt a lot better. They brought me
breakfast which they sat at the end of my bed. I couldn’t even reach it… so
after I tried to get to it for a while, I eventually used my good leg to pull
it toward me. I could reach enough to
get a few bites of the eggs. Then I gave up because the nausea returned. The
doctors came by to check on me. He said once I did some Physical Therapy and
could walk a few steps I could go home.
Physical Therapy came by and things got way worse. Truthfully
day two was the worst day and has been the absolute worst. Surgery was a
cakewalk compared to day two. I could barely walk. I couldn’t get comfortable
no matter how I adjusted the bed. My entire leg felt like it was on fire while
also aching horribly especially the knee cap. I cried and whined. I felt like a
complete failure. I ended up getting extremely sick. I threw up all the water I
had drank and the few bites of breakfast. I think my Physical Therapist gave up
because I simply couldn’t walk at this time. I was weak and dizzy from nausea
and lack of food.
Later on my law
partners came to visit and brought me baby bites. A friend, who is a nurse at
this same hospital, also came down to check on the situation. She was horrified
by how I was being treated. She then witnessed it herself. She went out
multiple times to check on my nausea medication again and again. My nurse (a
new one) was once again nowhere to be found. She also argued with me about taking the medication
stating that it was probably still the anesthesia and not the pain medicine. When
she showed up, she didn’t even tell me what she was giving me. She gave me a
completely different nausea medication which my nurse friend pointed out.
After all of this, I attempted to eat some baby bites to get
some energy to get out of the hospital. The Surgeon’s assistant came by to
change my bandages. The second Physical Therapist came by. She was more
patient, and I was no longer throwing up. I felt good enough to try walking. It
was really hard stepping forward, but actually stepping on my leg wasn’t too
bad. The pressure wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It was really lifting
my left leg to step forward that hurt the worst. She was very encouraging. She
even stayed after to talk to me about her dogs. We exchanged funny dog stories
and things seemed to be looking up for me. Since I could walk, they decided to
discharge me. Though, my nurse kept disappearing so it took about four hours to
finalize everything. Luckily, I had two different people from the hospital come
talk to me about my care and I told both of them that I felt they were
understaffed and that I completely understood that, but I received terrible
care while I was there.
Once I got home, my fiancé and his mother helped me get in
the bed. I took my meds, and slept off and on. Each time I had to go to the
bathroom, my fiancé had to help me lift my leg to get off the bed. Once I was
up I could use my crutches to walk to the bathroom. I felt completely dependent on him. He truly
is a wonderful person to spend his 30th birthday waiting on me hand
and foot without one single complaint. He’s a true prince charming!
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