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Day 1 Post-Op

Wednesday afternoon, the Mr. and I headed out of town.

I’d tried to pack lightly but . . .

The Mr.’s parents, brother, and my sister live in the same city as my surgeon, so the plan was to stay with the in-laws.  We thought my report time was going to be at 7:30, according to the patient portal account I’d set up.  I had to call the surgery center after 3pm my time to find out for sure.  It wound up that my report time was 10:00 . . . still early but not too much so.

After eating dinner with the hubby’s parents, I headed over to Super Sis’s house to watch the Survivor finale.  She and her hubby are big fans of the show, and we were all rooting for Ben to win.

What a finale it was too!  Did you see it?  We were shouting at the TV, cringing at stressful moments, and praying like crazy (God says that we can pray for anything).

In the end, our guy won!

I had a hard time sleeping that night.  It wasn’t that I was worried, but the anticipation and uncertainty of what, exactly, I’d be feeling after the surgery kept me tossing and turning.  I finally gave up around 4am and opened up my First 5 app for my daily devotion.  The opening lines brought tears to my eyes, y’all . . .

I don’t know why I’m always amazed when God shows up in such tangible ways.  ❤

After I finished reading, I got up and did my physical therapy exercises.

I’d been told that I wouldn’t be able to do lower body workouts until my boot comes off . . . FOUR WHOLE WEEKS.  Sigh.

This was my view as I did lunges and squats . . .

Isn’t the tree gorgeous?  I’ll miss sitting in front of it on Christmas morning this year.  The Mr. is on call for the first Christmas ever, so we are going to have to wait until the 29th to do Christmas with his parents and our siblings.

When I finished with my workout, I grabbed a shower.

Y’all, I’m going to have to rely on the Mr. helping me get semi-showers, where I sit in a chair, drape my right foot over the side of the tub, while he holds the nozzle over my body.  This is what we did last year, and I was miserable . . . while he chuckled each and every time.

Yeah, so the shower yesterday morning was amazing.

It wound up being a good thing that I’d gotten up so early because I got a phone call from the surgery center at 7:30 asking if I could be there sooner – at 8:30.  The Mr. was still sleeping, so I woke him up, and he got ready really fast.

While he was driving me there, his dad went to pick up my post-surgery pain pills, which he and the Mr. had dropped off at the pharmacy the night before.

The hubby dropped me off so I wouldn’t have to walk very far while he found a parking spot.

They called me back quickly, and I had the joy of peeing in a cup for them to do a pregnancy test – something they do for all non-menopausal women.  Ha!

Then, I changed into my gown, and they brought the hubby back to sit with me while the nurse put in an IV and got me to sign off on more paperwork.

I love the staff at my orthopedic center.  They are very gentle and tenderhearted.  They see patients at their worst, suffering from so much pain.  Their care is top-notch.

It didn’t take too long before I was wearing compression and no-slip socks, waiting for my surgeon.

I took pictures of all sides of my foot just to compare with what it will look like when I get to see it post-surgery (it’s currently wrapped up in thick bandages) . . .

My nurse checked in frequently, and I had to call her three times to help me to the bathroom to go potty.  Nerves were starting to kick in big time.  When I returned to bed each time, I was cold.  She patiently gave me a new blanket every time.

Warm blankets from the blanket heater are the absolute BEST!

I was told that I was my doctor’s second surgery, but we still had to wait . . . and wait . . . and wait.  This doctor is very popular because he’s got mad skills.  I was glad that I wasn’t last in line like my first surgery.

The Mr.’s dad came back and waited with us, cracking jokes along the way.

The surgeon finally came to visit, went over the procedure, and marked my right foot with his customary smiley face.

Then, I got to wait a while longer.

Finally, the OR nurses appeared and whisked me off so quickly that I barely had a chance to bid the hubby farewell.

Things were so different from last year.  When I had my first surgery, I went into a pre-room first where they gave me something to sleep before administering my nerve block.  I guess we skipped this step since I refused the option for the block.  Last year, after I’d gotten my cast off, I’d experienced a burning sensation that ran down my big toe and across that toe’s knuckle.  The pain was constant and had me in tears for days.  I’d also been numb down the rest of my foot for weeks.  I didn’t want to go through that again despite the relief from pain that the block promised.  Talk about a catch 22!

So, instead, I was wheeled directly into the operating room.  It was FILLED with nurses and other techs, and I said hello to all of them.

I helped them move me from the gurney to the operating table, and they got my surgical cap on for me.  Then, the anesthesia nurse began giving me good oxygen.  At the same time, I could tell that they had put the anesthesia in my IV, although I was surprised that I wasn’t out in two seconds flat.  I’m a lightweight, don’t you know.  I keep breathing deeply and finally felt myself drift off.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the recovery room.

My mouth was so dry (the result of not having anything to drink since the night before as well as the anesthesia).  They brought me Gatorade.

They gave me the hardware that they’d removed, sterilized and sealed up in a bag.

See that long bar with the holes? That’s the plate. It doesn’t look anything like what I expected! It’s also a lot smaller than what I’d thought from feeling it in my leg (a strange feeling indeed).

If you look closely at the next picture, you’ll see the LONG pins that were used on the inside of my ankle.  There were THREE of those, to be exact and played a big role in the swelling that stayed with me on the inside/top of my foot.  The doctor had told me, back during my last appointment, that once I healed from this surgery, the swelling would eventually go away.

I was in a LOT of pain down the right side (outer part) of my ankle.  The next picture reflects just how badly I was feeling.

I couldn’t feel a thing on the inner side of my ankle, and my toes were numb, but that right side was something else.

Now, I’m really not one to complain much, but I did some advocating, let me tell you.  I knew that I shouldn’t be feeling that kind of pain.

They gave me two Oxycontin and promised that I’d be able to tell the difference within thirty minutes.

They didn’t touch the pain.  I was in tears.  The Mr. was beside himself because he remembered how I had not felt anything for a day and a half last year.

The anesthesiologist came by and mentioned the nerve block and another medicine.  I opted for the second thing (I have it written down somewhere but can’t get to it while I’m writing this).  He said that the medicine would make me a little sleepy.  I was all for that.

The nurse had to administer it slowly, in two batches.  I felt the effects of it immediately and began to relax quickly.

It seemed as though it took forever to get discharged; instructions had to be given, and the IV had to be taken out.

She also gave me a folder that contained the x-rays the doctor had taken during the surgery.

The first picture is when they were halfway done.  You can see, if you compare it to the next picture, that there’s no hardware!  It looks like he used staples instead of stitches.  I’m glad because they are easy for the nurse to pull out, and the pain when she does it is like pulling out hairs from your leg.  They will remove the staples on Thursday.

No hardware!

We finally got to leave and headed back to the Mr.’s parents’ house.

That’s when things went south.

I had started feeling sick as I’d gotten in the car.  I made the Mr. pull over while he was driving so I could throw up.  I didn’t, but the feeling remained.


It was just awful.

I couldn’t get into his parents’ house fast enough and crutched my way to the bathroom as fast as I could.

I still didn’t throw up though.

Oh Misery, you and I got well acquainted.

I tried to eat a few crackers, but my mouth was so dry, it was a struggle.

We stayed about an hour before heading home.

The Mr.’s mom sent two Sprites (or 7 Ups) with me, along with more crackers, but I still had a hard time.  I sipped on the drink but mostly tried to sleep.

The first half of the drive was okay.  Not so much with the second half.

As I rode, stretched out in the back seat, I struggled.  As I sat up to take a drink, I got super sick and threw up in one of the bags the Mr. had put back there with me.

I never want Fruit Punch Gatorade again.

I felt better and rested more; however, as we pulled into the garage, I got sick again before even getting out of the car.

More Gatorade.


The dogs were happy to see me.  Although I wanted to love on them, I just couldn’t.  It was all I could do to get to my recliner.

The Mr. helped me to the bathroom a couple of times where I threw up more.

The protein bar I’d eaten in the car came up.

Along with more Gatorade.

Total misery, I tell you.

The nurse had told me to start taking my prescription pain pills when I got home, so I took two; however, the Mr. started comparing what the directions said with what I’d taken last year and discovered that I had taken fewer pills with each dose after my first surgery, so we decided to go down to one pill every four hours to try to alleviate my sickness.

I was exhausted and turned out the light around 8pm.

Thank goodness for my new recliner.  It’s incredibly comfortable, and although I woke up nearly every hour, I slept well when I was sleeping, if that makes sense.

The Mr. got up and helped me to the restroom around 11:30.  I still had a lot of nausea, and my stomach hurt.  When I got him up at 5:00 to help me potty, the nausea was gone!  I stayed awake and haven’t been sick to this point.  I’m praying that this side effect is gone permanently.

And so this is how things currently stand . . . or should I say recline.

The Mr. had to work today.  A couple of days ago as we were discussing the rest of the week, I was very apprehensive about him not being home today; however, because the nausea is gone, I was able to tell him to have a good day as he left this morning.  He’ll be home around noon to check on me and wait for Best Buy to deliver a new dryer (a story for another post).

I am so thankful for all of the prayers that people are lifting up on my behalf.  I put in a request on the military support group page I’m a member of on Facebook and have gotten dozens and dozens of supportive comments.  My friends have been texting me, and I’ve been in constant contact with my family.

Of course, there’s the Mr.  He’s been his usual wonderful self, fussing at me because he’s worried that I’ll do too much, all the while caring for me without complaining.  He’s a good man; I am very undeserving of him.

Thank you for the kind comments you’ve left as I’ve traveled down this challenging road.  Your prayers and words of encouragement always make me tear up in joy and gratitude.

I’m still #findingjoyinthejourney despite how difficult it’s been.

God is so good.

God’s plans are perfect.

God’s love for me is steadfast and true.

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