Post Op

I still got these goddamn stitches in my leg.  I thought I was going to get them out this morning and as it turns out, that thought was incorrect.  They get to be attached to my flesh for another week.  This is the first time that I have every had stitches, so I guess that I shouldn't be surprised at their lifetime.  I have nothing to compare it to. 

They look weird.  I can't even describe it   But I'm going to try.  Because I'm a dick like that.  Where the scope is a stitch at each point.  It looks like two little antennae are poking out at each incision point.  The actual incision point, where the bulk of the cutting happened, has a series of stitches, 6 in all.  They are in a line, and no, the doc didn't pull something funny and stitch his initials into my skin.  I find that I am both happy about that but a little dissappointed at the same time.  While I don't want to have a tag of ownership permanently scarred onto my leg, it would make for a good story.  Oh well.

The actual wound now looks like spongy mountain range.  There are peaks and valleys, and a slope of dried blood crust on the Southern slope.  It's a blood avalanche.  Which is now in the top three metal band names ever (with God Hammer and Murder Church).  The remaining wound bits look like a cross between the crimped edge of a calzone and the tied up part of a roast.  But all pasty white.  Like, really really white.  I also have these blue dots in the knee region.  The dots are a map for the doc to show him where things are in my leg.  A inter human landscape that helps him guide the machines and whatnot through the surgery.  Each dot is a landmark in the joint.  That's neat, I guess.  I would try to figure out what is what if I weren't still swollen like a beachball down there.

The disappointment of my lack of stitches was tempered by the removal of the huge Ace wrap that went from my foot to my thigh.  It has been replaced by a smaller one that is just around my knee.  I have to keep the ridiculous brace on for another week or so, but not all the time.  When sleeping, moving about, yeah, I have to keep it on.  But other than that, as long as I am careful with my leg, I don't have to have it on.  I got signed up for physical therapy.  I have to get in contact with them to set up a time.  I only have to go twice a week for the next six weeks.  And then it's over, end of PT.  Seems pretty quick, but that's cool.  Everything seems to happen slowly, so a quickening might be welcome.

PT is going to be through the hospital, which is nice, at least they are going to be professional.  The crappy part is that I can't drive there.  They aren't going to let me have the keys for at least a month.  I feel like I go a DUI.  I guess I get to be out of the brace and off the crutches in another week or two, depending on PT and how my knee responds to the surgery.  That being said, the surgery was boring.  That is the best thing I heard all day.  You want to have a boring surgery.  You don't want it to be an eventful situation for the doc.  When you are out, nothing odd happens, and the doc reports a pedestrian procedure, that is the best thing ever.  You want to have nothing special about your business. 

The beginning of the end of this ordeal is starting.  Look forward, as the monsters are behind you.

SD

Easter

Today is Easter.  Yay.  Honestly, I don't care for the holiday part of it.  It happens every year, and every year, I care less and less about eggs, bunnies, or that retarded grass stuff that fills baskets.  But I like getting together with the family.  This is usually fun.  There is always going to be someone who is a pompous dick, but that is a family, so who really cares. 

This year, everyone has some issue, and there was the undertones of a pissing contest.  I win.  I have problems with stairs, and doors, and moving.  I had to go with all of my leggy accoutrement on display.  Brace, cold pressure cuff, ace wrap, crutches, the whole nine.  And after the original shock of seeing me, and trying to make me comfortable, everything returned to normal.  I explained my current status a few times and there were both sympathy and mocking.  And it was good.

I generally don't like to be doted over.  I like being able to fend for myself and get what I want when I want it.  I was fairly uncomfortable for a while, not physically, but situationally.  I didn't want people to make a special effort for me, but I had to give in.  There was so much food (aw damn) that it had to be set up in a buffet.  I had to have my aunt make a plate for me while I sat with my leg in another's personal bubble.  Remember, it doesn't bend yet. 

The thing about family? They don't care.  They don't care if you are hobbled, crippled, whatever.  You are going to get some shit for it, but generally, they know the deal.  Everyone has had something stupid happen to them along the line, so they have all been there.  After the initial reaction, war stories are shared.  After dinner, we all sat around, fat on ham, lamb, and other sundry foods, and watched golf on tv.  It was comfortable. 

I was hesitant to go to Easter dinner.  I didn't want to feel like a party favor.  I didn't feel like a party favor.  I felt like a member of a family.  Yes, the stairs were a hazard, but throw rugs are a hazard for me now, so I guess I just have to deal with it.  I managed okay.  I'm back in my recovery zone, plugged into my machine.  No harm done.  I don't know what the hell I was worried about.  Who cares if I'm on crutches, I just have to make sure that I don't shrivel away. 

Everything is going to work out.  I just have to remember to take it one step at a time.  I have to resist the urge to push ahead beyond where I should be.  This isn't an English class, extra credit work is useless in this situation.  Getting out today was a step in the positive direction.  I know in my head that my progress is going to be slow and aggravating, and I know that I am going to get antsy.  I have to remember that small things, like Easter, are going to get me forward faster that the large leap.

Simple steps.

SD

Week/Weak

So it has been a week since the surgery.  Everything seems to still be there, but there are still some things that I would like to be able to do before I consider myself operational (hehe) again. 

I can take the brace off now and flex my leg, try to move it back and forth a bit.  This task is simple, but it is going to take a while before I have a comfortable range of motion.  On Monday I have an appointment to get the ace wrap taken off and, I would assume, the brick of gauze as well.  At that point, I will get my first viewing of the hot mess that my knee has become.  Perhaps the stitches come out as well, perhaps not, that prospect is pretty vague.  I got a call yesterday that confirmed the appointment, and the lady suggested that there might be staples instead of stitches.  I found that amusing.

I don't know what the wound is going to look like.  I am hoping that the doctor decided not to be a funny guy and sew his initials into my leg or some other silly shit like that.  It would make for a good story though.  In the week after the procedure, I have found that the days are going by faster.  I am able to entertain myself enough to pass the hours.  Opening day for baseball hasn't hurt, either.

I have been writing for The Scope, which has been fun.  Everything is light and made up, so I can work on that whenever I want.  This blog has helped, although sometimes I feel as though I need motivation to write here.  Then again, I can get to rambling, so time passes with that too. 

The one thing that I can't wait to do is get this contraption off of me.  I hate it.  It's bulky, heavy, awkward, and even though I completely understand the function of it, I think that it is a bit over the top.  On Monday, I think that the doc will give me a definitive schedule for therapy and eventual removal of the brace.  I want to walk again without crutches or a brace, but that is going to be some time.

The more immediate goal is to be able to take a shower that doesn't involve a sink.  I have to keep the ace wrap and gauze brick on 24/7 and they can't get wet, so that means I have had to clean myself in the sink instead of take an actual shower.  The day that changes will be welcome.  It's not that I am not cleaning myself, there is simply a difference between bathing in a sink and actually taking a real shower.  I never understood how much a meant, on a psychological level, until now.

What is killing me right now is that I don't think that I am going to be able to participate in Easter.  I think that this brace, the lack of ability to get pants over it, and the intermittent cold therapy is going to keep me house ridden for a few more days, until my appointment.

I can't be too mad, I did this to myself.

SD

Douchebag Supernova

As we all know by this point, my schedule is merely a pipe dream.  Any focus to my day is a fantasy concurrent of a once real notion of hours and time.  I live as a cat.  A sweaty, disabled cat with cable and an internet connection.  One of my goals throughout this ordeal is to find productive ways to spend my time.  In that respect, I sleep more than I ever have, get some reading in, and try to keep my working limbs stretched out and in shape.  I watch Sportscenter in the morning, Netflix for some portion of the day, and do my best to keep on a cold therapy regimen for the knee.

But sometimes at night, I have trouble actually getting to sleep.  Last night was one of those nights.  I was mentally ready to go to sleep after The Colbert Report, but my body was still ready to be awake.  I flipped through the channels, and not wanting to see more women's basketball on ESPN, I kept going up the channels.  I found something interesting.  Something so appropriate that I was forced by morbid curiosity and bemused boredom to land on VH1.

VH1 used to be a music channel, and when they played music, they had a show called Pop-Up Video, where they would insert silly bubbles with factoids in them about the band or the video being shown.  VH1 was purchased by MTV, and has subsequently been converted into MTV for Dummies and people who care about Ice-T's wife.  MTV has become famous for showing a long run of programs surrounding the made up lives of strangers forced to live together in the raddest and best lit house on Earth.  From the embryo of The Real World was birthed the apex of everything tanned and douchey: The Jersey Shore.

The Jersey Shore is a whirlwind of loud, obnoxious, steroid fueled, indignity that represents everything that is wrong with this country.  The terrorists will never win so long as these people are still alive.  They, as a whole, are a bounty for ridicule and jokes.  They, as a whole, suck as humans.  They, as a whole, have nary a positive fiber in the entirety of their souls.  They, as a whole, are a skin and blood curdling reminder of why people hate.  In general.  People hate because of the cast of The Jersey Shore.

Why do I bring all of this up? I shall tell you.

Late last night I was sitting up and I saw the perfect confluence of silliness and scumbaggery.  I stared at the channel guide in wonderment as the greatest hour of time wasting the world has ever afforded a human being.  Pop-Up Jersey Shore might have changed my life.  An assault on the eyes and ears, Pop-Up Jersey Shore is a one stop shop for everything inane or covered in horrid tattoos.  From learning about how the show is set up logistically or what some cast member might or might not have pierced, I stumbled upon the greatest piece of televised synergy in the history of the medium.

For two hours, two full episodes, I watched.  I was drawn in by the bubbles, entertained by the idiocy of the people, and felt a vested rooting interest in the citizens whom the cast got into fistfights with.  I stared at my television, mouth agape, while 7 morons with no real sense or literacy level caroused along Seaside Heights New Jersey for the duration of a summer.  I felt my cerebral cortex shrink and my still beating heart yearn for a quick end as these people forced me to long for the end of commercials to witness more of their failings. 

Rarely have I seen more shirtless men or whored up whores yelling at each other with such abandon.  They had no regard for their unique situation, instead, they seemed to want to use the occasion as an attempted springboard for a post Shore career.  One member started a clothing company, but on her first t-shirt (of many, I'm sure) she misspelled the word Filthy.  Apparently the word has more of an impact when the L comes after the H.  I, for one, am proud of my spelling ability, and understand the function of the spell checker function on word processing programs.  J-Woww apparently doesn't.  Not my problem, but an example of their genius.  They have become famous for this crap.  Purely inspirational is the cast, as they have overcome severe learning disabilities to become rich and famous.  And an equal appreciation to VH1 has to be given for the stroke of brilliance to put pop up bubbles in their midst.

I hate the fact that this program block has taken up so much of my time.  Not only watching it, but writing about it later.  It has eaten away at me like a spirit eating bacteria, sucking my will to think out of the festering wound on my leg.  I do not regret it, I can't.  I find that regret is counterproductive.  But, so is watching Pop-Up Jersey Shore.

SD

Sweating like a fat kid

Dear God! I need to figure out how to stop sweating.  My entire life is damp.  No matter what I do, damp damp damp.  I'm pretty sure this is completely the responsibility of pain pills and a reaction to the lack of morphine in my system.  I'm like a junkie.  I have to stay hydrated, but it just makes me damp, as I immediately sweat it out.  I sprung a leak.  I don't know where yet, but it's there somewhere.

I feel gross all the time.

SD

Awake? pt 2. The bruising

I got some serious IV time in while I was at the hospital.  Now I have this crazy ass bruise on my hand that covers the base knuckles on my pinky and ring fingers and half of my middle finger.  It's about the size of a Saltine, but its really dark.  The puncture wound is outside of the bruised part, and it makes my knuckles really white

This isn't a big deal, its just something that has been fixating me for the last few days.

SD

Awake?

Small victories are going to keep me going.  I was able to change clothes yesterday and actually wash myself today.  It doesn't seem like those acts should be that big of a deal, however, when you have to keep your entire leg dry and immobile, they become more important.  I can't seem to stop sweating though, but I am sure that the work that my body is putting into healing, not to mention the heavy wrap and brace on my leg, is making me perspire a lot more than I rightfully should. 

I was able to get to my desktop computer, which is where I am writing this from, and get close enough to actually use the keyboard.  Small victories.  Now I have to get back into a school mode.  Apparently I have a 15 page paper due soon, and now I am rather behind on that.  My professor is cool, though, so I should be able to get some leniency. 

I have been in and out of states of awareness over the last few days.  They stuck a morphine drip into the front of my hip and that was doing a number on my sleep patterns.  That ran out yesterday, though, and I had to take it out.  To keep it in place, the nurses, in their infinite wisdom, locked the drip in place with enough tape to keep an engine together.  They shaved that particular area, but the tape eluded the borders of the shaved zone and stuck itself to the normal skin/hair/whatever.  Not fun. 

Now I am awake.  Now I am on a fairly regular schedule for drugs and cold compression therapy.  Now I have to deal with the crushing boredom that comes with this particular territory.  I am trying to avoid the hardcore pain killers as much as I can, but this thing hurts, and the bulkiness of the wrap is annoying.  To ease my life, especially when going to sleep, I wonder how a Percocet will work for me.  I am wary though, as I know how much I liked them a few years ago, and I think that I will like them just the same now.

I guess I will sit here and sweat.

SD