Pain Pain Go Away

I find myself apologising again, I haven't been blogging much lately. I have been a little sad :( So I apologise if the following is a little blunt, honest and negative but hey, why hide what is only human. With the promise of getting my wedding photos today I am feeling positive enough to actually try a little harder at being normal. 

My bag packed ready for hospital along with my brace.

A week ago today I had surgery to repair my medial collateral ligament in my right knee and boy did I have no idea of what I was in for. I had only seen the surgeon for a quick 15 minute diagnosis prior to seeing him in surgery and although I knew I would be off work for a week, I thought recovery would be a little easier! I arrived at Hobart Private Hospital with Alex at 7.30am on Wednesday 6 March 2013. We waited for over an hour in one waiting room and started to get a little concerned that they had taken everyone who had arrived before us and some who had arrived after us but not us. Neither of us are morning people so this was a tad annoying. Finally they called my name, I paid and off we went to level four, on level four we waited in another waiting room, I selected the items I wanted for tea that night and breakfast the next day. A nurse asked me a bunch of questions and took my pulse and blood pressure. We waited some more. I wasn't allowed to eat, drink or apply deodorant that day so I was getting very tired of this waiting game, I felt smelly, yucky and hungry and Alex hadn't eaten either so he was getting a little annoyed. I was also beginning to get nervous. My name was called and off we went into another room, I was given a bed and a robe, things were beginning to get real. Mum visited us because Dad had been admitted that morning as well. A young teenage boy came in with his mum and was holding back tears, he was so scared. They were going to send him in before me, I didn't mind, his fear made me start to get very scared. Scared of waking up from antiseptic in pain, scared of vomiting from antiseptic, scared of everything. I just wanted them to hurry up and take me and get it over with, I may have even had a little cry. Finally the anaesthetist spoke to me and soon after I was off to theatre. We had waited five long nervous hours. I remember laying in the operating room, looking around, a young lady talking to me about drinking and hangovers, the anaesthetist scoffing down some biscuits (god I wanted one of those biscuits), next thing I was drifting off thinking 'wait I want to finish this conversation'.

Me in my robe waiting on my bed, shitting myself on the inside.

An hour later I woke up in recovery, I immediately pulled the oxygen mask off my face, I slowly took everything in, looking around me at the other people recovering, working out that I was no longer in surgery, working out where my legs were. It took me a long time to work out if my knee was sore, my back and hips were killing me and my left leg was bent, I remember I didn't leave it like that before surgery, they must have bent it for me, that freaked me out. Then for some stupid reason I began to cry, the young male nurse asked if I was okay and then gave me pain killers through my drip and told me I have to tell him if something is wrong. I told him I couldn't help it I didn't know what was wrong and that I was just overwhelmed, he told me that the anaesthetic does that to people.  I was just glad it didn't make me vomit.

 My poor knee, I also hate having drips in my hand.

An hour later I was wheeled down to my room and Alex was waiting for me, I cried again. I cried a lot that day. Mum visited me again with flowers and pyjamas, I was a bit of a grumpy bum though and wasn't very grateful. My brother, sister-in-law and nephew visited me too, that was nice, it was nice to know people cared about me so much. Alex and mum both bought me chocolate, yay. I was sharing a room which didn't bother me too much, we were both recovering from surgery on our knees so could relate to each other but it did mean I didn't get much sleep that night. The nurse took my pulse and blood pressure every hour, my pulse was around 120, I was totally jogging on the inside. They put this down to anxiety. 

My bandage being redone on Friday.

The hospital food was pretty good. 

I wasn't allowed to get up until the next day which meant I had to pee in a pan, I had never done this before and with one leg out of action I had no idea how I was going to raise my body up to even get on the bloody pan, if only I was a man.  But I managed, it was horribly terrible but I survived. I drink so much water that I wee weed about six times over the course of one afternoon and one night. It didn't help that at least four of my nurses were all girls I had gone to school with, great I had to pee in a pan with the help of people I went to school with, could it get any more embarrassing. But I must say they were all so professional and lovely and made me feel very comfortable.

Our second more successful attempt at
stopping the bandage from getting wet.

The next day I went home, I received more flowers, yay! The last week has been a blur, I had to get my bandage redone at hospital as it became too wet in the shower, I have been on and off crutches and taking pain killers which have played havoc with my digestive system. Sleeping has sometimes been difficult and very uncomfortable. I was hoping to feel a lot better by now but things haven't improved much lately, the muscle in my leg hurts a lot and I still can't walk very much at all. I was told I probably wouldn't need my crutches after Monday but it's Wednesday and I still feel better with just one. I have to wear my brace for the next six to eight weeks. I am scared of physio, I know that it is going to hurt like buggery. I am supposed to go back to work tomorrow after I get the okay from my surgeon. I can't wait to see him and get some information about what is going on. I feel a little bit like I am failing as I am still using the crutches. I worry that maybe something is wrong or I haven't looked after it properly. I just did not anticipate that it would be this painful for this long.  Right now I don't feel emotionally strong enough to get through much else but I have to try to stay positive and remember that it will get better. 

Okay so I know that last paragraph is unbelievably negative and sad and I know there are plenty of other people in the world suffering a lot worse than I am, but this is just how I have felt of late. Some minutes I feel fantastic and others I just want to cry. I imagine it will be like that for a while. Talk soon.