Greetings from Neuromaville

Yesterday I found myself strapped to a table…both arms stretched out and needles being inserted into my body for the 5th or 6th time in 3 days. The last year as been a painful one for my left foot, a nerve became inflamed, and this yesterday it was removed. To quote the Doc. “It was pretty pissed off.” The nerve had attached itself to the metatarsals, and tucked itself down into the ball of my foot.

Some thoughts going in: My wife and kids dropped me off ay 7:00 a.m. for the pre-op stuff. She had to leave, and rather than have her come back and wait around, it seemed to me that she should go home or out and wait for the call to pick me up.
Comfort level: 8

Gowning up: I was shuttled back to a small room where 2 nurses descended on me like 2 bees on a flower. One was asking me questions at a fever pitch while the other was taking my B.P. the brought in a glucometer to check my sugar level since my blood work turned u a red flag earlier on in the week. a quick prick, and my blood was in range…sort of, it was a little high, but down 50 points from two days before. Important note to self: I probably shouldn’t have eaten that cookie dough in the freezer before I had my blood drawn.
Comfort level: 7

Then came the time for the gown. Yep those open back lovely pseudo pieces of clothing that let it all hang out. As little Velcro, or side tie or something would go along way.
Comfort Level 5, Embarrassment Level: 7, and I’m freezing my butt off.

Why are you asking me?: before surgery I was asked maybe 6 times “What’s your name?” And “why are you here today?” I even had to initial the foot that the doc was going to cut. Come on here. This guy has been seeing me for a year; you think that he you’d rely on notes…he’d just saw me the day before. My relief came when I asked “do I have to assist as well, or is that base covered?” probably not the best thing to say to the nurse that was walking me to the operating room.
Comfort level: still 5 but dropping

Under the knife: I got into the operating room, and laid down on the gurney. Both my arms were strapped down straight out from my shoulders. Soon the anesthesiologist would start his work. Another needle into my wrist, and a BP cuff on my right arm I was immobilized. I didn’t freak out, but I became overwhelmed with emotion. I couldn’t stop thinking about my wife and kids. My eyes started to tear up when I felt the cool saline enter my arm. A few seconds later…without warning…I woke up
Comfort level: hard to say. I think I was unconscious.

It felt like an out of body experience. I really couldn’t move…but I really didn’t want to. They probably knew that I was awake. It sounded like they were stitching me up. I overheard the conversation about “Dancing with the Stars” the night before, I was thinking to myself…hello!!! “Please concentrate on the guy on the table.” A few minutes later the Anesthesiologist came into view and said something to the effect. There wrapping you up.

My Left Foot: somehow I was transferred to a rolling chair and moved to recovery. There I was piled high with those warm hospital blankets. It was then I got a good look at my foot. This thing wrapped with 3 inches of gauze and ace bandages. It looks awkward, and feels the same. I could walk on the heel they told me, but no flat footed.
Pain level: 5 I still had plenty of anesthetic pumped into my foot.

Later on: I made it through the day and night pretty well. This morning when I woke up, it felt like someone had cut a hole in my foot. I guess that’s good considering that someone “did” cut a hole in my foot. It was hard to get going this morning with the pain, but after a few steps around the house, I’ve settled into a technique of walking with and without crutches.
Pain level 7. That’s what the Vicoden is for.

Life goes on: My wife went back to work; I made lunches, and will need to get the kids off to school. I’ll take some time this morning to lie down and practice guitar. Hey it’s that or look for re-runs of the Ricki Lake Show.
Back to normal level: 8