Foot Long

(Re-post from welve years ago. I went through all this and within months my foot started hurting again and it has never stopped. My present podiatrist says it is a nerve stump left over from the surgery that hurts. I'm stumped as to why that would happen. The doctors just keeps offering me a shot of cortisone. Last time he did that, I kicked him in the chest. Not on purpose, it hurt and was reflexes.)

Sunday, April 20, 2008

 

Foot Surgery 

I tend to get nervous before flying or surgery, Wednesday morning was no different. I awoke at four thirty in the morning so that I would be on time for my five thirty appointment at the hospital. After showering, shaving and making sure I was totally ready, Mark and I got in the car and headed for Holy Cross Hospital. Mark, as usual, made me nuts with his driving. Even so, I sat there like a good boy and said nothing, while Mark made his way up Federal Highway towards the hospital at a snails pace. We were in sight of the hospital when I realized I had forgotten all the paperwork needed to be admitted for surgery. "God Damn It, Turn Around!" I yelled, "I forgot the paperwork, turn around!". With just ten minutes to spare, Mark started to lazily drift over to the left lane in preparation of turning around. "Will you hurry up!", I continued to shout, "My grandmother can walk faster than you drive.". The truth is, I found out that I really didn't need to go back and get the paperwork, all the information is in the hospital computer. It was just my nerves getting to me. Though even if I wasn't getting surgery, Marks driving still would make me nuts.

I have to say, the foot surgery went just fine. Everything went smoothly, there was not one problem from admitting, to my trip out to the car in the wheel chair after surgery. The nurses were great, my surgeon was attentive and explained everything, and the anesthesiologist was pleasant and did a perfect job. And despite my fear of nuns, Sister Mary Nohabit, who wanted to pray with me in pre-op, even smiled and blessed me after I snarled "No, go away." at her.

My first twenty four hours after the surgery are a little foggy, because I was high on Oxycodone or Percocet as it is known. I was so loopy that I don't even remember talking to people on the phone, and when my tenant came over with toys for the cats I thought they were for me. You have to admit, if you were high on a class II narcotic, you might think a cat toy rolling across the floor with strobe lights in it was really cool too.