I was feeling REALLY messed up yesterday. A bad mixture/cocktail/pharmaceutica
l blend if you will. One of those drugs sent me into a series of weird moments with my cool pain doctor saying 'Bren! Bren! Can you open your eyes for a minute?!' commands.
I was in a weird coma-bored-to-tears-ish- 'I can hear you but I cannot reply' chapter of my stay. And I was stuck in it from 8:00 pm on Tuesday through yesterday (Thursday) around 2:00 pm.
I was sleeping but not sleeping. It was weird and NOT fun. My asking for help in between digging through the mental cotton candy fog was scary.
And in the end, boom: "the surgery site seems to have gotten infected and we have to stop treatment and send you home until it heals". What?!
"Then we should bring you in and start again". Huh?!
Ahem, sorry. So we quietly went home with loads of ice packs and some soft tears.
I feel fragile and messed with.
My main pain doctor (we will call him Old Guy) was warned by the younger pain doctor (Senior Cool) for almost two days that the surgery site looked infected and irritated. 'No no, lets keep up with the desensitization exercises and see if we can't make some progress before performing a new surgery'. Senior Cool would clench his teeth and look at us with sad eyes.
He was mad.
We were mad.
I was wrung out.
There was nothing he could do w/out Old Guy's go-ahead. I get it. The hierarchy sucked on my side. But we couldn't make Old Guy do anything, right? What a bummer that my main pain doctor lady was on a much needed weekend trip with her daughter. She would not have let this happen. No way.
Now I feel like I have to heal up to be beaten down again. the doctors will have a collective pow wow and decide when to bring me in next for treatment. I am hopeful that will be when I am not already in a nerve flare. Things are really tough then on all of us. My veins don't cooperate with the IV's, the sheets hurt, the lights hurt, the food...well, you already know that hospital food kinds 'hurts' (ick).
So unfortunately I am home and feeling a bit worse for wear from when I came in. But I am still happy to be home. I am snarkier though, so look out! : )
But I feel like a bit of a disease-riddled criminal! I was unpacking my little hospital caddy and noticed that I had brought home 2 metal spoons. Eeks!
See, sometimes the cafeteria person would deliver my jello and forget the spoon (or even worse, it would be a dirty spoon!!!), so I had a couple of spoons on hand just in case, right? Well. I guess I brought them home accidentally. I feel awful! Am I headed to spoon jail? Hee Hee.
I look like I got in a knife fight though from the bandage on the front of my neck with the massive jugular IV welts, and the back of my neck with the infected oozy epidural catheter. Yummy.
And heck, i got the back of my neck waxed for free, FOUR times in 24 hours! Woohoo!
The reasoning behind the catheter was to numb my arms entirely. Then the phys therapy doc would come and tell me to put my hands in dry rice and beans to get my hands to mellow out. I would squeeze play dough and pick up beads and rocks. Seems simple, but I needed to learn to do it when it didn't hurt (while numb) so I could tell myself that I could do it later, with the daily constant pain.
But since only my left hand was getting coverage from the drugs and my muuuuch worse right hand was getting nothing, it stunk!
Therapy on one hand while the right hand festered with swelling and lesions was a bear. Almost an insult to my right hand. My leftie was saying, 'ha ha, look what I can do!' The drugs would also ultimately treat the pain flare, even if only for the time I was in the hospital. It could have potentially kicked down the wall of flare for a few days or a week. So I went for it. The things you do you when desperate I guess?
Anyway, I wanted to thank you all for the support and for the laughs while I was in the joint. I love you and lean on you all so much at times. And you let me. Thank you!!!
Now what do I do about those spoons? Mail them? : )