Give Yourself a Hand - Part Two
When I wake up, I'm groggy, of course, propped up in a bed in the recovery area. My hand is strapped into a big foam cushion and I can see a bandage over my palm and covering my entire finger except for the tip.
The nurses check on me, bring me apple juice and bring Dave back to see me. He's got my glasses, and having them on makes me feel so much better. The doctor comes in too, and tells me, that the surgery went well, and that it was a Giant Cell Tumor. Good news.
By this point, I'm fully conscious, and starting to feel uncomfortable. I ask for some pain meds, deciding that I'd rather not know how badly it's going to feel right now. Perc0c3t, here I come! After that, I drift around for a bit, mildly nauseous, eventually I eat a few bites of a banana muffin. Then decide that was a bad idea. I ask the nurse for something for the nausea, and the post-anethesia nausea gets a dose of Z0fran, which makes me even sleepier. However, in time, I eat some melba toast and cold water and start to feel myself.
Dave and I head home, and I settle in on the couch. Blanket, cat and 4 episodes of The West Wing later, the kids are home, and the next stage begins. As soon as the Perc0s3t wears off, I decide that it's not a feeling I enjoy and take Tylenol for the rest of the day. I figure better to have mild pain, and no nausea.
Wednesday comes, and Dave helps get the kids to school, my parents and neighbors help me out with the house and the kids. We figure out a routine, and day by day, things are better and better.
I'll be in the bandage for nine days. Nine days in January. And guess what, those days are going to be COLD! So, luckily, Dave has a nice collection of cast-off ski gloves and mittens that I can wear on my bandaged hand. At least there is that.
Sleeping is a chore - I have to wear the foam support - so, I can sleep one side, with the whole contraption propped up, or on my back, with my hand, stuck upright, rather like a stick. Either way, my hand goes numb at some point and I wake up. It's also all too bulky to fit under the covers with me, so I have to drape a blanket over my upper half to stay warm.
Still, there are worse things, I know, and before I know it, nine days have passed and I'm heading back to the doctor.
The nurses check on me, bring me apple juice and bring Dave back to see me. He's got my glasses, and having them on makes me feel so much better. The doctor comes in too, and tells me, that the surgery went well, and that it was a Giant Cell Tumor. Good news.
By this point, I'm fully conscious, and starting to feel uncomfortable. I ask for some pain meds, deciding that I'd rather not know how badly it's going to feel right now. Perc0c3t, here I come! After that, I drift around for a bit, mildly nauseous, eventually I eat a few bites of a banana muffin. Then decide that was a bad idea. I ask the nurse for something for the nausea, and the post-anethesia nausea gets a dose of Z0fran, which makes me even sleepier. However, in time, I eat some melba toast and cold water and start to feel myself.
Dave and I head home, and I settle in on the couch. Blanket, cat and 4 episodes of The West Wing later, the kids are home, and the next stage begins. As soon as the Perc0s3t wears off, I decide that it's not a feeling I enjoy and take Tylenol for the rest of the day. I figure better to have mild pain, and no nausea.
Wednesday comes, and Dave helps get the kids to school, my parents and neighbors help me out with the house and the kids. We figure out a routine, and day by day, things are better and better.
I'll be in the bandage for nine days. Nine days in January. And guess what, those days are going to be COLD! So, luckily, Dave has a nice collection of cast-off ski gloves and mittens that I can wear on my bandaged hand. At least there is that.
Sleeping is a chore - I have to wear the foam support - so, I can sleep one side, with the whole contraption propped up, or on my back, with my hand, stuck upright, rather like a stick. Either way, my hand goes numb at some point and I wake up. It's also all too bulky to fit under the covers with me, so I have to drape a blanket over my upper half to stay warm.
Still, there are worse things, I know, and before I know it, nine days have passed and I'm heading back to the doctor.
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