elfinblaze (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
elfinblaze) wrote2010-02-13 04:39 pm
elfinblaze) wrote2010-02-13 04:39 pm
Entry tags:
Home from hospital!
Home from hospital.
I went in at noon yesterday with my mother and my sister. I'm so glad they were there for as long as possible because I was a nervous wreck and terrified. I knew the surgery would involve cutting open the inside of my wrist to get at the bones; not exactly the most reassuring prospect. About 4pm I had to leave my family behind to get wheeled in to the anaesthetic room and I couldn't stop crying. I felt so alone and so scared. There was a nice nurse called Margaret though, and she was good about it. The anesthetists even had to give me something to calm me down before they gave me the anaesthetic.
I don't even remember going to sleep and I only vaguely remember waking up in Recovery. That was about 6pm, my arm was in an upright sling beside the bed, securely plastered up again, and from what I could see, swollen and all yellow and purple. My mother and sister were there to join me in the ward until 8pm, but really, I was half-asleep still. Soooo glad they were there though. *clings to her family*
Not that I cared much when I was half-asleep, but I remember thanking my sister profusely when she left. I also remember my mother asking one of the doctors whether I would "beep" at airports now (with the metal plate and screws in my arm). He said, "possibly."
It stormed overnight. The thunder woke me up but it also made me smile. The bed was warm and comfortable and it was pouring and howling all around, outside. It was glorious! I also got woken up by nurses every 2 hours or so, checking pulse, blood-pressure, and temperature. Also got woken up by my room-mates, whenever they had to go to the toilet.
By 5am I was wide awake though. Blame it on my usual waking time. No pain from my left arm at that stage, but the catheter in my right arm throbbed. It still does. I DO NOT LIKE NEEDLES! One anaethetist gave me a jokingly reproachful look when I told him that. Needle freak.
6am the lights came on again. I was in a four-bed room. The bed beside me was empty; across from me were a frail old lady called Joan, and a middle-aged Italian lady called Maria. They were both nice, peaceful people. Joan got wheeled out to rehab first. Maria and I had to sit around waiting until early afternoon to find out what was happening to us. Maria's husband was nice enough to cut my meat for me at lunch time. I'm actually very good one-handed, but not that good.
My mother picked me up and took me home after a final dosage of antibiotics. Got strong painkillers on the way home because although my left arm is bearable now, occasionally, and when I move my fingers, I get a burning feeling across the inside of my arm. The outside still throbs too. Can I recommend never breaking anything? It really hurts. Well, I've had periods that hurt more, but that's probably not a reliable measure for everyone., and it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt now.
I still have gravel rash on my right hand, a skinned right elbow, bruised vein from the catheter, and a giant black bruise I just discovered on my left hip. I think the painkillers were a good investment.
Now I'm home at least, which is several steps up from where I was yesterday (scared, alone, starving, and in pain).
I have no idea when I'm going back to work yet; the main problem would be answering the phone and writing at the same time. I can type one-handed, it just takes longer, and I'm fairly skilled with my right hand alone, plus I can always pinch things between my fingers on the left hand just to hold them...
I don't know. We'll see, I guess.
I went in at noon yesterday with my mother and my sister. I'm so glad they were there for as long as possible because I was a nervous wreck and terrified. I knew the surgery would involve cutting open the inside of my wrist to get at the bones; not exactly the most reassuring prospect. About 4pm I had to leave my family behind to get wheeled in to the anaesthetic room and I couldn't stop crying. I felt so alone and so scared. There was a nice nurse called Margaret though, and she was good about it. The anesthetists even had to give me something to calm me down before they gave me the anaesthetic.
I don't even remember going to sleep and I only vaguely remember waking up in Recovery. That was about 6pm, my arm was in an upright sling beside the bed, securely plastered up again, and from what I could see, swollen and all yellow and purple. My mother and sister were there to join me in the ward until 8pm, but really, I was half-asleep still. Soooo glad they were there though. *clings to her family*
Not that I cared much when I was half-asleep, but I remember thanking my sister profusely when she left. I also remember my mother asking one of the doctors whether I would "beep" at airports now (with the metal plate and screws in my arm). He said, "possibly."
It stormed overnight. The thunder woke me up but it also made me smile. The bed was warm and comfortable and it was pouring and howling all around, outside. It was glorious! I also got woken up by nurses every 2 hours or so, checking pulse, blood-pressure, and temperature. Also got woken up by my room-mates, whenever they had to go to the toilet.
By 5am I was wide awake though. Blame it on my usual waking time. No pain from my left arm at that stage, but the catheter in my right arm throbbed. It still does. I DO NOT LIKE NEEDLES! One anaethetist gave me a jokingly reproachful look when I told him that. Needle freak.
6am the lights came on again. I was in a four-bed room. The bed beside me was empty; across from me were a frail old lady called Joan, and a middle-aged Italian lady called Maria. They were both nice, peaceful people. Joan got wheeled out to rehab first. Maria and I had to sit around waiting until early afternoon to find out what was happening to us. Maria's husband was nice enough to cut my meat for me at lunch time. I'm actually very good one-handed, but not that good.
My mother picked me up and took me home after a final dosage of antibiotics. Got strong painkillers on the way home because although my left arm is bearable now, occasionally, and when I move my fingers, I get a burning feeling across the inside of my arm. The outside still throbs too. Can I recommend never breaking anything? It really hurts. Well, I've had periods that hurt more, but that's probably not a reliable measure for everyone., and it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt now.
I still have gravel rash on my right hand, a skinned right elbow, bruised vein from the catheter, and a giant black bruise I just discovered on my left hip. I think the painkillers were a good investment.
Now I'm home at least, which is several steps up from where I was yesterday (scared, alone, starving, and in pain).
I have no idea when I'm going back to work yet; the main problem would be answering the phone and writing at the same time. I can type one-handed, it just takes longer, and I'm fairly skilled with my right hand alone, plus I can always pinch things between my fingers on the left hand just to hold them...
I don't know. We'll see, I guess.