The Final Surgery!

Monday was the day of the final surgery. They removed the long screw which was holding my two leg bones together as well as holding my ligament in place.

Just a reminder- the super long screw that goes from the outside of the small bone (fibula) through the middle of the tibia is the one they removed.

I had to be at the hospital at 5:30 a.m. because I was my doctor's first case. It is important to tell you right here that every single person who works at that hospital - including both my parents - are complete weirdos. Some in a good way, some in a bad way.

I checked in with ease and was brought to the back where they demanded I pee in a cup. This is hard when you haven't been allowed to eat or drink for awhile. Plus, at least for girls, peeing in a cup is difficult no matter how much you have to go. Yeah, I said that. Let that sink in for a minute.

I then gave a cup with a tiny amount of my pee in it to a very grouchy nurse. Now that I think about it, maybe she's so grumpy because she has to carry people's pee around all day. I got a room in which to sit and then the grumpy nurse ordered me to get naked.

They give you two gowns- one with a back opening and one with a front opening, so you can avoid the very situation that I had captured on film many years ago.

**Misty eyed flashback time**
Many years ago (MANY) I was part of a hospital video that was (and might still be) shown to children who were going into surgery. My role in this video was simple. I was to be sitting with my parents, the "doctor" would come over and take me by the hand, and we would walk toward the double doors. Halfway there I was to turn back to my parents, smile and wave at them, and then keep walking. I want to mention that I was very jealous of my friend Bobby, who got to be the kid on a stretcher. Anyway, I could not grasp the concept of turning a particular direction. We had to do multiple takes because I kept flashing my undies at the camera when I turned back to wave the wrong way.
**Misty eyed return to present day**

So it upsets me deeply that you actually have to remove your undies when going into surgery for your ankle. I get why I have to take off the bra- If my heart stopped they want to be able to zap me and I want them to do that too. But if something goes so wrong with the ankle surgery that they need access to my hoo-ha I'm suing.

So then a parade of people I've never met came into the room. A guy who was going to be in the surgery but wasn't my doctor came in, asked me questions the other nurse had already asked ("Any chance you could be pregnant?" Then, to my mother, "Sorry, I have to ask.") Apparently I look like a teenager when in hospital gowns.

And then the anesthesiology team. The nurse was very nice. She told me all about how they were going to do whatever. Then the actual doctor came in. I am a little surprised that I even went along with this whole thing, especially after he stopped the normal lady from talking about the procedure to tell me he was going to give me "the Michael Jackson cocktail." Insert his smug look. My mother looked horrified. I said, "You probably shouldn't make a joke about a dead guy until I wake up from this." Then he went on a tangent about how he knows some of the people who testified (I did not fawn "Ohhh you're so important!" as I believe the intention was) and how no cardiologist can know anything about what he does for a living. He left the room and the nurse came back and apologized for him.

Then the nurse described how they were going to put a mask on me and a tube in my throat and... STOP! I had been told that this would just be IV sedation and I wouldn't need all that, I told her.

"Oh. I guess we can do that," she said.

Glad I was there. (WTF)

This is a really terrible photo of my surgeon's initials on my bad leg. Maybe it's so he doesn't forget which leg he's cutting into.

Anyway, the falling asleep was much more pleasant this time. They gave me some happy drugs and I lifted up the little curtain to watch them orange my leg until someone (I'm told it was the surgeon) scolded me. Then I slept until I woke up to the crazy anesthesiologist sitting next to me and telling me to make sure my dad knew he did a good job. He also asked if I had lied about ever taking Zoloft because I have an unnatural resistance to anti-anxiety medication. I did not have the heart to tell him I'm probably just more anxious than the normal person.

I woke up to stabby ankle pain at the actual site but that's all. I wasn't nauseous!

My leg all bandaged

I wasn't allowed to shower for a few days, but when I did take the bandage off I was surprised by how big the new incision was and that I could plainly feel long sutures sticking out of my leg.

They cut right over the old incision, which was nice, but you can see that the new incision is about half the length of the old one. The yellow residue is from the pad they had over the sutures.

In this really odd and very dramatic view you can see one of the stitches sticking up like rabbit ears.

I was told I could leave it uncovered but with the stitches sticking up like that I felt like they might get caught on my pants or stick to the inside of the boot. Also, touching them hurts, so I want them to be stable. I have two big band-aids over them now. I return to the doctor Tuesday to get the stitches out. 

I'm now allowed to bear as much weight as I can tolerate but it's scary. I don't want to do it too much without the boot because my ankle isn't strong anymore and rolling it would suck big-time. I have taken a few tiny tiny steps with almost all my weight on it. It doesn't hurt from the weight so much as it's uncomfortable and terrifying. Also, I still can't flex my ankle to ten degrees, which is the magic walking number. PT tomorrow, I'll let you know how it goes!