Tomorrow is my surgery. Hopefully everything will go well and my shoulder will be fixed. I’m hopeful that fixed = forever. I don’t want to do this again in 15 years.
PB will be taking me to the hospital. While waiting, he gets to run a web meeting. He’s staying at my house until I once again take care of myself.
I’m nervous about the surgery, I’m worried about the pain. I don’t remember it being that bad, but then again it was a.) in 1994 and b.) when I was 18.
Mostly what I’m worried about is the big immobilizer I have to wear. I won’t be able to even use my left hand, so I’ll be one-armed while I wear it. Which, I’m not sure for how long that will be. Web research says 2-4 weeks.
OK, I’m not actually concerned about the immobilizer itself, except that is black and the very best material for attracting dog hair. I’m worried about not being able to do things for myself. I’m big on my independence. Having to rely on others gets to me. I know. I’ve been through this. I’ve burst into tears because I had to call someone to go to the store and buy milk for me.
I have a great support system and I know people are more than willing to help me. I know that.
PB and I have talked about this; he knows about the fierce independent streak. I don’t want to get mad at him and lash out because I’m frustrated, but I’m afraid I will at some point. And that’s not fair to him at all; he’s going to be the one taking care of me the most. Well, plus, really not cool to lash out a people anyway.
I discussed it with Workkaren. Her response? “I understand, but you’ll just have to get over it.”
I’ll do my best.
In other news, big breakthrough last night. Orion tried to give PB a head butt. Which means he no longer hates him. Good news, that.
The surgery went well, according to the doctor. Everything is back where it should be. The nerve block was fun. Or funny. It’s rather odd to be looking at your hand and not be able to feel it or control it.
When the nerve block wears off? Not fun.
I spent Wednesday and Thursday in a fog, sleeping much of those days. Also, my AC broke and it took them two days to fix it. It was hot. I’d had surgery and I couldn’t shower. I also wasn’t supposed to take the sling off, but they’d put it on me with no shirt underneath.
It’s more comfortable over a shirt, trust me.
Anyway, now I’m back at work. I’d rather not be, but I don’t want to take the time off.
See, (and I don’t recall this from the last time I had this surgery) I am in pain. Constant pain. It can be abated, but it doesn’t go away. During the day I’m just taking advil/aleve so that I can function; I’m saving the harder painkillers for night.
Because I still have to sleep sitting up. Which doesn’t make sleeping easy. So, not only am I in pain, I’m tired. I know in the end I won’t feel this way, but right now I’m regretting having had the surgery. Sure, I was in pain then too, but it was much less. And I could do things like, oh, hey, cut my meat at dinner.
Saturday, a friend of mine replaced my brake pads and rotors . When I was headed over, I got a text from his wife (a really good friend of mine) that said, “Come to the side door. We have chicken.”
I’m still laughing about that.
(Was good chicken.)
There was also a bit of excitement while I was over there re: high blood pressure late in pregnancy. All is ok.
It turned out that they’d sold me the wrong brake pads. Well, actually, much to the confusion of the guys at Advance Auto, the part was supposed to be the right part. I remembered that the box had been open and was marked as a “Return-new” so I made them bring out another box just to make sure the right parts were in the right box. Turned out that the pads in the box I was sold were not actually the pads that were supposed to be in that box.
Sunday morning TRgirl took me grocery shopping. Randy was working, so she had Monkey and Spiderman with her. Monkey wanted me to push the cart; can’t do it right now.
While we were shopping, I asked him if it was OK if PB came to his birthday party on Saturday. He said, “Yes. Just PB.” The rest of us will go out for beer, I guess.
They came back to the house so that she could help me make the beds (also difficult with one hand). We left Monkey downstairs with Chocolate Cheerios and Dora. TRgirl brought Spiderman into my bedroom, looked around, grabbed a pillow, put it in a laundry basket, and added the kid. Baby in a basket!
(I’d like to point out that my sister is an excellent mother, and it’s not like there are a whole lot of baby-containment options in my house. Still, it made me laugh.)
This weekend Bud and the Sister-in-Law (who is still in need of a nickname) came down for Monkey’s 3rd birthday party* and also to meet Spiderman. They came in Friday night. Saturday morning, well, I had to have the Sister-in-Law wrap Monkey’s present because I don’t yet have enough range of motion in my arm and PB is just not so good at that. I had Bud carry in my new vacuum cleaner. He put it together later that afternoon. (I was overly excited about this vacuum. With good cause, it seems. Picking up a lot more than my old vacuum.)
The party was Saturday afternoon. Luckily, the rain held out until the evening.
Highlights from the party:
No grill flare-ups, unlike last year, when my firefighter Brother-in-Law left the grill unattended.
Spiderman Cake! (Tasted like marble cake.)
Not sure what attracted him to it, but Monkey pulled our gift out of the pile first.
Good thing. He completely lost interest in opening his gifts halfway through.
When to told that a gift was from Goose he looked around confused, as if he had no idea who this uncle was. (Goose needs to visit, apparently.)
We went out to dinner that night then headed home to play spades and watch Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog. One of us is not a fan.
They headed home the next day. That evening, I went over to visit the boys and mom and dad. I walked in, Monkey looked at me and said, “Where’s Jason?” Sorry kid, just boring ol’ me.
*Parents came too, they just stayed with TRgirl and Randy.
