I had knee surgery on Monday. I had a torn medial mensicus on my left knee (in my left knee?) which was getting caught in the joint and making my leg buckle and all sorts of nasty things. It was hurting and stupid and I went to the surgeon who had replaced my parents' knees and even had operated on my dad back in the 70s, and he manipulated my knee, took an x-ray, and that was that. Scheduled me right then.
Day surgery, arthroscopic, a ten minute procedure. But general anesthesia.
General Anesthesia is one of those military men I don't get along with. (I guess Major Surgery would be another?). I started worrying right away. I've had several surgeries, including three c-sections with epidurals. Those were fine (except the itching!! Gah!!). But the general anesthesia gets me. I throw up, for one thing, which is never pleasant. More than that, though, when I come out of it, I tend to be choking and screaming, which is not pleasant for me or anyone else who happens to be there. It's terrible. People are yelling at me and holding me down and it's horrible.
So I got brave and Monday morning I told the anesthesiologist that I was a mess. We talked about previous surgeries and experiences and she said that because she knew that had happened to me before, she could control that this time. Basically, sedate the hell out of me.
"Now, you'll be sleepier than you normally would be after this sort of surgery," she warned.
Like I care about sleepy. So I won't report in at my job as a crane operator that evening.
So they gave me that first cocktail--when I had my appendectomy, the nurse leaned in as she injected my IV with that stuff and said, "this is the best 5 minutes of your day" in my ear--and wheeled me into the OR, and it's so weird. They wanted me to go from the bed I was in to the table, and I remember starting that process but then, you know, that's it. I don't know if I fell on the floor or if I made it to the table or anything. My brain stopped recording about the time I scooted halfway off the bed. So weird.
And then I woke up. Not screaming. Not gagging. Nothing. I opened my eyes. No one was yelling at me or holding me down. I just woke up.
And then promptly started to cry because it was so much better. Or probably because of whatever they'd sedated me with. But it felt like I was crying because of relief.
The surgeon had found the tear, but also another tear in my lateral meniscus. It was a mess in there. Cleaned it up.
So I went to school the next day for inservice, but then got violently ill Tuesday night (totally unrelated to the surgery or drugs I was on, more like a terrible GI bug or food poisoning) and decided to rest on Wednesday. I'm making it pretty well now that it's three days out. I'm going to my thyroid doctor tomorrow for my regularly scheduled annual blood draw, and then probably up to school to help my new partner teacher with the little details. For which I will be sitting down I am sure.
School starts Tuesday and I think it'll be ok. I hope the surgery does what it's supposed to do. Because I'm sure my right knee will be jealous soon enough and want fancy stitches too.