So Friday 11th October is going to be the BIG day! I didn't sleep a wink on Thursday night excitement and worry all going around in my head. My bag is packed, my parents are here to look after the kids and do the school run. I am as ready as I will ever be! The alarm on my phone breaks the silence of the night at 5:15am. There is no time to hit the snooze button this morning and snatch another 5 minutes in the warmth and comfort of my own bed. We are up and at 'em. Washed and ready to go. I creep into the kids room and kiss them each goodbye on their heads. Not one of them stirs and I don't want to disturb their innocent slumber.
In the car we head for the M25 in the early morning traffic all we see is lorries and I'm not in the mood to be counting Eddie Stobart trucks. Pulling into the hospital I take a deep breath and steady my nerves as Paul finds a car parking space near the out patients department which is the home of the admissions lounge. I'm booked in and asked to wait as I need to be seen by one of the admissions nurses. It seems a long time but is only about 20 minutes. I've brought the Ferrari so I'm comfortably seated. Paperwork and consent form signed. I meet the consultant for the first time. Tall and friendly with firey red hair....and cold hands! The procedure is explained and I am asked if I still want to go ahead....the answer of course is yes! The consultant draws an arrow on my leg to remind him which leg he is operating on!
This one please!
With everything signed and sealed I am on my way to Ward 4 to find my bed which will be home for the next few days. The corridors are cold and breezy but this is an old hospital made out of what look like Nissan huts and semi permanent buildings linked by a corridor on a hill!
I have got my own room! Room 9 , Isolation Room. I have a little chuckle to myself....Has my reputation preceded me?! The room is small but it has a window and a TV so I am thankful for that, and I will have more privacy here than in the main ward. I start to settle into my new home.
The waiting game now begins. A steady stream of people come by making sure I am ready. I am fitted with my sexy TEDs in a very fetching shade of dark green. The nurse, also called Catherine brings a large as she has spotted my rather long legs. After measuring my ankle and calf I need a size SMALL I have not been a small since I was kid, this has pleased me. I am changed into my hospital gown and netting panties to be wheeled down to theatre at 3pm. Its been such a long day and a week of limited or no sleep and its taken its toll on everyone especially Paul, my wonderful rock.
The porters knock on the door, check my wrist bands and check my name and date of birth. I give Paul a kiss goodbye and head for theatre. The porters are jovial characters trying to make me feel more relaxed. The anaesthetic nurse meets me at the anaesthetic room. In the corner I spy a cupcake...this is torture for someone who hasn't eaten anything since 8pm the night before. My stomach is protesting! Monitors are applied and cannulas fitted. The anaesthetist, a lovely lady with a kind smile administers the drugs. My arm feels cold and my eyes feel heavy. The next thing I know I'm recovery with something massaging my legs and the bear hug blanket keeping me warm by blowing warm air over my shivering body. The anaesthetist comes to check on me and give me a shot of pethedine to counteract the anaesthetic shakes I am suffering from. Once my stats have come back up to where they should be I go back to the ward.
The rest of Friday is pretty much a blur of drug induced fog. I have a big bandage on my right knee with a drain attached. My left leg has a mechanical cuff thing massaging my leg to prevent blood clots.
Saturday....OH MY!! This is NOT fun! The pain is unbelievable. Today is the day I am supposed to be getting mobile and out of bed but all I want to do is cry, scream and climb the walls. The physio comes and takes one look at me and says I will bleep the doctor, hands me a sheet of exercises and informs that she will be back tomorrow to discuss physio and getting out of bed. The doctor comes and adjusts my pain relief so I have a long acting one and a quick acting one. Both are controlled drugs but I am thankful for them. Saturday goes by in a drug fog and pain. Paul is unable to visit until about 7pm as Harry has football and a Beaver Scout event in the afternoon. It was important for me that the kids did not suffer and miss out on anything while I am in hospital.
Now when you have had surgery they want you be able to pass water as quickly as possible. On Saturday morning I have tried 3 times on the bed ban and sat on the commode for 40 minutes with my leg propped up on the bed trying to p. I am getting more and more uncomfortable and at this point distressed that I can't do the simplest of tasks that even a baby is able to do. As a last resort I am given a catheter....instant relief!
The Consultant visits, perching on the side of my bed he explains that they don't like to do joint replacement surgery in younger people, but this operation was justified. When they opened my leg up they found that the underside of my kneecap was extremely ulcerated and this would not heal. The operation had been a success and he was happy with the fit of the new knee cap and how it was running along the joint. I am relieved, happy and waiting for my next dose of morphine to send me back to the fog and eliminate my pain which is starting to return with a vengeance.
In between bouts of extreme pain I receive a message from my friend from school saying he and his girlfriend are in the area and want to pop in. What a lovely thing to do. Sid drops by and the first thing I say is "you're not seeing me at my best" to which he replies, " Cat, I have seen you much worse" bless him. It was lovely to see him and he brought me chocolate.....always welcome!
Paul arrives at just gone 7pm and give me the best hug ever. I am SO pleased to see him. The nurses change over and I get a bubbly Italian nurse. She's lovely. Explains that she will help me get on top of my pain so I don't have to suffer. Visiting time finishes at 8pm, the bell rings and my heart sinks. The friendly nurse pops her head in through the door, smiles and explains that Paul does not have to leave just yet. These little acts of kindness make such a big difference when you are feeling low. Paul sits in the chair next to the bed with his arm round me. It's nice. At just gone 9pm Paul leaves to make the hour and a bit journey home to the kids and my parents.
Sunday morning and I am determined to get up. My catheter is removed and the big bandage and drain in my knee is removed at about 5pm.
I get my first taste of freedom with a new knee and it's slow! The physio brings a walking frame, explains how to use it and we do a slow and steady walk on the ward. I return to my bed to enjoy the morphine and await a visit from Paul. I am now mobile enough to hobble to the washroom and toilet on my crutches.
As Monday is a busy day for the kids and Paul as he has his placement in school it was agreed that Mum and Dad would visit instead. The pain is still there but as long as the pain meds are taken on time and at regular intervals to prevent breakthrough pain it is manageable. Now don't get me wrong, it still hurts lots.... Mum comes in first and brings lunch! Cottage pie and chips, I'm hungry and thank for something nice. We chat, the physio comes to check my movement. It is explained that I need to get the bend of my knee to 90 degrees. It doesn't sound a lot does it? but when you have just had major surgery on the bendy part of your knee you feel every one of those degrees as you try to move it. The physio explains that if I can't get the movement progressing to the 90 degrees I will be put on a machine that bends your leg for you. The is NO WAY on the earth that I am going on that machine. I KNOW it hurts like nothing else so I am doing my exercises and bending that knee! Mum and Dad change over (they have the dog with them and he can't come into the hospital) we chat for a while be he has to leave. Monday night is pretty lonely laid in my room with the TV for back ground noise. I speak to the kids. George cries down the phone that he misses me and he wants me home, my heart breaks. Harry excitedly tells me about his school trip to the transport museum and Moo tells me about her day at school. I speak to Paul a couple of times throughout the evening...just because I need to hear his voice.
I actually had a good night sleep because the pain is under control and there is also the promise that I could be going home the next day.
Tuesday is a Good Day! it is eviction day! All xrays have come back good. My dressing is changed and I get the first glimpse of the registrars stapling skills! All 28 of them!!
Discharge papers are signed, drugs delivered, explained and anticoagulant injections explained and demonstrated. Stairs assessment completed and passed. Paul arrives to take me home and for the first time since Friday sees me standing with support. Getting into a Ford Mondeo is interesting. I'm in the wheelchair, the car seat has bee pushed as far back as it can go and the door is stretching to it's full opening width. I gingerly ease myself into the car and we head to the M25 to go home to my sofa, my bed and more importantly my kids. 5 days since I left home to get a new knee I am returning to continue to heal in comfort.
The kids were at school when we got back. I navigated the stairs to the bathroom to freshen up and get changed then relaxed on the sofa. There were big grins and even bigger hugs when my babies came home from school! Its good to be home!
I have a list from the hospital of things that need to be done....wound check on Friday 18th and staples out on 25th. I have a letter for the district nurse. I phone the GP to book an appointment...they don't do wound checks and staple removals. I phoned the walk in centre. Yes they do what I need doing but there are no appointments for either day. I explained my situation to be told I can come as a walk in patient and wait which can be up to 4 hours, or go back to the hospital I had the surgery at. GP is phoned and the practice manager writes off to the Single Point of Contact people to request a District nurse. Roll on one painful night spent snuggled up with my rock and the cat who seems to have missed me as much as the kids have missed me. I call the single point of contact centre who assure me they have received the referral and to contact the relevant clinic giving me the phone number. After a number of phone calls it is confirmed that the District Nurse will visit me at home. Another sigh of relief.
So here I am Wednesday afternoon. Mum has taken the dog for a walk, Paul has taken Moo to dance class, George is playing in a tank he has made out of boxes in creative time at school, Harry is playing patience (card game) with a deck of cards he has been given. I've done my exercises and am about to redo them to make sure I get the optimum movement out of my new metal work.
Until next time, keep safe and painfree.
