Gypsy Hearted Ginger: Surgery Day

Greetings from the couch!

Foot up, resting after surgery to remove a neuroma from my right foot. A Morton's Neuroma to be specific, in it's most common position between third and fourth metatarsals. I wont bore you with all the details, but in short, it's the inflammation of a nerve that rubs between the bones in your foot and hurts like hell.

The decision to have the neuroma removed was not easy, but in the end seemed the best option if I want to run again pain free. The process leading up to surgery, I must say, was possibly more painful than the operation itself. Finding a decent surgeon who wouldn't charge me the earth, getting Medical Aid authorisation and all the paperwork that ensued, was stressful and time consuming.

But I got through all that and found myself sitting in the Day Ward at Midlands Medical Centre last Friday awaiting my time on the slate (some hospital slang I picked up during my time on the inside). From there I transported up to the surgical ward in a wheelchair - tons of fun, but i guess that's only when you have the option of stepping out of it at the end of the day.

Foot painted with iodine and wrapped up like a present for the surgeon.

I had a fairly long wait before surgery time, but I had my brother Daryn there to keep me company and the added entertainment of changing into the super sexy regulation hospital underwear and gown, awesome hat included.

Ready to go, check out my cool style yo!

Finally the time came for a little 'pre-meds' and from that moment my brain to mouth filter left me completely! I'm not sure whether the theatre nurses were amused or annoyed by my antics, but I like to think that my little performance added a little brightness to their day.

The hat provided much entertainment, especially when I realised all the theatre staff were sporting ones of the same fashion, such a trend-setter! I did ensure at this time that my surgeon would be cutting the top of my foot and not the bottom (I've heard that this is important, but hadn't seen the doctor until then) and persistently asked that he please take a photo of the neuroma once he'd cut it out of my foot. This sounds really gross, but after having Harry live in my foot for so long, I kinda wanted to see the little sucker before he ends up in a lab or incinerator.

Coming out of anesthetic is always great: the confusion, the grogginess, and in my case always a few laughs. These are a few situations that actually happened:

Me: What's the time please? (pure presumption that my manners remained intact).
Male Nurse: Twenty to three.
Me: Are you sure? That clock over there says twenty to two, was the operation that quick? (I was taken into theatre at around 1:30pm)
Male Nurse: I'm quite sure, that clock says twenty to three.
Me: I think I'm going blind!
Male Nurse (with a bit of a chuckle): No, you're just coming out of anesthetic.

Before being given a painkiller, directly into my right butt cheek, I did have a moments panic when I realised my hat had been lost. And also moaned at the Anesthetist for not giving me any warning before putting me under.

The 'after' picture - not pretty.

Back in the ward, while taking my blood pressure, the arm cuff kept coming undone on inflation, and I tried to convince the nurse that it was because I have the strength of the Incredible Hulk. She was trying to complete paperwork and was not all that amused by my antics, but a Sister came along and played the game with me, saying she could see how strong I really was. I'm thankful for her sense of humour.

Daryn was right there when I was wheeled back into the ward, but once we'd been informed I'd only be discharged at 9pm, I told him to head out and come back later. I was feeling pretty drowsy and expected to sleep the whole afternoon. As he left we had this conversation:

Me: Why do you have 'HB' written on your hand?
Daryn: It says 'H-8', your ward number.
Me: Oh yes, HB is a pencil, H-8 is my ward number.