Bye-bye Bunions!

The last photo of my left foot pre-op. Wearing very comfy sweats from Old Navy. Highly recommend them.

MONDAY

5:45 am-- Sweet little sis Rebecca shows up to chauffeur me to the surgery center.  I'm running up and down the stairs frantically trying to find my brush. Can't find it. A comb will have to do. Hair is still wet from my shower.  I'm still running on some high energy reserves that I must have obtained from my Oreo fix the night before.  I didn't go to sleep. Had too much to do. Definitely think I took advantage of my last 24 hours of being on my feet to the fullest extent possible. It was painful leaving the house with things I still wanted to do--- put more laundry away, tidy up my bedroom....all those things would just take me a few minutes more to do....after today they'd take me like an hour.

5:55 am -- Driving to the surgery center. Simple directions, but it was still dark so it took me a while before I spotted the building with HUGE signs.

6:05 am -- sitting in the waiting room with my little sis. Take one last picture of my feet before I go under the knife, then notice a fellow ward member sitting in the waiting room.His son was in an accident-- riding his scooter and a car stopped abruptly in front of him. Boy ran into the car, and rolled on top of it. He was in getting knee surgery.  Brother Hall asked what I was in for. Turns out Brother Hall had bunion surgery not long ago and said it was the best thing he ever did. How comforting for the last person to talk to before surgery be someone who had gotten the same thing done-- and not regret it. 

Rebecca hanging out in the waiting room with me. So sweet.

6:30ish am-- changed into the adorable gown, slippers and shower cap looking thing.  Nurse asks several questions regarding my health history and then instructs me to write "YES" in big letters on the foot that the doctor is going to perform surgery on.  Nice. Anything to prevent a mistake! She scrubs my foot, wraps it up, and then I meet the anesthesiologist.  He explains that once his medicine (I thought it was interesting how he referred it to "his"-- like another anesthesiologist would have given me something else not as good or something) enters my IV, I will have a funny taste in my mouth and in 5 seconds, I'll be out. I will wake up when it's all over.  I asked how long I should wait before nursing my baby. 24 hours is the rule, but he said it may be wise to pump and keep the milk and give it to my baby when she's especially fussy.  He was totally serious. My little sister was there to witness it. I got a good laugh out of it. Rebecca, correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't he say his wife did that?  Anyway, it was funny. My doctor stopped by, made sure I was okay with everything, asked what color cast I wanted {I told him to surprise me} and went to scrub in.  I bid my farewells to Rebecca. {Thanks again Gooser for the moral support!}

7:00 am  Got wheeled into the surgery room. It was just like the movies-- turning corners of sterile white walls in a very maze-like manner and then arriving in a room where there was music jamming and all the doctors and nurses were chatting about their personal lives. I asked who got to pick the radio station and my doctor said, "Yeah, who picked this one anyway?  Can someone change it? This stuff is horrible!" Then my mouth got this funny taste in it....and everything went black.

It was the deepest sleep I have ever had. I can see how one could develop a tendency to enjoy going under the knife just to be sedated. I felt amazing when I woke up. My foot was still completely numb, just now wrapped in a green cast. I heard Kyle say "She probably won't wake up for another 8 hours-- she didn't go to bed last night."  My throat was a little sore and the nurse asked if I was hungry.  I was famished. She named some things they had and vanilla pudding sounded pretty good. Kyle grumbled something under his breath--- along the lines of "..they'll charge us like 10 bucks for it and you don't even like vanilla pudding...."  Glad to know that even in dire circumstances my husband still holds true to his miser tendencies.  He fed me the pudding and then I heard Brother Hall next door. His son was recovering in the curtain next to mine. He sounded like he was in pain. I felt bad for the guy. I personally felt great. Everyone should do this! I thought to myself. I called out to him to say hello and I think we had a conversation, but I don't remember much of what we said.  I do recall Kyle seizing the moment and asking if he could go hunting in South Dakota again next year.  I was gushing with love and appreciation for him-- of course he could go hunting!  

The nurses made sure I had crutches and knew how to use them before sending me on my way. I don't remember how we got to the car. A wheelchair? I think Kyle lifted me in.  The next few hours are a bit hazy, but totally painless.  My goal was to stay completely on top of my meds so no pain would be felt. Rebecca stayed and hung out for a little while and did things around the house. Her little Bailey is a hoot. She is SO full of personality and is particular about the funniest things. She can laugh and whine in the same breath. That takes serious talent!

Later Melody stopped by. The kids played while we talked. At least I think we talked. Pretty sure. I gave her her almost 3 month-late birthday present --- a gift certificate to the dry-cleaners. I know, so sweet, personal and thoughtful. :)  Name one woman you know who enjoys ironing? (Okay, Kelli-- your mom-- but she's the only one I know!)  See?  Totally great gift. And Melody actually irons. I complain about it, but I rarely do it.  She does it, like several hours each week. I like to think I gave her about 8 hours back of her life she would have spent ironing.

We were brought dinner and the kids were very sweet about my foot. Ruby and I hung out in bed.  I read, slept, fed and changed Ruby.  It is nice to have one child I can care for in my disabled state!

My parents called that evening and by then I was much more alert. Dad was curious as to how in the heck last Sunday when we were all gathered for dinner that there was no mention of surgery, and then a week later, he hears his daughter is laid up for 6 weeks.   Things happen rather quickly around here. I would have to say, that's the way to do it. If I had more time to talk myself out of this, I probably would.

Day one Post-op? No complaints, no regrets!

It's a rather nice shade of green, wouldn't you agree?