Paul’s Turn

We had to get to the surgery center early for Paul’s surgery.  First they wanted insurance information and a down payment.

I was told how I could stay updated on his surgery while I “patiently” waited in the waiting room.
They took us back and seated Paul in this chair and had him don the appropriate garb befitting surgery.
He was then hooked up to an awesome blanket that blows in warm air.  (I might have been jealous, other than the surgery and stuff that hurts.)
He was given to obligatory IV.

And I was sent packing.  And waited “patiently”.  The doctor came and spoke to me and said things went well.  I got to visit with him for a little bit before they sent him home.  I fetched the car and my man.

Tradition calls for milkshakes but Paul wanted Taco Bell too.  I’m pretty sure that wasn’t included as part of the post-op diet, but who am I to argue?

He was sent home with this nifty toy.  He was able to play with it while he was parked on the recliner!

He was a pretty good patient this time!

We were fortunate to be blessed with a meal and some goodies from some people in our ward family.

Paul was supposed to take it easy and had a few days off from work.  However, the day after surgery the kitchen sink developed a leak.  He felt he had to be the one to fix it.  So he did.

He figured if he felt good enough to fix a leak then he should probably go back to work.  So he did the next day.

Healing and Blessings Continue

I had no idea what a challenge this surgery would be.  Not only did it HURT, but I was frustrated with the things I could not do on my own.
I was grateful for the things I could do.  I managed to master driving one handed, the hardest parts were turning the key to start the van and removing the key after turning it off.  That freedom was HUGE and kept me sane.
But my splint was still my constant companion. . .

Ugly swollen fingers . . .
I could not straighten my arm much less scratch my nose. 

It was hard to hold my arm up or let it hang down so I had to prop it up constantly.

I went to my first doctor’s appointment (after surgery) and he took the bandages off. . . what relief!  But then he put it right back on after admiring the stitches and removing a few pounds of cotton.

I was blessed by a wonderful friend (and visiting teacher) who came over and cleaned my kitchen (I was living with nothing but males  who don’t *see* dirt and messes the same way I do. . .)

A clean kitchen can really lift your spirits!
(Note I still could not take a shower because the stitches were still in.  Why did no one tell me about this horror?)
A several weeks after surgery, I was instructed to remove my splint a few times a day and *try* to straighten my arm. 

What do you mean that’s not straight?

And then my friend came back and cleaned my bathroom!!!!!  (tears of JOY!)

I was going a bit stir crazy and just wanted to go somewhere. . .anywhere.  How lucky are we to live so close to Tahoe?  So off we went. . .

That was the end of that hike. . . but I could totally see a tennis court in the distance. *sigh*
Another friend. . .another blessing!  Everyone deserves some sunshine a box

So many little things helped me endure this tough time.  I felt so guilty that so many people were doing nice things for me.  I didn’t HAVE to have the surgery (but I really wanted to be able to use my arm pain-free . . though at this time, I doubted it would ever be that way.)

Sometimes You Have to Pay the Price

As previously noted on this blog, I hurt my arm a while ago. . . pesky tennis elbow.  But this time it was determined not to heal.  I missed tennis a lot, but I also missed being able to sleep at night (it would wake me) and doing every day things.
So I went back to my regular doctor who sent me to a different orthopedist for a second opinion.
First things he did were to prescribe an arm brace to keep me from straightening my arm at night and a round of physical therapy.
The arm brace made a big difference!  Hurray!  PT was painful, as it is supposed to be.  When I went back for my follow up appointment with my doctor, he jumped straight to recommending surgery.  In less than two week’s time! Wow!!!!
He knew everything I tried.  Our insurance year was about to end and the new insurance is pretty horrid so . .. . I scheduled it.
I just wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do.  The timing wasn’t ideal as Paul would be out of town.  So I didn’t tell anyone because I hadn’t decided.
But I started making preparations to live life one handed for a while.
I knew I wouldn’t be able to tie my shoes. . .

so I bought springy shoe laces so I could slip them on.
Because tennis would be out of the question for a while and I wanted to do SOMETHING, I went shopping. . .

I cleaned my house. . .

The day before I was in full blown panic attack.  My man was not available to calm me down so I turned it over to the Lord.
David was home from school, so he was able to take me in for my surgery.
before

after

Truthfully, I don’t remember much of that day other than being drugged up.
I spent most of my time here

and a friend (who found out) brought me these

David was there for me.  He fetched me things and took care of me . .  at least that first day.  I suppose he thought it was enough.
After this was the really hard part.  It is hard not being able to care for yourself.  Life one-handed is difficult and even more so when it hurts.
I had never realized how many things it takes two hands to do.  I could not open a water bottle on my own.  I could not bath or brush my teeth.  It was so humbling to be dependent on others and even worse when they didn’t feel like helping you.
I couldn’t really cook so how was I supposed to do the dishes left piling up?

I could not go grocery shopping by myself because I couldn’t push a cart. 
My hand starting swelling up A LOT.  I was not handling it very well at all.  I hated my bandaging and not being able to do anything.

(it’s also hard to take one handed pictures much less type on the computer!)
But I was determined to find independence however I could.  I asked for help.. . and I was so blessed.  I needed some milk but knew I couldn’t do it on my own.  So one of my angels brought me milk and a treat (and put it away for me).
My hair was so disgusting and I was tired of wearing a ball cap so I asked another friend (my hairdresser) if she would wash it for me.  And she did countless times, including giving me an easy to care for style.  And she didn’t charge me a thing.

I still tear up when I think about the difference these two ladies made to me.  I went for about as low as I could sink to feeling so loved.
And that was just the first week. . .