My Super Hero

Last Friday my BFF had his very first surgery.  I will admit it was rather nerve-racking.  Nothing major as in life or death, but major enough for us.  Jay suffered from Chronic Ankle Sprain which is a real condition, although the name sounds pretty basic.  Having played sports all of his youth and being a pretty aggressive fellow, it took its toll on his ankle(s).  Finally, we both agreed that enough was enough, we are still young (yes, we are) and we have young, active children.  It is better to tackle this now rather than waiting. 

Jay researched and found the surgeon he wanted at a hospital my grandparents have utilized for their knees, hips and legs over near Indianapolis.  He called, they accepted his request and an appointment was set up.  Jay liked the doctor right away and the surgery was scheduled.  I was amazed how smoothly it went down.

So last Friday was the day.  The Quackdaddy decided to come with us...just in case Jay would get sick or something on the way home (I hadn't even thought of that).  Naturally Jay and I thought the only reason he would want to come along is because there is this AMAZING restaurant over there that we frequent when we are anywhere near.  Quack assured us that was not his intention and I told him that we probably wouldn't get to eat there because the surgery would be quick and I may not want to leave the hospital.

We arrive on time (amazing, I know) and they quickly get Jay back and prepped.  Here's a funny...they come to get me about 15 minutes after taking him back and tell me I can come back and wait with him until it's time, and oh, you have a relative back here.  Who?  So I go back and the lady washing Jay's right ankle is not a relative of mine, but we shared the same great aunt (and my brother and family actually live in that great aunt's house where the nurse used to spend time in the summer!)  How weird is that?  I know, it's not unheard of, but it was ironic when she asked if Jay knew any Kannmacher's and he said "I'm married to one." 

Jay's surgery time was 12:00; we had to be there at 10:00...They didn't come get him until about 12:45.  Jay had been fasting since the night before and was getting irritable (understandably so).  I had eaten breakfast but had missed my snack...I was ready to gnaw on my thumb when they came back to get him, I can only imagine how he was feeling.  I had my purse full of snacks but didn't feel like I could eat in front of him.  (I will say when he went to use the restroom, I crammed a cutie orange down.)  As they wheeled Jay away, his last words to me were, "GO EAT." (He loves me.)   Dad and I were gone within minutes.

They had told us the surgery would last about 90 minutes and then he would have a short recovery period.  We ate lunch quickly and were back within an hour...and waited...and waited...and watched every other patient we had seen go in, come out.  At about the 2.5 hr mark, I inquired and they assured me everything was fine, it was just taking longer.  We continued to wait.  We watched a maintenance man wheel out large carts of trash.  The first load was piled and then covered with a white sheet, which had the outline of a body.  I asked him on the second pass if he had a 36 yr old white male underneath that sheet because we were missing one.  He assured us he did not.

It had been about four hours when I went back to the recovery room and asked the nurses sitting there what in the world was going on.  The one had just come out of the surgical room and said they were finishing up.  About 20 minutes later, the surgeon came out to talk to me.  He explained that he had just about finished up Jay's ankle and was 'stressing' the graphs he had attached to the bones when one tore.  Apparently the graphs he had used were new and the material wasn't what he liked.  He said that there was no way he was leaving ANY of them in there knowing one had torn...he took everything out and started over with the graphs he normally used.  So basically it was two surgeries instead of one.  He was very, very nice about everything and assured me that there was no concern as far as Jay's ankle, he was just "pissed off" that that happened. 

He also said that at some point Jay has broken a piece off of his fibula and it had slid down and attached to his ankle, and his ligaments and tendons were so shot that they could pull his heel/ankle in and out with ease.  Yuck!  No wonder he had trouble with pain in his ankle! 

So on Friday night at 6:00 p.m. (7:00 p.m. their time) on a holiday weekend, as all the lights were turned off, and I think the nurses were walking out with us, we wheeled Jay out the door and shoved him in the truck (ha).  I drove home and was pleased that both my dad and Jay were there to coach me in how to drive or else we might not have made it.  It was lovely weather for a drive, I might add, and if I had my choice, I would be delighted to have the opportunity to drive it again just for giggles.  Jay was a trooper when we got home and we got him up the front steps and in the house without Hank the Tank II knocking him over.

Oh, and the fail-proof, pre-set, you-can't-mess-this-thing-up machine Jay was given to use to compress and cool his ankle, with a compression cuff for his opposite calf, alerted immediately that it wasn't right...I called the number, talked to a gal, was cut off twice, tried her suggestions, nothing worked and I was spent.  The one giving us problems is the compression cuff for his good leg, so we're just going to wing it until his follow-up Thursday.  Jay is faithfully using the cooling/compression on the repaired ankle so we're hoping that is good enough.

Amazingly, Jay has been great.  I know he has to be uncomfortable, and although I've been annoyed a time or two (like getting a text at 2:00 a.m. from the living room that the dog has puked after I had just been up an hour before to help him with medicine and to go to the bathroom) I've had it pretty good.  I even swung that compression/cooling machine around and whacked his bad ankle...fortunately, the numbness was still in full effect or there could have been serious ramifications.  I figure the hard part will be when he starts feeling better and wants to go, go, go...and he can't. 

I am sick to death of football, but I've kept myself busy with organizing, cooking, laundry and Scrabble and I did retreat to the basement and get that room organized...yes!  Oh, I also escaped to Walmart with Lane and went to a visitation for a church member...and today I'm at work...kids are back to school tomorrow and then my Super Hero will be flying solo...until Thursday when the Quackdaddy will take him back to Mooresville for a follow-up which will, I am sure, include a trip to the fabulous Gray Brother's Cafeteria.  We really liked the doctor and we have no complaints with how things were handled there.  It is a fabulous place and that restaurant located just a few miles away is an added bonus :)