What an interesting two weeks it has been. Emotional train wreck one minute, sobbing like a teenager who just broke up with her boyfriend of one week the next ! I feel pregnant again about 8 months to be precise, the time when your back hurts, your feet swell, you have to roll a few times to get the momentum to roll out of bed, eating almost everything , thinking about what you will eat next, feeling like it's never going to end, sleeping sometimes mid conversation, and of course the dreaded mood swings (clearly this can not be pointed out when I'm in one).
First few days I am sore and feeling very robocop-ish, my husband and kids are doing a great job trying to keep the house sorted. I'm incredibly tired and keep my leg elevated as much as possible. The mighty All Blacks play their first test against England and the ANZ Netball Semi's are on so I'm enjoying the Foxtel in my room and meals delivered on a tray like the hospital. I am having more pills than my grandma and thankful the pain goes away quickly. Aside from the Panadol, I have Oxycodone, Inza an anti inflamm and 1 jab of Clex-aid each night to prevent blood clots. I'm weak in the tummy and jabbing the little needle still makes me hold my breath and look away. Pathetic I know. My tummy is bruised and look much like a pin cushion after one week of those. The incision site burns most of the time.
Monday arrives and the kids go to school, hubby goes to work and thankfully my friend calls in to help, you certainly are thankful for friends and family at this point. My Dad picks up my knee scooter and wow I'm a new woman. Scooting round is a godsend , I am able to get a few simple chores done. A few loads of washing, making dinner and checking up on homework. While I know how much rest everyone has recommended it's unrealistic for me and I soon work out whats ok and whats too much. Any throbbing or strong pain means get to bed, burning where the incision is means this is the last thing you can do for a few hours, and on my scooter or crutches for more than 2 hours means rest & elevate. So about day 5 I stopped with the Oxy and started with panadol and nurofen every 4-6 hours. Pain was moderate but manageable and started to ease off.
By day 8 I was getting pain in my calf like I had stretched it. It was throbbing but I couldn't locate the pain other than in my calf. I had been too active probably and thought that it was related to that, after dinner it would get worse and a few nights I was waking up to take pain killers. I am amazed how tired I can get , my body is obviously working hard to compensate for my leg. Time to add some good food to my diet and some vitamins. My achilles on my good leg is becoming sore and my back is killing me. Being this immobile is hard, my head is still coming to terms with it. A few more days and my Mum arrives from New Zealand and I really can't wait to see her. Something about having your Mum around when you're sick (or injured). Before she arrives I have my post op appointment with the surgeon.
The surgeon was running an hour late so the waiting room was like AA for ATR patients. It went something like this "Hi I'm Alan, I am 6 weeks post op ..... " we discussed first shower out of boot, modes of transport ( I was the only one who hired a scooter) two of us were just newbies and the other 4 were able to advise us on the things that helped or hindered them. It was the best 1 hour I've spent in a waiting room. Got to see my incredibly busy Doc and he opened up the boot, removed the dressing, snipped a few stitches and asked a few questions. He said my achilles had coiled up which was news to me, that my scar looked good. I am now allowed to partial weight bear with crutches as tolerated. He asked me to describe the calf pain and wrote a referral to have an ultrasound to see if it was a blood clot. Really I thought, could this get any worse!
So following day I went to the ultrasound appointment. A lady morphing Cruella De Vil meet me and told my husband there wasn't enough room for him. Once in the room she asks me to get down to my underwear and that I wasn't going to like this. I am feeling like I'm going to despise this woman. Yep I did. She didn't leave the room or offer a gown, she made me feel like shit asking me why I thought I had a blood clot and that it's unlikely. I explained that I would rather be rugged up at home than going through the pain I was in and that my surgeon sent me. She had to squeeze my calf 20 times, it hurt like hell. Sure enough there was a DVT, a blood clot in my vein. She then told me to go straight to my doctors.
My lovely GP who knows us well called me to discuss it. "Young Kylie you are in the wars, what are we going to do with you" she said calmly. I was relieved to be dealing with her. We made an appointment and was told to double up on my injection that night. I am now on Xarelto (rivaroxaban) twice a day. She said I will be on medication for 6 months. Bummer but it could be worse. I guess thats why they say there are more complications with surgery.
Two weeks down and it really feels like months. I have a few down moments with the kids and not making to one of their special activities or just hanging with them, I am missing not watching their sport. So decided I would take the wheelchair, my Dad and all the kids for a morning of rugby as my husband was working. Both boys had big games. It was so good to be amongst it again, cheering and yahooing on the side line. Caught up with lots of the rugby Mums who didn't know I was injured 4 weeks earlier let alone the surgery and wondered why I wasn't at the games, however the Dads were cracking jokes about my Husbands new line of work and were all up to date with camboot and my progress. It was hardcase. 3 hours later I could feel the swelling and called it a day. Could barely keep my eyes open on the drive home , that was harder on the body than I thought. So home for a rest with my leg up and I was feeling pretty good about my outing. Only 8 - 10 weeks to go ... NO WORRIES
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