On July 3rd of last year, during our final dress rehearsal of The Sound of Music, Michael had an accident that resulted in a piece of his kneecap being chipped off. It wasn't identified as such at the time, but he was in a ton of pain and the whole thing was really bad.
Over the next few months, the chipped piece healed, but slightly out of place. So when we finally saw a doctor in November, we were told Michael would need to have surgery soon or plan for a knee replacement in about 30 years. We opted for surgery.
On January 9th - the day after finally arriving home from Christmas after being stuck in frozen Detroit overnight - the deed was done.
Here he is with a numb left leg, electrodes stuck to his chest, and an IV in his arm (after they had to poke him 9 times - poor honey!). I tried not to watch the monitor that kept track of his vitals because as soon as anything went up or down I started to freak out inside. Lol. I thought he looked kinda cute in his shower cap. And check out the cool socks - our friend Ruth in Australia sent them for Christmas!
Man, what a day. What would have normally taken just a few hours ended up taking EIGHT (the surgery before him went overtime by three hours). I didn't mind waiting for that long, except for the fact that I kept being tormented by tragic visions of my sweetheart sedated on a surgery table (this was my first experience with surgery, ever). And after the surgery was estimated to end, nobody came to tell me anything for over an hour. So by the time they fetched me I was literally pacing the floor of the lobby with my insides all in knots.
When they took me back to a waiting room, I could hear Michael mumbling from around the corner. He was just waking up from the anesthesia, extremely inquisitive and not wanting to stay put. It was pretty hilarious. These are some of the conversations I heard:
Michael: "What's this?"
Nurse: "An ice pack."
Michael: "Sweet."
Michael: "How did I get dressed?"
Nurse: "Me and the other nurse helped you."
Michael: "Sweet."
Michael (to about 10 different people): "How's my meniscus? Did they touch my meniscus??"
(He was very concerned about them fiddling with his meniscus unnecessarily, convinced that there was nothing wrong with it. Turns out there was, but that was the main thing he was upset about following the surgery. For, like, several hours.)
Michael: "What happened?"
Doctor: "You fell asleep."
Michael: "What time is it?"
Nurse: "It's 3:30."
Michael: "Oh man...well - I gotta get outta here!" (rustling of blankets)
Nurse: "Whoa, wait just a second! You forgot the waking up part!"
He kept trying to get up and the nurses kept having to push him back in bed. It actually helped relieve my tension a little because it was like, "Well, that's my Michael alright! The drugs haven't completely altered his personality!" He had actually promised me before the surgery that he'd try to push through the anesthesia and wake up quickly, to which I responded "No, don't, you take your time waking up!" So much for that. :)
When they took me back to see Michael and get him to the car, he was still very groggy and bleary eyed, but that didn't mean he was quiet. "I don't want anything to do with any pain meds, I have a veeery addictive personality!" he said. And, "Look, I can't feel my leg at all!" (Numb foot promptly falls off the wheelchair footrest and onto the floor and Rachel slaps her forehead.) The nurses were all giving me sympathetic looks and saying to Michael, "Now don't you give her any trouble tonight!"
Somehow we made it home. Because Michael still couldn't feel his left leg, he literally hopped up each step to get to our second-story apartment while I supported his left foot. Once inside the apartment, I was really stressed about keeping him safe and following doctor's order and such. It felt like there was a lot to remember with icing and elevation and compression and medication, plus I still hadn't gotten over the stress of worrying about him earlier in the day. So things just built up until I was a big emotional mess. I felt terrible about not being able to keep it together - I wanted to be the perfect caretaker and felt like such a failure. Luckily things were much better the next day. All the feeling returned to Michael's leg overnight - hooray!! - and from there things improved dramatically. He only had to use crutches for the first day, was able to fight pain using only Ibuprofen, and overall did very well in recovery. The stitches are now gone, and Michael is thrilled to be able to shower again.
So that was our surgery experience. Could have been worse, that's for sure. And I guess it's good that I feel that way because, knowing Michael, he will probably have to have at least one more surgery in this lifetime...!!
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