I broke the Ulna bone in my forearm, near the flexor digitorum sublimis, where it connects to the elbow, but an inch below the actual end of the bone. It was compacted; shoved back onto itself. What can I say? I’m an overachiever.
The surgery was a success. It was, however, much more complicated than expected because when I do something, I do it well. Originally the expected time for my surgery was 1 ½ hours. It took closer to three hours to fix me.
The original plan had options of pins or plates and screws AND bone tissue from a cadaver.
(Ooooohh, zombie elbow!)
But, because of the extensive damage, the best way to deal with my situation was to add a T-shaped plate and screws to the broken bone so it would sit correctly and fit into my elbow properly. No dead guy bone tissue needed. It’s a permanent addition to my arm and therefore will require me to carry a card so I can travel through airports and not get hassled as bad by homeland and airport security.
I’m currently in a splint that’s a cottony covered metal sheath that is a little open on the sides and where my hand is, but curves around my elbow nicely to hold me in place. It’s wrapped in ace bandages to keep it snug. It prevents me from moving my elbow or twisting my arm so both the wound from surgery and the bone have a chance to heal.
I have staples (Whee! Don't run!) running from 2” above my elbow down to about 4” below. I was able to see them two days after surgery. I didn’t expect to see staples. I thought I was sewn together. It was a little disappointing, actually.
The splint is to remain on at all times until the Dr. removes the staples on Mon 24th! At that point I will have physical therapy.
Since the fall itself I’ve only taken 4 vicodin. I discovered yet another reason for me to dislike the stuff. Its bad enough it makes me sick if I don’t eat enough food when I take them, but they also make me unhappy. Apparently depression is a side effect. There’s a reason I don’t do drugs and despite the need to take the vicodin both on the day I saw the Dr (when she rotated my broken arm), as well as the night of and day after my surgery (when the pain was at it’s worst) I quit taking the stuff by two days after surgery. (Drug’s are bad, m’kay!)
Now upon learning I had a new permanent cyborg arm I was dearly hoping it would be magnetic. I really wanted to put a little bunch of bananas refrigerator magnet on my elbow. Frankly I would have laughed hysterically if I could attach magnets to my arm but apparently titanium is not magnetic.
I’m currently in a splint that’s a cottony covered metal sheath that is a little open on the sides and where my hand is, but curves around my elbow nicely to hold me in place. It’s wrapped in ace bandages to keep it snug. It prevents me from moving my elbow or twisting my arm so both the wound from surgery and the bone have a chance to heal.
I have staples (Whee! Don't run!) running from 2” above my elbow down to about 4” below. I was able to see them two days after surgery. I didn’t expect to see staples. I thought I was sewn together. It was a little disappointing, actually.
The splint is to remain on at all times until the Dr. removes the staples on Mon 24th! At that point I will have physical therapy.
Since the fall itself I’ve only taken 4 vicodin. I discovered yet another reason for me to dislike the stuff. Its bad enough it makes me sick if I don’t eat enough food when I take them, but they also make me unhappy. Apparently depression is a side effect. There’s a reason I don’t do drugs and despite the need to take the vicodin both on the day I saw the Dr (when she rotated my broken arm), as well as the night of and day after my surgery (when the pain was at it’s worst) I quit taking the stuff by two days after surgery. (Drug’s are bad, m’kay!)
Now upon learning I had a new permanent cyborg arm I was dearly hoping it would be magnetic. I really wanted to put a little bunch of bananas refrigerator magnet on my elbow. Frankly I would have laughed hysterically if I could attach magnets to my arm but apparently titanium is not magnetic.
Yvette drove me to the hospital for the surgery. She was awesome! She totally kept me laughing despite the fact I was a little nervous. I was telling her what I wanted done instead of a burial if I died. I was mentally parsing out my belongings and realizing I needed a proper will for my collections and cats in case I died.
I met my prep nurse, my surgery nurse and my doctor came in to cut off the temp cast he put on my arm the Friday before. I was waiting to meet the anesthesiologist. Once he walked in I was upfront with him. He asked how I was, I told him I was nervous and didn’t want to die. I know he didn’t expect it. I explained that at Fountain Valley they almost killed my father during a simple eye surgery because they gave him the wrong anesthesia. He was supposed to come home the night of the surgery but because of the wrong stuff he had to stay for a couple of days to recover.
I looked him in the eye and said, “I don’t want to die, don’t kill me.” Poor guy. He seemed to understand. He walked over to my IV, injected it and immediately knocked me out!
Oh and can I say, I really, really, really don’t like having a damn IV needle put in through my hand! Take it from my arm!
I told the nurse but she did a big song and dance about how it would be better from my hand because she can see the veins easily. This conversation did not instill confidence. So I accepted that she didn’t want to try my arm and let her puncture my hand. I did not like it.
I woke up hours later in the recovery room to some nurse who I’d not met though I apparently thought that I had.(stupid anesthesia!) Suddenly I was being told to get dressed and was immediately wheeled out to Yvette’s car. I had the window open the whole ride home. I wasn’t sure if I was going to react poorly to the anesthesia. Fortunately I was fine.
I’d arrived at the hospital at 3pm and it was 10:30pm when we got home, Mordan was waiting for us. Much like a relay race they did the passing of the Yvonne. Mordan and Yvette met and exchanged info about my condition before Yvette went home to her husband. I spoke a bit with Mordan then got a call from my Satanist checking in on me. Then I spoke with Greg, you know, that cutie I was out with when I dorked out and took a spill and thusly broke my arm? Yeah, that one. Talked with him for a couple of hours then decided it was sleepy night-night time.
Because my Dad was out of town (checking out the Rosicrucian Museum when I called him) Mordan stayed the night and most of the next day with me to make sure everything was ok for me. Other than when the hospital administered meds wore off at 3am (Oh, that was an exceptionally unpleasant pain to wake up to.) and I had to wake her to help get food into me prior to taking the vicodin, there was little to no pain or problems.
Funny thing (not really) turns out the dressing for my arm was wrapped too tight after surgery since my fingers were numb. The Doc called the following day to check on me and he scheduled for me to come in the next day so he could check my dressing and make sure there wasn’t any nerve damage. Angela was a dear sweetheart and drove me to the Dr. The Dr. loosened the wrapping and the feeling returned to my fingers. All’s well.
My friends have been amazing! I totally love them! Many of my friends offered assistance if needed for rides, help at home, shopping or meals. Overall I haven’t really needed too much but when I do they totally come through for me.
Tien Di Kat came by one night with Thai food for dinner so we could catch up. Lauren drove me to the Vampire Dim Sum on Sunday, after which all the girls came over so we could watch vampire porn aka True Blood. And tonight the Other Michelle took me to the Harry Potter Meetup.
Overall I’ve been well, but I find I’m physically exhausted everyday despite trying to rest. I’m actually sleeping 9-10 hours a night. Apparently growing new bone takes a lot of energy. Where’s Madame Pomfrey’s “Skele-Gro” when you need it?
I met my prep nurse, my surgery nurse and my doctor came in to cut off the temp cast he put on my arm the Friday before. I was waiting to meet the anesthesiologist. Once he walked in I was upfront with him. He asked how I was, I told him I was nervous and didn’t want to die. I know he didn’t expect it. I explained that at Fountain Valley they almost killed my father during a simple eye surgery because they gave him the wrong anesthesia. He was supposed to come home the night of the surgery but because of the wrong stuff he had to stay for a couple of days to recover.
I looked him in the eye and said, “I don’t want to die, don’t kill me.” Poor guy. He seemed to understand. He walked over to my IV, injected it and immediately knocked me out!
Oh and can I say, I really, really, really don’t like having a damn IV needle put in through my hand! Take it from my arm!
I told the nurse but she did a big song and dance about how it would be better from my hand because she can see the veins easily. This conversation did not instill confidence. So I accepted that she didn’t want to try my arm and let her puncture my hand. I did not like it.
I woke up hours later in the recovery room to some nurse who I’d not met though I apparently thought that I had.(stupid anesthesia!) Suddenly I was being told to get dressed and was immediately wheeled out to Yvette’s car. I had the window open the whole ride home. I wasn’t sure if I was going to react poorly to the anesthesia. Fortunately I was fine.
I’d arrived at the hospital at 3pm and it was 10:30pm when we got home, Mordan was waiting for us. Much like a relay race they did the passing of the Yvonne. Mordan and Yvette met and exchanged info about my condition before Yvette went home to her husband. I spoke a bit with Mordan then got a call from my Satanist checking in on me. Then I spoke with Greg, you know, that cutie I was out with when I dorked out and took a spill and thusly broke my arm? Yeah, that one. Talked with him for a couple of hours then decided it was sleepy night-night time.
Because my Dad was out of town (checking out the Rosicrucian Museum when I called him) Mordan stayed the night and most of the next day with me to make sure everything was ok for me. Other than when the hospital administered meds wore off at 3am (Oh, that was an exceptionally unpleasant pain to wake up to.) and I had to wake her to help get food into me prior to taking the vicodin, there was little to no pain or problems.
Funny thing (not really) turns out the dressing for my arm was wrapped too tight after surgery since my fingers were numb. The Doc called the following day to check on me and he scheduled for me to come in the next day so he could check my dressing and make sure there wasn’t any nerve damage. Angela was a dear sweetheart and drove me to the Dr. The Dr. loosened the wrapping and the feeling returned to my fingers. All’s well.
My friends have been amazing! I totally love them! Many of my friends offered assistance if needed for rides, help at home, shopping or meals. Overall I haven’t really needed too much but when I do they totally come through for me.
Tien Di Kat came by one night with Thai food for dinner so we could catch up. Lauren drove me to the Vampire Dim Sum on Sunday, after which all the girls came over so we could watch vampire porn aka True Blood. And tonight the Other Michelle took me to the Harry Potter Meetup.
Overall I’ve been well, but I find I’m physically exhausted everyday despite trying to rest. I’m actually sleeping 9-10 hours a night. Apparently growing new bone takes a lot of energy. Where’s Madame Pomfrey’s “Skele-Gro” when you need it?
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