Help! Pre-Surgical Jitters

Excuse me while I freak out for a moment…
Freak Out KittyAs I have been mentioning all over the Internets in every place where I normally post personal things about myself for the whole world to see, my right knee is badly damaged and in need of surgical repair. Surgery is scheduled for Thursday 1/23/14. And that is a good thing.

Whenever people notice me hobbling around on my crutch with a crooked leg and ask how I’m doing, I tell them I’ll be much better after my surgery. Every person who hears about the surgery responds in a way that tells me they think having surgery is about the worst possible thing aside from dying. It’s not. The worst possible thing aside from dying would be to hobble around on a twisted leg, in pain, with no hope of repair. Surgery is a blessing, folks.

To tell the truth, my knee has been wonky (a.k.a. unstable) for YEARS and this surgery is going to make it better than it has been since 1993. Seriously. A good thing this surgery is. (Picture me squinting and nodding with Yoda-like certainty.)

So…why am I freaking out?

1 – The beloved Man Pillow has a cold. He is shuffling around in his bathrobe, speaking in a voice that is a full octave lower than normal, drinking pots of tea, making chicken soup and coughing. Which is a polite way of saying he is spewing nasty germs all over MY living space. ARGH! When he told me he was sick, I cursed. Loudly. I was a flat-out, selfish, unsympathetic meanie. I seriously considered tying a bandana over my nose and mouth.

The poor man is miserable and I should be taking care of him. I should be making the soup and brewing the tea. I should be massaging his back lovingly with no selfish thoughts about my own health. I swear, this would be the way I would normally behave. But I’m not. Instead, I am hiding in the spare room. Why? Because I NEED this surgery.

When the medical scheduler called me, she tried to schedule surgery for mid-February and I unleashed some serious freak out on her. The words “Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me to take a bath like this?” came out of my mouth. (Side Note: If you are now or have ever considered a career as a Medical Scheduler, reconsider. Know that you will be dealing with a segment of the public that is coming to you damaged, upset, and possibly in pain. You will be verbally abused. On a daily basis.)

Long story short, I practically twisted off that poor woman’s ear to get this surgery scheduled for this week. Now I’m afraid they may have to postpone it if I get a cold.

Is that true? Does anyone know if you can get knee surgery with a cold? Or will my surgeon have to postpone if I catch this [bleep]-ing illness that has invaded my home?

2 – Honey responded to my terror of infection by doing some research. Then he proudly told me I may not have to be put under general anesthesia for the surgery. I may even (he told me with an excited look in his eyes) be able to WATCH my surgery on a TV while it is happening.

Uh…what the WHAT?!?!?! Who thinks that is a good thing?!?! Not me. I have no (zip, zero, nada) interest in watching a sharp instrument cut into my flesh nor in seeing foreign objects rooting around inside my body. EEEWWWWWW!!!!

Both my mother and I think he is wrong about this. We think they will put me OUT like a light. But the very thought that they may not put me out is like this giant monster zombie chewing on my brain. And I won’t be able to ask my surgeon until Tuesday when I see him for my pre-op appointment. Hence this desperate plea for information.

Has anyone out there had knee surgery to repair the ACL? If so, did your surgery use general anesthesia or local? Please post in the comments or on Facebook or email me.

photo credit: macwagen via photopin cc

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2 thoughts on “Help! Pre-Surgical Jitters

  1. Wish I knew and could set your mind at ease. I can tell you that I once had surgery to remove a tumor from my thumb. They gave me a blocker thingy in my armpit or shoulder or something so I could be awake during the surgery. I think they can give you a block, too, in your groin or something, so you won’t have to sleep. However, my surgeon made the mistake of giving me Valium, too, to relax me. Only Valium makes me weepy. So I started crying, even though I could feel nothing he was doing to the thumb. At which point he said, “Knock her out! I can’t hear myself think.” And that’s the last thing I can remember until I was waking up all groggy. So…if you want to sleep and they tell you they aren’t going to let you, you can always cry.

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