When I got back home, it was okay, but the next day it was getting worse and worse. In the afternoon I finally gave up thinking it would magically get better and asked my mom to take me to the hospital for them to take a look. After waiting for a while, it was the E.R. what else can you expect, I was taken back for the nurses to see if they could figure it out and then for x-rays. The doctor came back to say that they saw floating cartilage behind my knee cap. I was sent home in a knee immobilizer and 800 mg of ibuprofen. What the doctor didn't know - I wasn't even given the chance to tell them - is that I've become immune to pain meds due to the amount of joint and back pain I constantly have.
It's pretty well know around where I live that if you have something wrong with your bones or the like, you go to a doctor about an hour away. He is the best as far as I'm concerned. Anyway, following the local hospital's diagnosis, I scheduled an appointment with the orthopedist. I went down there, and the doctor said that nothing was wrong and that everything looked asymmetrical. At the time my knee was actually starting to heal again and I knew it would be fine in a few days. So we left with the intention of going and getting a MRI done should my knee continue to swell and hurt. With how annoying my body can be, my knee got better and I didn't need to have an MRI done, so nothing really came from the visit.
About the second week of January my knee once again began to swell, only this time it was much worse in both size and pain. That night I went to the E.R. again, I had x-rays done only this time they didn't say anything about floating cartilage, nor did they see anything. This happened on a Saturday, I believe, the following Tuesday I went back down to see the orthopedist. The doctor there, unlike anyone at the hospital, saw something on my knee, a bump I guess you could call it. He thought it was worth taking a look at, and his next day just so happened to be when he would be doing surgeries. So the very next day I went back down for knee surgery.
One thing they don't really tell you about surgeries is that the anesthesiologist doesn't like for people to eat or drink or just have anything in their stomach before the procedure just incase they get sick and have to throw up. This meant that I couldn't eat anything after midnight.
To say I wasn't in a good mood was an understatement, I was tired, hungry, and very upset with pretty much everyone. When the hospital called to say they had a time for my surgery, we were already on the road down there and at that point I just wanted to hurry things along so I could eat afterwards. Well, since this was my first ever surgery I also didn't know that you had to take EVERYTHING off. Meaning I thought I could stay in at least my bra and underwear. Boy was I wrong. You have to take every little piece of clothing, jewelry, anything you had on off and put on the stupid dress the nurses give you. My mood went from bad to worse when I found out that little piece of wonderful news. But wanting to get better and no long have the pain and trouble with my knee, I did what I had to. So I changed into the dress, was covered with a heated blanket, and had socks but on my feet (O.R.s are actually supposed to be really cold to keep them clean).
The anesthesiologist came in with one of the nurses to explain what was sorta going to happen and how I was going to be put to sleep. Another nurse in the mean time put a very large IV in my arm which would do its normal job along with administer the anesthesia. (On a side note, I am a diabetic who was diagnosed at the age of 17 months. When I was about four I began a long period of time where I was absolutely terrified of needles and to this day I still can't watch when I have to have my blood drawn of have large shots done.) And let me tell you, that fucker hurt. The anesthesiologist continued to tell me that the anesthesia would probably be administered through the IV and then once I was under I would have a tube put in my throat to help me breath. I wouldn't remember it, most likely, and would only come out with a sore throat. As I've mentioned, I'm somewhat immune to pain meds, so I brought up the subject to the anesthesiologist who just said that the medicine or drugs they were giving me were very strong and I don't have to worry about it. She then reassured me by saying if there was a chance it wasn't working the mask they put on me could be used to give me added knockout meds.
With that, the orthopedist came in to ask me if I was ready and then wheeled the bed and me out of the room and on my way to the O.R. My last memory of before the surgery was being asked if I could help the move my body from the bed I was in from the original room onto the bed of the O.R. After that, I was out like a light. The next thing I remember was waking up in so much pain that I wish the nurse that had woken me up had just left me asleep. I immediately began to cry, but it wasn't like I could do much since I was still under the influence of the anesthesia. The nurse could see I was in pain and asked me, just be sure I guess, and all I could do was nod. I was given some medicine as my mom came in the room. She came over to hold my hand and try to help me as much as she could until the meds kicked in. The nurse mentioned that the pain would go away in about half an hour or so, the time seemed to last forever yet at the same time fly by without me being completely free from the anesthesia effects.
Once the meds did begin to take effect, it was like I was being pushed out of the hospital, literally and figuratively. I had the okay from the doctor and the nurses so a lady - I don't remember her name but I do know she was a volunteer from her name tag - wheeled me out front where my mother had the car ready for me. We left the hospital and went out to dinner at LongHorn, since I really hadn't had anything other than some goldfish they gave me when I woke up. Let me tell you, dinner was great thanks to those meds. The waiter was a nice, handsome guy and kinda funny. When my mother asked if the butter was real, he replied yeah it was, it had a picture of a cow on the front. To a non high me, that would have been 'haha' funny, to on a pain meds high me, well let's just say I laughed not only for a good five minutes, but also each time he came back to the table after that. The trip back home wasn't nearly as exciting, mainly because I spent the hour or so asleep. This is where the story gets boring...got home...went back to sleep...woke up every four hours to take more pain meds...went back to sleep.
Now let me tell you kids - or adults - oxycodone, the pain meds I was taking, can be good for the first couple of days, but after that you feel like shit. See the doctor tells you to take them for as long as you need to. What they don't say is that after the pain in that part of the body is gone, you don't need the meds anymore. Oxycodone doesn't help with surface pain, just deeper pain. So I thought, well my knee hurts from where they cut it open, let me keep taking the meds. Well, the first time I had to go back to the orthopedist to have the gauze changed, I screamed my head off and didn't talk the rest of the day. However while we were there the doctor told me I could take more than just one of the pills, so again at this point I was medicated, I thought great now maybe this pain will go away. Not! All it served to do was make me feel like I had to throw up, I couldn't eat, and just overall felt like shit. When the doctor did tell me that the meds don't handle the surface pain, I decided to take myself off of them. Less than a week after my surgery I was off the oxycodone and getting back to feeling like my normal self again.
At the beginning of this post I said it was going to be in honor of what happened yesterday, so what did happen yesterday? Well instead of closing the cut after the surgery, the doctor decided to keep it open so he could check on it and make sure it wasn't infected. Now every three to four days I have to go back to see him so he can rip the gauze out and replace it. The first and second time it had to be done I screamed. I have come to realize that your knees are very sensitive places. Luckily the last two times it was better and mostly uncomfortable and just a little painful. As time passes, the cut is healing itself and closing by itself, so each time it gets repacked it is more and more shallow. Yesterday he took it out and I look and even asked, "Was that it?" Then he decided to be mean and start prodding it to see how it was doing. Like I said, it was uncomfortable and now a little sore.
Very long story short, don't mess up your knees. It hurts like hell if you have to have something done to them.
Thank you for sticking with me through this insanely long post and of course if you have any question or anything, feel free to message me.
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