heading for surgery

My wrist aches, and I’m headed to surgery.

It’s been a long day.

It started with an appointment with a hand surgeon for a second opinion, and ended with a 9:45 dinner. We normally eat around 8:30, and on book club nights, like today, I often eat after the meeting at 9:15. So 9:45 is not perhaps as bad as it sounds.. But I have wanted to put something up on my blog all day, and this is the first chance I’ve had – at 11 PM.

The first hand-doc that I saw said that if the pain came back, it was surgery for me. When I went back the second time complaining of pain, she grudgingly consented to a second cortisone shot instead, only because I was about to go on vacation, saying that that was the last time! And the shot worked! Just like the first time.

But now I can tell that, though I am not in pain in the same way, my problem is not really gone either. My wrist aches. I think today it is especially bad because I asked my PT yesterday to evaluate the way I push my chair, to see if I use my right hand and left hand differently.

We went out in the long hallway of her medical arts building, and I rolled up and down the hall while she watched from the front, from the right, from the left and then from the back. She made some astute observations – I hold my right thumb up while I push and I put my right hand back further than my left as I start into each push. I should let my right thumb rest along the rim as I pull back for the next push, not try to squeeze with the lower part of the thumb joint. I guess I am getting more power this way, but it’s rough on my thumb, and also rough on that tendon. She had me wear a thumb splint to see if it took some pressure off, and it does – but it makes me much slower in pushing. I feel like a pokey old turtle.

Then she watched me transfer in and out of my car. This is my hardest transfer, because I have to use a transfer board. I lost track of how many times I went in and out, holding the board this way and that. She had some good suggestions here as well. All the same, by the end of it all, I felt tired. I can’t say my wrist felt bad then, but all my other muscles were saying, “enough!”

Today, I could feel the effect of all that exercise on my wrist – like I said – it aches. I know in my gut, that my deQuervain’s tendonitis is not going away. It isn’t as bad as it was, but it’s still there, waiting for a good excuse to scream at me again.

And so when the doctor today said that the advice of the other hand surgeon was sound to him, well, I knew. I’m headed for surgery. He said that the fact that the cortisone worked means it’s even more clear to him that surgery is the right choice, and his argument was that I could try other treatments, but in the end he believes I’ll be back. Why go through all that, when surgery is a safe and quick fix?

From my point of view, it’s not urgent. I’m coping. And I couldn’t have it tomorrow if I tried. I think I’ll go back to my original surgeon, for no other reason than I just like her. The man I saw today was good, I am sure of this. I know 3 people who have had surgery or other procedures by him. But I like something of the manner of the first surgeon I saw. She happens to be pregnant, and quite possibly is having a baby as I write this. Wednesday was her last day in the office, and she’s scheduled to be back mid April. I assume this is if everything goes well only. But I can wait.

I made a mid April pre-op appointment, hoping that mid May I can have the surgery done. I am still anxious about how recovery will go for me, but figure I can work out the details later. Both doctors have been reassuring, that I should not be incapacitated for more than a day, even if I feel some discomfort for a month. It’s a very simple procedure apparently. I’m sure it is for almost everyone else! I just wonder how this might be different because of how I use my hands and wrists all day long. Just to get out of bed means weight on my wrist, do they really understand what I mean? Or will this be like the couple on the cruise who didn’t really know what they were in for? Sure they got through it, perhaps none the worse for wear. So perhaps, I am just a worrier.

Jim says he’ll take off that day from work, and probably the next day too. Perhaps I can schedule surgery for a Thursday. That way the office will be open at least 24 hours after it is done, but I can make use of Jim being home on the weekend. I suspect I’ll want his help to get out of bed, possibly to dress too. I’ll plan to stay home for a week, so that the only transfers I have are bed, toilet and shower – not into and out of the car. This means though, that I have to consider his travel schedule too when I arrange the surgery.

That’s how the day started. Not long after I got home, a man came by, that the electrician hired to patch the stucco on my house, where the old electrical panel was removed. His work from 2 days ago failed inspection, so he was here to do it all over again. After looking at his new work, very gingerly I explained to him what I thought the inspector said was wrong, so that he would really do the work right this time. I could see that his second attempt was going to fare like the first with the way he was proceeding. The inspector wrote out very specific detailed instructions, which somehow didn’t translate in this man’s head, into a changed approach. I put my 2 cents in, and then let it go. The workman did change what he was doing based on my comments, but I don’t know if it was enough to pass inspection tomorrow. We’ll just have to see.

What rankles me most about this is that I have to pretend that the inspector is just being fussy (that’s what the electrician and this handyman workman are saying), and that what he is asking is unheard of! Personally, what the inspector said makes total sense to me, and if he’s right I’m avoiding a mold problem by doing as he says.

And it’s annoying me that this process is supposed to happen smoothly even if I’m not home, since it is all outside the house and I don’t have to be home to let someone in. But if I hadn’t been home yesterday when the inspector came, so that I could understand his reasoning, and if I hadn’t been home today when the workman came, to explain the failure, then I’m sure the whole process would take several more days till it got straightened out. As I said, I know it would have failed inspection the second time too.

And so, all afternoon, I was home while the handyman was chipping away, or power sawing away, at the stucco, hammering in new nails and god knows what. I am so eager for this project to be done. The cats and I miss our peace and quiet. I couldn’t think clearly, so found some tasks to do that involved fewer brain cells – laundry and sorting photos.

I had my book club tonight, which I love for several reasons. I love to read, so any opportunity to talk about books is good. But I also really enjoy the women in my group. Jim was working late, then wanted to go to the gym, so he was going to be late coming home anyway. He’s headed out of town tomorrow on an early flight, so he had some things to tie up at work, and he can’t get exercise tomorrow, so it was important he get to it today. We planned dinner for after we both got home, which ended up being a 9:45 dinner. In Buenos Aires that would be no big deal, but here it is considered rather late.

Eating late, dealing with workmen who I think are rather slow thinkers, being busy all day even with noise – none of this is new to me. What made the day long though, was that all through it, I was thinking through my surgery option, or wanting to think through it and finding it hard to do. I suppose I wanted to be alone. I wanted quiet. The introverted side of me was asking for attention.

Do I want to do this? Do I trust these surgeons? Are they right that it won’t come back after the surgery, it’s such a sure thing? What am I doing to cause this in the first place – do I really know? Should I try something less invasive first, like acupuncture, even though I doubt it’ll work?

And – this will be my first optional surgery related to overuse (what I have to assume is the cause, for lack of a better theory) of a body part directly related to my disability. This is worrying me, a lot. Is this the first of many potential problems related to disability and aging? I am feeling old.

The last surgery I had was when my tubes were tied in 1987, when Stephen was born. I could make the argument that that surgery was disability related, because I had it lined up even before I knew whether Stephen would live or die. I knew I could not tolerate pregnancy again, because that second full term pregnancy was pretty hard on my body. I wanted 2 kids, might have considered 3 or 4 before my pregnancy in 1986. But as my pregnancy advanced into the 3rd trimester, it was clear this was the last one for me. Some other day I will tell that story. But since kids themselves were optional, I can’t really call it disability related.

Not counting 1973 when I was shot, I’ve been in hospitals 4 times.
1 – cauterizing some bleeding in my bladder due to a bad infection, 1 night, around 1982.
2 – David’s birth, overnight 2 nights, 1984, smooth and easy
3 – Stephen’s birth and tubal ligation, overnight 1 night, 1987, even easier
4 – broke my knee in 1997, 2 nights because my leg swelled up so much.

Does anesthesia for an outpatient procedure count? Add a colonoscopy and inserting the supra pubic catheter.

I’m hoping that the wrist surgery is more like a colonoscopy, and less like cauterizing my bladder. Supposedly it is outpatient, and recovery is minimal. But I won’t really believe them, till it’s done.

In the meantime, I’ll have to garner up some trust for my doctor, and prepare myself for a rough time. Better to expect to need help, plan for it, and cancel later, than to be surprised. And for right now? Time for a glass of wine! I have just the right Riesling, light and sweet, a happy wine. Donna, relax, it’s going to be ok, just relax.