Update
Wednesday's surgery went perfectly. The doctor said the tear was a little deeper than he'd expected, at about 90% thickness, but he got everything reattached. Four little holes, each with a cross of steri-strips. We took off the surgical dressing last night and it looks to be healing normally. Some nice bruising, though.
Intubation wasn't necessary; just general anesthesia delivered intravenously and then via mask. I didn't think my (relatively) mild asthma would cause any complications, but that wasn't entirely true. I woke up panicky and feeling like I couldn't breathe. I remember thinking that the oxygen mask was cutting off my air and kept pulling it off. There were patient people (being patient with the patient?) all around me, though, putting it back on and being reassuring. Apparently I was having bronchospasms. In case you don't know, a bronchospasm is a brief -- no more than a second or two -- closing and opening of the bronchial tubes. I get those sometimes if I breathe too fast, as with sudden exercise or anxiety, and they're the only asthmatic symptom I do get. They don't bother me that much. But in my dazed post-anesthesia state, I felt like I was suffocating.
I felt a lot better once I was properly awake, but the nurse was still worried that I wasn't breathing well enough ("you're not getting out of here until you are") and kept reminding me to do it more often, and deeply. I wasn't all that worried, but she showed me the readout from the pulse oximeter, which is what's measured by that little clothespin on your fingertip with the red light in it. When I wasn't paying conscious attention to my breathing, the oxygen sats dropped into the low 90%s and sometimes 80&s. They're supposed to be 95%+. That got my attention, and I kept working on it until my respiratory reflexes caught up.
My arm is strapped securely into a sling-immobilizer contraption for safety while it heals. It's made up of foam padding and straps with some synthetic twilly sort of fabric and velcro. It reminds me of my camera backpack (which is of course designed to keep lenses and other fragile equipment safe). I'm still not sure about the exact timeline, but I'll be wearing it 24/7, except for some shower and dressing breaks, for several weeks. The straps are annoying, but I'm nervous about not having it on. It's hard enough keeping the shoulder relaxed as it is, and dammit, I do NOT want to damage anything and go through this again.
The last few days have been pretty rough on both of us. The pain was actually worse on the second day after the nerve block started wearing off. Even with Norco (doesn't that sound like a petroleum company?) and constant cooling from the ice machine (which I got and started using a few days before the surgery), it was bad. And then there was the nasty incident when B was helping me back from the bathroom that morning. We had both just woken up, and my shoulder was warming up -- the ice in the machine had melted -- and I was a couple of hours overdue on the pain meds, which wasn't helping matters, but probably wasn't why my muscles suddenly started shaking and seizing up. B lowered me to the carpet and I couldn't get up again. Every time I tried to move, everything just locked up again.
I had B get me a pillow, and the cold pack from the freezer -- since I couldn't get back to the couch and the ice machine -- and I rested for a while. B says it was around 45 minutes. He was pretty close to calling the paramedics; I got pretty close to suggesting it myself. But he helped me to sit up and drink some water -- that turned out to have been a good idea -- and after that I was able to get up, and to the couch, and to my now-beloved ice machine.
We talked to the doctor's office as soon as we were able. The nurse thinks I went down because I'd gotten dehydrated. She also got the doctor to OK a fairly large dose of ibuprofen to help with inflammation and associated pain, and OH GOD IS IT EVER. Oh, and did I mention the all-over itchiness? D: By this time the cause was clearly the Norco, so she also got me switched to Percocet. Hopefully I can start reducing the meds soon. But not today.
So...B's making a daily run for bags of ice, since our freezer just can't keep up. We're checking the machine, and my shoulder, constantly to make sure everything stays cold enough, and setting a timer for meds, even at night (unfortunately). I have to keep the shoulder elevated, so I'm sleeping propped up on the couch, with B nearby on the futon. (Missy could have the whole bed to herself now, but instead she's sleeping in here next to B. Awww :) ) B's far enough away so the TV noise doesn't bother him. I need it for distraction when I'm not asleep myself. We are both finally starting to catch up on sleep, though.
B is the awesomest nurse EVER. Yes, I did tell him, and will continue to do so.
I've been away from the ice machine for at least an hour now and I need to get back there. Hope you all are OK.
Intubation wasn't necessary; just general anesthesia delivered intravenously and then via mask. I didn't think my (relatively) mild asthma would cause any complications, but that wasn't entirely true. I woke up panicky and feeling like I couldn't breathe. I remember thinking that the oxygen mask was cutting off my air and kept pulling it off. There were patient people (being patient with the patient?) all around me, though, putting it back on and being reassuring. Apparently I was having bronchospasms. In case you don't know, a bronchospasm is a brief -- no more than a second or two -- closing and opening of the bronchial tubes. I get those sometimes if I breathe too fast, as with sudden exercise or anxiety, and they're the only asthmatic symptom I do get. They don't bother me that much. But in my dazed post-anesthesia state, I felt like I was suffocating.
I felt a lot better once I was properly awake, but the nurse was still worried that I wasn't breathing well enough ("you're not getting out of here until you are") and kept reminding me to do it more often, and deeply. I wasn't all that worried, but she showed me the readout from the pulse oximeter, which is what's measured by that little clothespin on your fingertip with the red light in it. When I wasn't paying conscious attention to my breathing, the oxygen sats dropped into the low 90%s and sometimes 80&s. They're supposed to be 95%+. That got my attention, and I kept working on it until my respiratory reflexes caught up.
My arm is strapped securely into a sling-immobilizer contraption for safety while it heals. It's made up of foam padding and straps with some synthetic twilly sort of fabric and velcro. It reminds me of my camera backpack (which is of course designed to keep lenses and other fragile equipment safe). I'm still not sure about the exact timeline, but I'll be wearing it 24/7, except for some shower and dressing breaks, for several weeks. The straps are annoying, but I'm nervous about not having it on. It's hard enough keeping the shoulder relaxed as it is, and dammit, I do NOT want to damage anything and go through this again.
The last few days have been pretty rough on both of us. The pain was actually worse on the second day after the nerve block started wearing off. Even with Norco (doesn't that sound like a petroleum company?) and constant cooling from the ice machine (which I got and started using a few days before the surgery), it was bad. And then there was the nasty incident when B was helping me back from the bathroom that morning. We had both just woken up, and my shoulder was warming up -- the ice in the machine had melted -- and I was a couple of hours overdue on the pain meds, which wasn't helping matters, but probably wasn't why my muscles suddenly started shaking and seizing up. B lowered me to the carpet and I couldn't get up again. Every time I tried to move, everything just locked up again.
I had B get me a pillow, and the cold pack from the freezer -- since I couldn't get back to the couch and the ice machine -- and I rested for a while. B says it was around 45 minutes. He was pretty close to calling the paramedics; I got pretty close to suggesting it myself. But he helped me to sit up and drink some water -- that turned out to have been a good idea -- and after that I was able to get up, and to the couch, and to my now-beloved ice machine.
We talked to the doctor's office as soon as we were able. The nurse thinks I went down because I'd gotten dehydrated. She also got the doctor to OK a fairly large dose of ibuprofen to help with inflammation and associated pain, and OH GOD IS IT EVER. Oh, and did I mention the all-over itchiness? D: By this time the cause was clearly the Norco, so she also got me switched to Percocet. Hopefully I can start reducing the meds soon. But not today.
So...B's making a daily run for bags of ice, since our freezer just can't keep up. We're checking the machine, and my shoulder, constantly to make sure everything stays cold enough, and setting a timer for meds, even at night (unfortunately). I have to keep the shoulder elevated, so I'm sleeping propped up on the couch, with B nearby on the futon. (Missy could have the whole bed to herself now, but instead she's sleeping in here next to B. Awww :) ) B's far enough away so the TV noise doesn't bother him. I need it for distraction when I'm not asleep myself. We are both finally starting to catch up on sleep, though.
B is the awesomest nurse EVER. Yes, I did tell him, and will continue to do so.
I've been away from the ice machine for at least an hour now and I need to get back there. Hope you all are OK.