heyyyyy-o, more hospital-o.
We last left off with a small infection, which was mildly terrifying, but now seems to be doing quite fine in the end.
Dr. Z thus postponed my next check-up from the following Monday (3 days after he saw me) to June 8 instead. Thus I had my second "official" post op appointment on June 8, though it was really my third since Dr. Z saw me for the infection... but whatever.
This is not Dr. Z. That is also not me.
After dealing with hospital red tape for about an hour - which involved standing for about an hour, something I don't recommend when your foot still needs 24/7 elevation - I got in to have my X-ray and was ushered into a clinic room. My boot, wraps, ortho socks and gauze were removed quite efficiently (and mildly painfully) by the ortho tech (seriously, people, these are BROKEN BONES you are handling) and Dr. Z peeped his head around the curtain rather furtively, saw it was me and came in and said hello.
A bit dark. Perhaps appropriate for my current mood.
He spent some quality time poking at the wound site with gauze and cleaning solution, and decided things were looking far better. So that's a relief. I still need to keep cleaning it daily with Betadine and covering it, but that's not so bad. He had the Chief of Surgery take a look at it as well, and they both agreed things were healing nicely.
Dr. Z then brought up the X-ray from the day of admission, whereupon the usual happened - someone stumbled by, went "whoa" and thus a small crowd of medical people stood around gazing at it, and in turn, me. There were murmurs that basically involved "it's impressive you managed to get out of using external fixation for this one" which continues to make me very happy.
Also not Dr. Z. Also not an X-ray of an ankle. Look, I do what I can, okay?
Clearly becoming more comfortable with us, Dr. Z went on to chat a bit about the day that I came in. "I could not believe you were not screaming, and how comfortable you seemed to be," he said. "You just laying on that bed making jokes and making sure I'm a good surgeon." He smirked at that one. I guess he DID hear me talking to the nurse after all. He also - something I didn't know before - told me the ankle was open on BOTH sides, not just the one side like I thought, and also meandered a bit in illustrating exactly why it was such a very bad ankle break. All fascinating; I think I could listen to this stuff for years and not get bored.
He had me rotate my ankle a bit and said that was looking pretty good, and the fact that I wasn't screaming upon rotation was a good sign. He took a look at the new X-ray, hemmed and hawed a bit and then called in the Chief of Surgery, who also hemmed and hawed and then they both decided that it would be a good idea for me to have a bone growth stimulator. To make a long story short, that's showing up tomorrow morning, complete with therapist to teach me how to use it. Basically, my fibula (the little bone on the outside of the leg) was shattered into quite a few pieces, and because some of them were so small they couldn't actually put them back together. So, the bone itself has to basically totally re-grow. From the sounds of things, we may be looking at bone grafts, floating chip removal, and of course, screw removal whenever that time comes.
Still not Dr. Z, but indicative of my life path
We also talked about pain, and probably for the first time ever I didn't get a lecture on pain meds. Maybe because the original X-ray was still so fresh in Dr. Z's mind, ha ha. Pain is still a real issue; it goes from being okay some days to being absolutely horrible others. Sometimes it aches, sometimes it throbs, sometimes it burns, sometimes it stabs, sometimes it squeezes, sometimes it feels like a million bug bites. It likes to move around. Whatever the kind of pain, it sucks. And it's kind of itchy, too.