For the past week I haven’t been able to blog about anything and now that I’m starting to come out of my fog of trauma I’m wondering what I should blog about first. I have wondered mostly if I should blog about my current state of rehab. I had surgery a week ago on my right shoulder, which involved a procedure called manipulation under anesthesia. Layman’s terms as well as how my doctor put it. They would put me under long enough to move my frozen shoulder in all directions, ripping through the scarred adhesions that had formed on the capsule of my shoulder. It would sound like ripping through velcro and for a week I thought I would be hearing that sound with my own ears but no, I would be out, with a twilight drug and shot in the neck to completely block my right arm. The block worked as did the anesthetic but I was not crazy about the after effects of the anesthesia. No matter how much I insisted that I would get sick from it they just didn’t quite believe me. They gave me a shot but I knew that would not be enough. I went home and proceeded to spend many hours shaking uncontrollably and dry heaving. It’s somewhat of a hazy memory except I do recall my Mom and husband moving their feet quickly to the side when I chose to dry heave with nothing under me except air.
The block in my arm worked so well that when my arm fell out of the sling I was completely unaware of it. So much so that my husband would say, “Honey, your arm is out and it’s banging against the cabinet.” I think I was brushing my teeth. When I say my arm was blocked, I mean it was completely blocked which is not a bad thing considering I just had tendons torn through and whether they were supposed to be there or not, they were still torn through and I don’t think my nerve endings were going to make an acception, on sending pain signals out.
When you get adhesive capsulitis or frozen shoulder as it is also called, scar tissue forms and along with that, the capsule starts shrinking until you cannot lift your arm. Well you can to some degree, in my case about a 90 degree angle but the entire shoulder goes with it. It’s not rotating and trust me, it’s pretty useless like that and very painful.
So, the surgery was successful I think and believe it or not, the physical therapy begins the day of surgery even though you can’t move your own arm. Evidently they do it for you but I never made it since I was busy dry heaving air. I was to wear a sling until the block wore off so the first night in bed, I would lift my arm, moving it away so that I could prop a pillow under my elbow. The problem was that I couldn’t then find my own arm in the dark! I know you think I’m exaggerating buy I’m so not. I finally found it up by my ear and although I didn’t think I had put it that far up, I evidently had and in the dark, I had no memory. This happened more often than I would like to admit. Setting something down in the dark is never easy, you have no visual aid, which means no memory. Try sitting your flashlight down in the dark, during a blackout and then try finding it again, you’ll know what I mean. I know in this case it was attached to me but since I couldn’t feel it, I had no memory of it. Each time I reached in for it, through the sling it gave me the creepiest sensations. It didn’t help that it was Halloween and I kept thinking of it like one of those bloody stumps people are always using for Halloween props.
So now to the really horrible part, the physical therapy. I went for my first one the day after the surgery. It hadn’t even been 24 full hours and I might add, I was on my first pain pill accompanied by a full dose of phenergan, which is for nausea and also makes you sleepy. I took both meds around 6:30am and my appointment was for 9:30am. My Mom took me because I am a lightweight, in the department of alcohol or medications and I mean an amoeba sized lightweight. I walked in zombie like and was taken into a room to discuss how I’d like to pay for my rehab. On a good day I hate medical insurance, but on this day I couldn’t follow up with a hello, nice to meet you too.
I just kept staring at my Mom and finally the woman took pity on me and said she didn’t want me to sign anything today. Duh. Monday came and I was feeling pretty good and ready for my p.t. to start. I had diligently performed all my stretching exercises, just as prescribed so I new I’d get an A and be well on my way to recover. Just typing that makes me shutter. To say what they did to me was painful is such an understatement. I went home and took my meds. and thought it would subside but it didn’t and I did good to get myself ready the next day, a full 24 hours later.
I was taking the pain meds, trying to keep my arm moving, fighting nausea, shaking from all the meds and feeling hideous but I went. Maegan would be my personal Nazi on Tuesday and she even had one of her underlings come over and hold me down so she could use both her arms, the underlings hand and her own chin to manipulate my arm into doing something it so did not want to do. She told me to breathe and I attempted to but instead I squeaked, “I can’t!” She realized she went to far and I realized I was in big trouble. I went home and started the whole thing again but this time I was in tears and that doesn’t happen easily for me. I was expecting pain but I knew this wasn’t normal. The next day I was beside myself at the thought of going to another p.t. treatment so I called my Dr’s office and spoke to his nurse. I told her I didn’t think this was normal and could I have a shot of cortisone or something! She agreed and told me to stop all p.t. for the week, that they were doing entirely too much. I loved her! I loved her and anyone she ever knew. My doctor was gone until Monday but she was able to get me into another doctor at noon, the next day. I would have loved it right then but I was so high on the thought that I didn’t need to be tortured for the rest of the week, I wasn’t going to complain anymore. I sat at my desk and cried with relief. I also called and canceled my p.t. appointments. Maegan called within minutes of me doing so, to check on me. To late! I told her it was too much and my doctor said so! She said she’d see me on Monday.
The thing is and I’ve learned this over the years. Doctors don’t really pay attention to what the other doctors are doing and saying. Maegan hasn’t bothered to read my MRI report, which says I have a lot more going on in my shoulder than just tissue that needs to be stretched out again. My surgeon didn’t think it was necessary to give me a steroid shot, to reduce swelling even though I have painful bursitis and tendonitis, along with a tear in the rotator and an impingement under it, as well. The doctor that gave me the shot immediately said he always gave cortisone into the area to help with the rehab. You have to be informed and you have to keep yelling, “But wait, what about…..” Still, they don’t aways listen but from this point forward, they will and I am now in control. Maegan and her team of torturers are not going to just start twisting me into a pretzel, for my own good, as she puts it. I asked her how she knew when to stop pushing and she said I look at your face, to see the pain. Great but she said this while she was NOT looking at my face and instead, rubbernecking the entire room. The old lady getting her knee worked on didn’t look like she needed Maegan’s attention.
As of now, I’m off the pain meds. until Monday where I hope to switch to something that doesn’t have me feeling like I’m a heroin attack attempting to get clean. You’ve seen those movies, I’m not far from that. I guess its good to know I could never become a drug addict. The nausea is lifting but not gone, I’m hoping I send it away today. I have a headache that is making itself known and a rash on my face, from what I cannot say but I’m thinking I have a full weekend to rid myself of all these unwanted tremors, pains and side effects and I will start the fight over again Monday. I might be going to this fight with one arm but I’ve got a full mental jacket to accompany me and that should be enough.
No comments:
Post a Comment